im not dead surprisingly. my birthdays next month and i think i just blanked out these last few months. i dont know what happened. i ranted in my notes app so i figured no harm posting it here. i have no one to acknowledge this irl + i dont need them thinking im ready to kms just yet. its kinda helpful i think. just venting here
im tired of being alone and i cant fucking stand myself or who i am or what life is. its been a blur these last few months, maybe a year at this point. in the "i wasn't supposed to be alive past 12 , this isnt real" sorta way. im fucking tired and i want to kill myself and i keep going back to find comfort in the fact i told myself at 12 I'd give myself another 12 years to feel better before i was able to call it quits, another lifetime to figure it out. I have been waiting for these last few years for it to get better or to have something to hold out hope for. I am tired of being told it'll get better motherfucker it doesnt get better it really fucking doesnt!!!!!!! I have nothing to hold out hope for, much as i want to. Its such a cop out answer "oh itll get better" like i havent been actively waiting a fair portion of my entire life for it to get better. It was still bad before I begun the waiting for better. I want friends but i have no idea how to hold proper and healthy relationships and time and time again ive proven to myself its better for everyone around me if i do my best to remain alone and quiet. Im not meant to be close to people, it fucks us both over beyond unimaginable disbelief every single fucking time and its a problem i can't fix. Im tired of spending my days bed rotting or begging to feel cared or seen or heard but rejecting any attempt from any who dare even engage in my fantasy. I havent seen my floor in genuine months and i have no desire at this point to make my room habitable in any capacity. I rot in my bed, i dont need the space. Care and comfort feel foreign. It does not matter how much I want it, or how much i fantasaize about being cared in the way i wanna be cared for. I cannot have it and i wont let myself truly have it. Any time I've indulged in allowing someone to care for me its quickly followed by shame and guilt and mass amounts of embarrassment. Its uncomfortable and its weird and it feels like its out of pity every damn time. I have just been trying to get to tomorrow for so fucking long im so fucking tired of just surviving. I feel like a small child constantly and I can't do this anymore. I mean genuinely I have felt like my body is not my own but rather someones else's and somewhere inside of here, there is me and its a child who hasnt been given any clue in to whats happening around them. I cant articulate my feelings half the time without them sounding like a child throwing a tantrum. I cannot tell you how many times ive cried in my own bed to the tune of "i want my mom" or "i want to go home". I dont want my mom and I am home. But i have nothing else to say in those moments but beg for some idealized version of what should bring me comfort. I want to held and I want to be loved in my entirety and I realize that just simply isnt possible given the nature of who I am. Im not meant to be loved and known, I accept that reluctantly. I have been told by everyone I've ever considered close to me at some point that I'm too much or they dont know how to help me. Paraphrasing roughly but that's always the sentiment. I know this means i have to learn how too help myself, but I can't. I cannot without a support system. I have never had a proper one but I do my best to be in many as I can. I have been chocked up in school for a while now. Im so tired of just living. This shit doesnt feel worth it. Its all going to rapid shit and I cannot do anything for anyone. My anger is displaced and unaffective. All that is left once it dissipates is exhaustion. Im exhausted from my head to my fucking toes I Am Exhausted and no one seems to get that. I dont know how im meant to function in day to day life when im expected to live on my own and go to work and be a functional person in day to day life. I really don't think this was a time i was meant to live in. The world was not built for me and I have no desire to carve my place into it. I do not fit and that shouldn't be anyone else's problem. Im going to do horrible in college. Mentally, physically, grade wise, whichever it is. Its going to be bad and im going to get worse and thats one of the few things i dont mind looking for comfort in. I find comfort in getting worse but then it cycles into the forever unreciprocated yearning i hold to be cared about by someone else. But honestly whatever at this point
im tired of being alone and i cant fucking stand myself or who i am or what life is. its been a blur these last few months, maybe a year at this point. in the "i wasn't supposed to be alive past 12 , this isnt real" sorta way. im fucking tired and i want to kill myself and i keep going back to find comfort in the fact i told myself at 12 I'd give myself another 12 years to feel better before i was able to call it quits, another lifetime to figure it out. I have been waiting for these last few years for it to get better or to have something to hold out hope for. I am tired of being told it'll get better motherfucker it doesnt get better it really fucking doesnt!!!!!!! I have nothing to hold out hope for, much as i want to. Its such a cop out answer "oh itll get better" like i havent been actively waiting a fair portion of my entire life for it to get better. It was still bad before I begun the waiting for better. I want friends but i have no idea how to hold proper and healthy relationships and time and time again ive proven to myself its better for everyone around me if i do my best to remain alone and quiet. Im not meant to be close to people, it fucks us both over beyond unimaginable disbelief every single fucking time and its a problem i can't fix. Im tired of spending my days bed rotting or begging to feel cared or seen or heard but rejecting any attempt from any who dare even engage in my fantasy. I havent seen my floor in genuine months and i have no desire at this point to make my room habitable in any capacity. I rot in my bed, i dont need the space. Care and comfort feel foreign. It does not matter how much I want it, or how much i fantasaize about being cared in the way i wanna be cared for. I cannot have it and i wont let myself truly have it. Any time I've indulged in allowing someone to care for me its quickly followed by shame and guilt and mass amounts of embarrassment. Its uncomfortable and its weird and it feels like its out of pity every damn time. I have just been trying to get to tomorrow for so fucking long im so fucking tired of just surviving. I feel like a small child constantly and I can't do this anymore. I mean genuinely I have felt like my body is not my own but rather someones else's and somewhere inside of here, there is me and its a child who hasnt been given any clue in to whats happening around them. I cant articulate my feelings half the time without them sounding like a child throwing a tantrum. I cannot tell you how many times ive cried in my own bed to the tune of "i want my mom" or "i want to go home". I dont want my mom and I am home. But i have nothing else to say in those moments but beg for some idealized version of what should bring me comfort. I want to held and I want to be loved in my entirety and I realize that just simply isnt possible given the nature of who I am. Im not meant to be loved and known, I accept that reluctantly. I have been told by everyone I've ever considered close to me at some point that I'm too much or they dont know how to help me. Paraphrasing roughly but that's always the sentiment. I know this means i have to learn how too help myself, but I can't. I cannot without a support system. I have never had a proper one but I do my best to be in many as I can. I have been chocked up in school for a while now. Im so tired of just living. This shit doesnt feel worth it. Its all going to rapid shit and I cannot do anything for anyone. My anger is displaced and unaffective. All that is left once it dissipates is exhaustion. Im exhausted from my head to my fucking toes I Am Exhausted and no one seems to get that. I dont know how im meant to function in day to day life when im expected to live on my own and go to work and be a functional person in day to day life. I really don't think this was a time i was meant to live in. The world was not built for me and I have no desire to carve my place into it. I do not fit and that shouldn't be anyone else's problem. Im going to do horrible in college. Mentally, physically, grade wise, whichever it is. Its going to be bad and im going to get worse and thats one of the few things i dont mind looking for comfort in. I find comfort in getting worse but then it cycles into the forever unreciprocated yearning i hold to be cared about by someone else. But honestly whatever at this point
