Venting Even in the best case scenario, I can’t imagine wanting to live.

[Renv1o_]

I've lost a lot of family members lately and failed to submit work for uni. Usually, I'm very good with deadlines, but I completely broke and had to apply for a year's leave. I don't know if it'll get accepted- University was all I had to really buy my time and keep focus, but even then, I'd struggle daily just to turn up. Leaving my house always felt so impossible and maintaining friendships was out of the question.
I'm 20 and can't function the way I'm supposed to. I remember being 18 and agonising (on here) about whether I'd even get accepted on this course or not. I've fucked up what few opportunities I've had time and time again-
My medication keeps getting upped and everything is just feeling more and more dull and bleak. I've lost the hope I used to have for things. I've lost my love for art and my sense of identity. I've never felt more unsure in my life before.

Even when I wanted so badly to die, I could at least throw myself into drawing and creating and studying what I could about art…But I don't feel anything for it anymore. My one crutch is gone and I know it sounds childish. I know how good I have it and yet all I do is mess things up for myself. I just want to disappear.

Just a couple years back, I at least had the ability to disappear into my head. I was such a daydreamer, even in an abusive household, even on the brink of suicide. I can't find comfort in my own mind anymore. It's all blank. I feel hollow and sick of myself. There's no motivation, no intense feelings or drive to just enjoy art selfishly anymore.
I feel like I'm nothing. Yes, I function better than I used to. I don't obsess and pick things apart to the point they hurt me quite as much anymore, but that's because I am so dull and flat beyond belief. My doctor is adamant I stay medicated, but if these are the two options of living I have, I'd much rather ctb.

I don't know if any of this makes sense or if anyone will even read all my ramblings. I don't even know why I vent on here anymore- I know I'm childish and should get a grip. I'm sorry

 

[JustHere1]

I read your post and I hear you. We hear you. From trauma, I am no longer able to draw, read, or watch most anything out of fear from severe abuse. I am trapped inside of me, sort of, and have been for a long time. I'm desperately unhappy and I understand the hollowness. Even my mind is busy without me and it is exhausting sometimes, even to rest, and my body pain at least distracts me from thinking about how I don't feel comfortable enough to think.

I used to draw a black feathery Amphithere with a white mask, an X design over it. He gave me comfort and strength when I needed it. I struggle to draw, but he always comes to mind when I want to.

I donated all of my possessions recently and have next to nothing left in my house, not even a pen, and today I mourned the lack of resources to put a pen on paper, even though whenever I mourned before, I hardly touched it. Sometimes I touch the shower walls and draw feathers or a mask or a serpentine shape, but I cover it with water because I feel I need to hide and keep everything private. I feel as if I've never really had privacy and protection. I am so tired. I hear you.

 

[Renv1o_]

I read your post and I hear you. We hear you. From trauma, I am no longer able to draw, read, or watch most anything out of fear from severe abuse. I am trapped inside of me, sort of, and have been for a long time. I'm desperately unhappy and I understand the hollowness. Even my mind is busy without me and it is exhausting sometimes, even to rest, and my body pain at least distracts me from thinking about how I don't feel comfortable enough to think.

I used to draw a black feathery Amphithere with a white mask, an X design over it. He gave me comfort and strength when I needed it. I struggle to draw, but he always comes to mind when I want to.

I donated all of my possessions recently and have next to nothing left in my house, not even a pen, and today I mourned the lack of resources to put a pen on paper, even though whenever I mourned before, I hardly touched it. Sometimes I touch the shower walls and draw feathers or a mask or a serpentine shape, but I cover it with water because I feel I need to hide and keep everything private. I feel as if I've never really had privacy and protection. I am so tired. I hear you.

Everything can be so awful and easy to lose You deserve to be seen

 

[Hollowman]

Of course your Dr's always going to be adamant about keeping you drugged. They can't make a living otherwise. Coercion's the name of their game. Check out Beyondmeds.com/Madinamerica