tw//// suicidal thoughts
Hi. I was here maybe a week ago, talking about my mental health issues and how they’ve made disconnect with reality.
I don’t know how much longer I can handle it though. The reason I’ve always wanted to live a full life, no matter what happens, is because I always loved life and the feelings that come with it. The issue is, I almost never get those feelings anymore. Even when I go outside or hang out for a bit, all I want to do is retreat back into my room, where nothing bad or harmful to my thoughts can get me. But even doing things by myself doesn’t satisfy me anymore. I hate the world around me. I hate everyone around me. I hate listening to people talk. They say alot of words, but don’t say anything with them.
Despite how painful it is, I don’t want help either. I don’t want people to tell me to take medication. I’ve tried several and they haven’t helped even a little bit. The thought of doing breathing exercises makes me think back to a therapist who had such an aggravating voice that it still hurts me to this day. I can’t “try new things” when my OCD is so horrible that looking at people feels like it physically hurts me. I don’t want to be told to “seek professional help” when it’s so expensive, so time-consuming, and I doubt it’ll even be worth it. What is someone with a degree in psychology going to tell me that someone else can’t? And why does it have to be so hard? We have quick emergency help for people who breaks their bones, so why not for someone whose brain has broken and has been suffering in silence for months!? Where’s my emergency surgery!? Why can’t I just be a normal happy person instead of some asshole who sits in their room feeling sorry for themself because they hate how different they are from everyone else?
For my whole life, I’ve blindly listened to what other people told me to do, and that’s led me down a path of failure after failure after failure. I hate these people, but I still hear their voices in my head, judging my every move and controlling my every motivation. If I sound wordy in this, it’s because I’ve been taught by manipulative people online that you need to sound as smart as possible, at all times, and failing that means you’re a moron who might as well not be speaking English at all. Even if I’m surrounded by kind people in real life who only want the best for me, if I have to listen to them talk about the weather or a squirrel they saw down the street one more time, I’m gonna bang my head into the wall until I stop thinking.
I’m a failure, a heartless monster, an apathetic sociopath, an idiot, a creatively driven person with no creativity, and every other horrible, awful thing you can call someone. I hate myself for all of it, and yet I can’t accept change. I’m tired of being told to change. I hate all of it. I hate everything.
I don’t want to live anymore, but I’m still hoping that things will somehow get better eventually. I still have dreams, even if they’re based on what I wanted in the past. Do I have the motivation or knowledge to actually make them come true? Probably not. I thought I wanted to be an animation director or a storyboard artist or something, but there’s probably never been a worse time to be one. Networks pay their animation team 2/3rds of what live-action teams get, and they don’t treat their shows with any respect. Shows get cancelled and the team doesn’t find out until it’s announced over the internet or something. Considering how time-consuming animation is and how much of their hearts people pour into it, I consider that incredibly disrespectful.
Animating used to be a dream job for me, but now it seems like a waste of time. I hate that the one thing that still gives me any hope in life is shunned by studios in the US. I hate that the shots are called by bosses who don’t give a crap about the people who carry their network. And I hate that the world I live in doesn’t seem to care.
I went off-course there, but it ties in to how I feel like the world doesn’t care about me. The nice people in my life will tell me I’m smart or insightful or whatever, but in the end it means nothing because the world wouldn’t be different if I didn’t exist. I’m unsatisfied and ungrateful for what I have, but no matter how much I try, nothing changes. I’m done trying to change. I’ve just accepted that the world is cruel and uncaring and humanity was an accident. (I don’t believe in God. Please don’t try to convince me he exists.)
