You're only 22 they say. You can't be tired of life.
You have got your whole life ahead of you.
But I also have my whole life behind me.
22 years that ended in this. A sad piece of shit that can't get their shit together for even one day. Finds media and immediatly consumes it. No measurement needed, lets just gulp it all down. Why would we sleep anyways? Sleep is for the weak.
But sleep used to be our sanctuary. "It's like being dead without the commitment", thats what I said.
The real question is: Do I really want to die.
End my existence and all chance for a possible good ending. Not that I think that I will have one. I dont get lucky. I already had enough luck being born into this family at this time, do we really think I deserve any more? Honestly I dont think I deserve anything.
Is this the mental disorder talking? I dont know.
Is there a seperation between me and the mental disorder? My formative growing up years were dominated by selfhatred. I don't know anything else, my childhood drowned out by days of starvation, selfharm and painful memories. My personality is my depression, and my depression is my personality.
Pessimistic Optimist or optimistic Pesssimist, is there really a Difference? In the end we all go in the ground and are forgotten after atleast 100 years. (Outliers proving the thesis here)
So why would I attempt to try. I have fought for 4 years now. Since I left school.
Im 22 now.
Used to think I wouldnt make it past 20. Or even past 19. I honestly didnt even believe I would make it to the next day, but I never really did it, did I? Apart from the couple of times when I failed, that no almost no one knows about.
I wish I had tried harder. At everything.
I wish I had tried harder. At everything.
Not only the killing myself part, but also the life part. The part where you make friendships and keep them up. I dont talk to people from my school because I closed myself completely off the last two years I was there. I was so deep in my selfhatred that I am still convinced the teachers mustve faked my grades. How could I, who was basically asleep the entire year, manage a passable grade?
Now I am scared of making new friends. After a couple of weeks they always leave. When they notice my jokes are getting repetetitve, or when they catch me in a bad mood.
I am always angry and lash out. I am like a wounded animal, barely able to control myself, in complete survivor mode. Constantly on edge, praying to survive another day for then salvation might come.
But it never does.
Life keeps moving, I keep surviving.
And most importantly, hating myself.
