I’m.

“How are you” It’s too bad I can’t just tell the truth. “Didn’t kill myself yet, so that’s something.” But you can’t burden people with that.  You can’t say the truth.  So you rage about the crap you can control and you try to hold all the cards together.  You try to be the light…

Bi.

Well this morning I got to wake up to “You dumped the kitchen on me like this and I’m not doing it, you need to get up and make biscuits and gravy”. The follow up (hours later, after letting him sleep like the little bitch teenager he is) “I didn’t do anything wrong, you were…

Bombarded.

Suicide.  I’m two miles out.  I look down.  If I jump here, I’m stuck in that stuff.  I would probably suffocate and die before anyone got here to help me.  I’m not sure they could help me.  It’s too mucky. And why? I wasn’t lonely.  I was alone, gleefully, for the first time in months….

Exist.

I hate that people are protesting so much.  Every chance they get they protest.  I hate the way the world is. I don’t understand how this will help. I want to bow out. Everyone should have equal rights.  I should have a right to not get called names because of my values.  Why do I…

Shady.

So I found some evidence that he was looking for a lawyer the other day. He’s done a lot to really alienate me and belittle me over the last few weeks.  Lots of gaslighting and all around hurtful behavior into the typical manipulation, lies and awful, degradation.  The humiliation is the worst.  Every joke ends…

Convoluted.

You know abusers often accuse their victims of abuse. When he accuses me of abuse I can’t decide whether to laugh or cry.  What if a third party would see me as the abuser?  If an impartial view of our situation was possible, who would be right?  If you could see our hearts, is mine…

Society

Hard-ish work. Funny-ish me. Exhausted. Cranky. Lonely. Ignorable, invisible, tired of being treated like crap. I’m willing to change – I just don’t know how. I wish I had written less, but I keep holding out hope that sometime someone is going to realize that I exist. Probably not.

Voiceless.

When you don’t have a voice, but no one notices or tries to help. You kinda wish they would all just go to hell already – or you could at least die. But you don’t die, because life goes on. So you put on your clown face, and no one notices that you are faking it, cause you are that damned good. Lucky me.

Meet2

I met him. I’m not even sure when.  I guess I could have met him briefly when I was 15, but recently I met him when I was 18.  It was the spring of my senior year.  In running start, he was in my logic class at college.  I figured I was graduating soon and…

Nope.

I want to die. I want to die every day. I try my best to not want to die, but I do want to die. I hate my fucking life. I did not talk to a single adult today who gave a flying fuck about me. People helped, and I am super grateful, but no one gave a fuck. Not one fuck was given. No one said anything nice, and one person said lots of hateful shit that they will never apologize for and I’m tired. I’ll try to be less suicidal tomorrow and I’m really sorry for being so fucked up tonight. I need to let a little out though. I know it’s not healthy to feed it, but I need to pretend that out there, in the anonymity of the Internet, in the vast expanse of shit no one gives a shit about, that someone, for one second can give a flying fuck about me. The last thing the Internet needs is a cry for help. I’m sorry for being so fucked up tonight. But if I die, did I ever exist? No. I don’t think so. I’m so sorry.

Tony.

I am so tired of the suicide thoughts. Why do I go to such a dark place that isn’t comforting, to be comforted?

Alternate Title: Someone Save Me.

Church.

institutional indoctrination is a good thing. But I’m a bit of an extremist, so I suck there. And everywhere. I just want to be happy. Why can’t I just be happy?