Saturday, September 16, 2017

Why Can't I Do Things Right?

I hate my luck

It constantly fucks me over and makes me look like an incompetent child.

I try so hard to do everything right.

My anxiety deems it necessary that I double

Triple check everything over in order to even have the possibility to get things right.

Just once

Just this time

This time it'll all go alright...

This time it'll all work out ok...

Ha.

It's all bullshit anyway.

I don't know why I think it will work

I don't know why I think I should try

I try so hard

I work to be on time

I take the initiative

I volunteer to help

And something always screws me over

Why does something always have to go wrong?

I double and triple check everything!

And yet...

Maybe, maybe next time.

Maybe next time it'll be alright.

Probably Not.





Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Thoughts #1

*makes a simple mistake that anyone could have made*

I am the worst person in the world. I deserve to die. I'm worthless and will never be good at anything.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

Nights Like Tonight

Nights like tonight get to me

I am alone

The world is a dark void

This house is silent

My mind, a turbulent sea ready to swallow me whole

Unfinished thoughts and things needing to be forgotten cause a cacophony in my head

And beat against my chest

Squeezing my heart

Destroying my lungs

The world is so fucked up

Nazis. Literally fucking Nazis roam the streets

And I want to punch every goddamn one

What the fuck is happening.

What in the actual fuck is happening.

We are at war and I want to jump to aid those in need

But I feel as though I will fail

And never make a difference.

I guess what people don't realize is how little self preservation I posses.

Someone comes after me?

Cool beans, I deserve all things bad and negative why should I fight it.

Come after literally anyone else?

I will throw myself into your path like I am a fucking Captain America

But let's be real people, I'm really just pre-serum Steve Rogers.

I don't know where I'm going with this?

I guess my brain hurts

My stomach is sick

I see this hatred festering like a pulsating wound

Hot with infection and seeping with puss and disease

People want to heal it, but other just keep scratching at it

(get that image out of your brain, bleck)

It's fucked man.

So fucked.

And my brain can't handle it.

And my body hates it.

And my soul weeps over the lives lost

The lives that will be lost.

What the fuck you guys.

What the fuck.








Sunday, July 30, 2017

My Thoughts Continue to Taunt Me

I can not cry at work.

I can not cry at work.

I can not cry at work.

No matter how far my mental capacity has plummeted in the past, moving back into my parent's house was a horrendous decision and has caused so much mental stress.

I can not remember the last time I was this bad.

Before I returned, I convinced myself that the negative memories were all just in my head.

That I was just over exaggerating the situations and the way they went down. 

Being back in their environment has shown me I was not making shit up.

I was not blowing things out of proportion. 

My self-esteem is at an all time love.

I want to eat everything and nothing.

My default answer to everything negative is:

"I should just die."

I want to cut.

I want to drink and smoke and dissipate into the universe. 

Words keep running over and over in my head.

I am not okay and I want to die.

I am not okay and I want to die.

I am not okay and I want to die.

I am not okay and I want to die.

I am not okay and I want to die.


I refuse to let go.

I refuse to give in.

I refuse to allow the poison to soak through my veins and keep me drowning. 

I am realizing I can not heal in the environment that made me sick.

But I know I will get out.

I will get better.

I will not allow my demons to win.

Saturday, July 29, 2017

The Worst of Days (warning for suicidal thoughts)

I really feel like killing myself today. 

My chest is too tight, my heart is being crushed and I can't quite breathe right. 

My hands are shaking, my body's aches and I want nothing more than to cut the things from my soul that rip and shred and poison me. 

I hate this.

I hate myself. 

I hate the body I inhabit and the space I take up. 

I want to disappear or sleep for an eternity. 

I wish to be nothing.


I want to kill myself today.

Friday, June 23, 2017

It Must Be Me

It's been a while since I've written.

I graduated.

I got a job in my field (kinda).

And I moved home.
But it isn't home.

Where people love you unconditionally.

Where they do things for you because they love you.

Where they accept you for you and all your weird quirks.

Where they treat you like a member, not an outcast.

Where you don't have to hide.
This place is an asylum.

Where they love you if you fit their standards.

Where they do things for you, then lord it over you like you owe them for their gifts.

Where they make fun of everything, you like or enjoy.

Where they bully you, blame you for it and then laugh it off because "it was just a joke."

Where you have to hide part of yourself for fear of rejection.

I am suffocating.

I'm drowning.
I want to die.
I have gone from being (and I quote), "the happiest I've ever seen you, to back when you were in high school, and you told me you wanted to kill yourself."

Heh.

It's probably my own fault anyway.

I'm the one who doesn't find their jokes funny.

I'm the one who reacts badly

I'm the one who doesn't fit.

I'm the one who always cries.

It must be me.

Right?