Wrote this to myself really, but thought i'd share...

Shared experiences of life, and the path that has led you to where you are.

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TomTomTom
Posts: 1
Joined: Sat Nov 24, 2012 4:51 pm
Location: manchester, england

Wrote this to myself really, but thought i'd share...

Postby TomTomTom » Sat Nov 24, 2012 5:05 pm

Write something.


So i've just written the words write something above this, but I have no ideas or interesting

stories to tell, you will read nothing of note here, many ramblings that are unlikely to be related

from one paragraph to the next. Also, i say you, like i expect somebody to ever read this, i should

probably just say there will be nothing interesting to anybody within this text, which i now think

will just be called text, or perhaps notepad. Anyway, what i'm saying is, really, i am only

speaking to myself here, but rather than my usual spoken communication with myself i have decided

that putting it in words may help to diagnose whatever mental condition makes me think i'm allowed

to do this on a regular basis, i mean, i know people talk to themselves a lot, but i do believe my

own self communicative tendancies to be quite excessive and worrying. This was supposed to be an

introduction into what i was planning on writing about (which was nothing). But i realise there is

no need for intoductions, i know myself exceedingly well, so this was quite the pointless

paragraph, but who cares, not like anyone but us(me) will read it, huh?


first order of business; put some music on, i'm sitting in silence with all the lights on, and the

television on, and since i'm now typing to myself(you) instead of speaking, the silence is making

me incredibly uncomfortable, which is strange really because i am still technically speaking to

myself so this shouldn't really affect me much, but yeah, definitely does, putting some music on.

And now i've done so i sit with an alarmed look on my face, the noise is excessive, almost stopping

me thinking, but not quite. A day to remember, my favorite band, quite angry, loud and lots of

screaming, but they have their soft spots, a couple of nice soft songs here and there. I onlt

recently developed interest in the mostly angry, often loud and shouty musical genre that is rock,

and as days go by my cravings for the screaming and the noise and banging just grow and grow. there

was a time when the quiet, soothing tones of the likes of taylor swift, and the script, and others

of the like would keep me content, but no longer, my inner workings don't accept such soft, sweet

musics anymore, i know that deep down i still love it, but something inside pulls away the joy i

once felt in such things. i'm still a sop though, still watch far too many rom-coms on my own in

the seclusion of my own company, still have a cheeky cry every now and then, but again, my mind

wanders into darker places and i fear the person i was will completely fade from existance, or

maybe the person i try to be, who really may not be who i truly am, maybe i talk to myself because

the person i am is all just an act, and i speak to the person inside because he's real, he's likes

to be angry and listen to loud music, and shout, perhaps he hates himself too, maybe that's why he

lets me stay. Still i wonder why his presence grows though, maybe things are getting too much for

him, watching me make a mess of what could have been his successful life of being an arsehole, or

maybe he's changed and wants to come out to show his goodness, and his confidence, and that life

can still be successful, but who knows, if i don't i'm pretty sure nobody else can, he is me after

all. Doing things this way just makes me feel insane, when i'm verbally communicating with myself

never really makes me feel crazy, perhaps the act of acknowledging the strange things you do makes

you realise them much more.

i'll tell you what i want from life now. i just want an average life, a wife, a couple kids,

doesn't matter what gender or really how many their are, i want to live in a quiet neighbourhood

like i grew up in, maybe a little nicer, and more friendly. i'm not even overly concerned with who

my wife is, she can be brown haired and greed eyed of blonde haired and brown eyed, it's of no

importance, the only thing of importance is her quality of character, and that doesn't mean her

intelligence of her accent or her sense of humor or anything like that, i only seek a woman with a

kind, loving heart. but maybe that's a big ask in these times, especially when most of those women

will be looking for men of the same calibour of higher, what do i have to offer them? awkwardness?

fear? take lucy for example, i'm petrified of being near her, or trying to touch her or hold her,

when we met i had no such problems, nothing stopped me being confident, joyful, fun and active in

conversation, but whenever i get closer to someone i literally petrify, and petrification, i find

to be near impossible to break out of. but you already know this, you were there, we both were. So,

how does this get solved, what do i do, it's not something i can stop, do i have to go seem

somebody? i hate doctors. well, no, i hate the act of going to the doctors, not out of disdain for

doctors of of anyone in the medical proffession of even anyone who may just happen to be in there

at the time. i merely hate being there, i hate being in such a position, i mean i'm there because

there is something wrong with me, and i know they say the first step to solving your problem is

admitting you have one, but f*** that, that's when you lets all your barriers down, you leave

yourself completely open because you can't solve your own problems, you become completely helpless.

because that's only the first step, admitting to the problem is followed by all the other steps

that make you better. but to get better you have to first give in to it all, and in doing that,

you'd get so much worse. i can't get worse, i don't know how i've lasted this long, i can't get

worse, it will kill me, i can't take it, i'm so afraid of everything. i'm so afraid of admitting my

failure, i'm so afraid of admitting my insequrities and my short-comings or which there are so

many. i'm afraid, i'm drowning in sadness, i'm drowning in hate for myself and what i've become,

there's no hope left in me, and whenever i find any if snuff it out myself so fast, and crush it

into nothing. a never-ending cycle of self destruction, which can't never end well. i need

something, i need someone, but there is nothing and there is no-one, who could want me now? what's

left to want? i've got nothing to offer, there is no quality i possess now that would attract

anyone or anything to my empty existance. so i have no hope for salvation, i can't escape the hole

i've crawled into over the years, and so what does that leave? we already know that answer, and we

debate it every single day, it's the only answer. but the deepest hope inside me wants those kids

and that woman to love, that hope is my life, my willpower, but it is only enough the keep me

crawling, not to start me into a walk, and then a run towards dreams of love and happiness, just

enough hope to torture a man into psychosis, madness. what happens when the crawling ends? or when

the hope dies entirely? either way, i'm dead, so we have ourselves a problem of life and death. you

win and you die. or you simply die. The latter is evidently my fate, so why not get the dying over

with? i don't know what stops me, i know it's not fear or regret, those are two of the things

willing me to go. hope is the only ally of life. i've met girls, a few, i've had hope kindled time

and time again, not enough to come back to life, just enough to keep crawling toward them, but what

goes does crawling do you when the object of your affections is on foot, and running forward

fervently, the only time i spend in their presence is in the passing, when they ajourn their

running to help up a boy, crawling in the sand. but i don't have the strength to run with them, and

they cannot carry me, so there is nothing for them to do but move along, while i return to my home,

down here in the mud. i need help...

i don't know how i became this way, so much time has passed, i'm 19 now, i don't remember being naturally happy anymore, the only happiness i know is self generated. lots of things have happened in the past; death, parents divorce, more death, bad relationship recently, i've ruined my prospects for the furure, i thinks it's a bit late to look for help, but if i don't i'm afraid this will unfortunately have to be the end.[/b]

Lucid
Posts: 8
Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2012 5:26 pm
Location: London, England

Postby Lucid » Sun Nov 25, 2012 7:11 am

Hi,

It takes courage to come on a forum and discuss your problems.
Feeling you're at rock bottom and drowning in despair and self-hatred.
I've been there too and it's a horrible, lonely place.

You're not alone. All of us here have experienced hard times and battled depression. We're here to offer support and share our experiences.

Don't give up. Life is a journey of discovery and has many surprises.
There is always hope and a deeper meaning behind it all. It may sound
cliched, but time is a healer; have courage and keep moving forward.
Don't give up on yourself because you're always much stronger than you think. These are just my thoughts and experiences.
I'm here if you want someone to talk to.


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