420 blaze it

 my friend told me that i have it good. 

Got a job, a loving wonderful partner, new flat and a degree. 

So why am I still sad? 

I don't think he meant it in the way I'm interpreting it. I'm probably just drawing the devil at the wall, or however that saying goes. But for depression it doesn't matter how good you have it. 

I understand that I should happy, and that makes being upset even more frustrating. Not only am I sad, but now I also feel guilty for feeling sad. Wonderful combination of emotions really. 

I am finally out of survivor mode and able to reflect on my life. Maybe try some therapy. Its not only about surviving, now we are trying the living thing. 

and I dont want to do that because I could do it wrong. I don't want to reflect on my life. I don't want to work through trauma, because that will be difficult. I don't want to be an adult and responsible. 

i am exististing and there is nothing i can do to stop that (atleast not approved methods) so i might need to make the best out of it. Atleast i got good friends? 

also pretty sure im addicted to the 420, but its all a work in progress

I want a good grade for fighting for my life

 I sit here. 

Its just past midnight. I wouldve been out for longer, but my friend needs to work tomorrow. I've consumed. It was just weed but it has reached levels that i woudlnt have thought off in my wildest dreams. This has become the new normal. Get home from work and smoke a little bit to escape for the three hours i have at home before i need to go to sleep to wake up to work. 

Is this an addiction? I cannot say. I know that I had a very similar problem around my twenties with alcohol. But I have 100% overcome this. 

So i dont know if this is just a step in me becoming. 

or, you know, me becoming an addict. 

but its fine. 

because while it cloacks me in that soft mist that fills out all my imperfections. Suddenly I appear tolerable. And that is apparently the best feeling I can dream off. 

I know I am suffering. 

But I do not know wether it is because I am depressed or me being scared to death of me faking all of this. Am I doing this to be special or is it me? Is it my nature or just good acting? 

I know a happy normal person wouldn't ask themselves these questions, therefore I qualify and have nothing to worry about. I am not "faking". 

But maybe that is just a clever thought out story I tell myself to live in peace because the truth is worse? What if I am worse? Maybe I am a genius, that has thought of all possible scenarios and has prepared exactly for this? Will I ever really know. 

I dont think there is an answer but there is a peace in accepting that youre okay. 

You are not taking up space that you do not deserve. You are sick and it is fine. You are not just pretending for attention. It is fine. Everything will be fine. 

My friends love me. More than I could ever love myself. And because of that love I need to protect them by not deserting them. I will be a good human because they deserve to be friends with reliable good humans. So thats what I am going to be. 

If the people around you are genuinly annoyed by your presence they will leave. they will not stay out of politeness, that is a you-thing. So if they are staying, they are good people. 

is this incoherent? it doesnt feel like that right now. Maybe its the drugs. Maybe 

im okay i think. 

I should apologize for being myself

 I should apologize for being myself, 

for the way my voice sounds, my arms flail around, 

the way my humor will always insult someone. 

I should apologize for being myself, 

my sick, depressed self, that doesnt offer anything, 

yet takes and takes and takes. 

Why are people friends with me? I seem to just be a burden. 

Maybe they feel good about helping a person. 

I suppose that might be reason. Stupid reason. 

please end this

i hate being alive

 i hate being alive, 
why do I have to wake up every day. 
I keep begging to god, 
but he doesn't listen to what I say. 

I wake up upset at life,
I go to sleep upset at death.
"please let me fucking die", 
I keep asking with every breath. 

But life goes on, 
another day, another mess. 
Why do I keep going, 
who am I trying to impress. 

Trying to prove something to someone, 
trying to show that there is hope. 
When drugs, alcohol and sleep, 
is the only way that I can cope. 

Hello, Goodbye, Fuck off, I say. 

I go to sleep to escape my day. 

Fuck

Maybe?

Maybe if I punch enough walls, 
and take enough of those pills. 

My crooked smile will return, 

because this depression, it kills, 

every shred of happiness in my soul, 

every shred of hope within this wreck, 

that I call my body, isn't it funny? 

Outside it is always so sunny, 

but my mind is clouded in darkness, 

a never ending ocean full of sad, 

a bottom less puddle on the sidewalk.

when it could be nothingness instead. 

Sometimes I wish I couldn't feel a thing, 

but this Apathy is worse than any sadness, 

Atleast I can feel anything. 

however terrible it might be,

whatever it might bring. 

Because I cannot even begin, 

to describe the selfhatred I feel when I look, 

just look at my future, or my life. 

Being alive stings like a knife, 

down im my stomach, 

I'd rather be dead, 

than feel this nothingness. 

And yet when the curtain lifts, 

the only thing that comes through is hate. 

Sometimes I think that it might be to late, 

to late to save the child that couldn't wait, 

to grow up, and now has too much on its plate. 

"forgetting"

 Just take your meds they say, 

then the pain will go away. 

But I know I deserve this pain, 

this selfhatred that is driving me insane. 

It is all I know and all I have, 

there is just nothing else left. 

Another day, another night passes by. 

I know I forgot the drugs, I sigh, 

I know I should take them I know they'll help, 

"but why would you do this", the voice yelps. 

"You know that you deserve this, 

you know that you are total shit, 

worthless, broken and a waste of air. 

It is not like anyone will care. "

So the sadness comes back, 

my hands start shaking again. 

Barely leaving my bed, 

Im just as useless as they said.

"Here's the proof" the voice says, 

"You're as useless, as you remember", 

a bit louder this time, just like

it is losing its temper. 

And there I fall again, 

back into the darkness embrace'

because thats what I deserve, 

I guess I am a hopeless case. 

22

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. 

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. 

everything is not wrong

hi. it has been a while.

im 21 now. way too old. older than i ever thought id live. ive been fighting with my depression and am now on medication, to keep my serotonin levels up. since after years of pretending apparently i actually have a problem. or i always had. i dont know. im never sure about me. what aspects are just those that i want, those i imagine, those that my parents tell me that i am or those that my sick brain sees.

the drugs seem to work. ive finished half of university in just a bit of time more than usual. i still hate myself and think im not worth anything, but atleast i work. its not paralyzing anymore and as long as i dont think about it, its fine. just suppress it. fake it till you make it. the old drill.

normally during the days im pretty fine. unless somthing stressful comes up. but its 5 am and im still awake and then my medication starts to wear off i guess, or its the darkness or whatever, but i get way sadder.
ive been having trouble going to sleep at a decent time for a bit over a week now. maybe longer. but i just have these wonderful dreams and then i wake up and live is still shitty and boring. especially since i often dream of sacrificing myself, which is the ultimate goal of my sick brain, so it starts relaxing and accepting, and then i wake up and realize that it was "only just a dream", to quote a song.

its so upsetting that ive been avoiding going to sleep for far too much time. and then i sleep a lot and wake up at 6 pm. wasted days, that just make me even more depressed. like a nice demonic cycle of depression. a spiral almost. unhealthy, but its difficult to break it.
even though i have sleep medication, its not working as well anymore, so even though i used to be able to just take my meds and knock out, i cant anymore, so im just in bed, thinking, for too long about not nice things.


but hey, some positives maybe.
im still in a relationship with the guy from uni. a bit over a year now. it is very nice. he has his moods and quirks but i love him a lot. my head though, that motherfucker just tries to find every excuse to destroy my life. from things like "youre not good enough for you" to "he only wants the sex" to " you deserve better, he is too perfect" it just makes it very difficult to be happy. i cant really bring it up to him though, since he is just started warming up to me. it was very difficult for him to be just himself and careless and happy while i was very sick a year ago, so now that i am healthier, his personality florishes. and i dont wanna ruin it, he looks very happy.

yes very positive. im just writing this down as i think, which is probably not the best way to do this. but it porbably doesnt make any coherent sense, but i do find it nice to read. atleast i rly liked my writing style form a year ago, its so similar to my speech pattern that i feel like i have stagnated in this year. just stayed the same. boring old kid, that knows nothing of the world and just wants for all too end because its just soo much, so much that i cannot handle.

Life is overwhelming right now. Just a tiny bit overwhelming.
But im used to overwhelming challenges, from my dad always pushing me in sport and math/science department to me surviving with bulimia and sitting through entire scar treatments without making a sound.
Maybe itll go well. I dont know right now.
Ill just focus on uni for now. 

Because I hate myself

Staying up until 5 am,
never resting, never calm,
always on the edge of me,
because I hate myself.

Spitting out food,
throwing up dinner,
just wanting to be thinner,
because I hate myself.

Never talking to anyone,
barely smiling, barely looking,
keeping my head down,
because I hate myself.

Parting skin,
slicing deeper and deeper,
blood as fresh as I love it,
because I hate myself.

I hate myself,
and I don't think that I can stop.

What Are Friends For Me

when can you trust a person,
when can you call them friends,
when can you trust them.
Who will follow until your life ends?

I trusted you, with my life,
was about to put it in your hands,
at your mercy, at your will.
now I can see how far my trust bends.

I don't care about safety,
don't care about love or me.
I don't care if youre a good person,
or a evil devil wannabe.

I'll throw myself at you,
for the smallest shard of attention,
to fill the void inside of me,
but your love was a beautiful deception.

I cut myself open on it,
tearing through my heart and soul.
Bleeding and crying,
but not letting go.

Because I would rather die clinging to another person who is hurting me,
than to live with myself again.
Because I would rather let someone who I love destroy me,
than to face my own demons again.
Because I would rather get abused helping someone else,
than to help myself.
Because I would rather swallow my tears to hold you and tell you
"it's going to be okay",
than to face the fact that I am insane.

On the lonely swing of life

Darkness around me, 
I am sitting on my own, 
On a childrens swing, 
Being all alone. 

A small light ingnites, 
I inhale the dust of death, 
Thinking about life, 
How my hope has left. 

Alcohol induced madness, 
Tears streaming down my face, 
But the darkness hides it, 
Here at my lonely place. 

You said you wanted to talk, 
Suddenly my numbness wasnt enough, 
And my depression hit me, 
Suicidal me came back rough. 

I dont know what happend, 
Just that it happened way to fast. 
And suddenly not gaming, 
Not alcohol, nothing would last. 

My brain is shouting at me, 
Telling me to bleed till i die, 
Telling me to leave life behind, 
Leaving my "friends" without goodbye. 

Soon ill be back, right? 
Back home, with nothing stopping me. 
Why would i hold back then, 
There is no light that i see. 

Just a dark swing, 
My terrible body on top of it. 
Swinging back and forth, 
Dying that tiny last bit. 

Lets go home, the voices say, 
Lets go home, itll be okay. 
Lets finally put an end to it, 
To not see the light of day. 

Why am i like this, 
Why cant i be able to live? 
Why cant the voices shut up, 
Why cant they forgive? 

They say i am a bad person, 
I guess they are right. 
I guess i shouldnt be living, 
Guess i shouldnt see the light. 

Lets go back home, 
And punish me for being alive. 
For being this terrible person, 
Lets pick up the knife. 

Its sharp enough, you know. 
And the pain will finally not be. 
They whisper. I cannot not listen. 
I am in pain, dont you see? 

You wanted to help, 
But you just made it worse. 
You did not bless me with your existence, 
And all your words were a curse. 

Now i am on this lonely swing, 
Remembering all my pain. 
How i couldn't be a child, 
How my childhood drove me insane. 

But no, i remember. 
Its my fault, thats what the voices mean. 
And they want me to be dead, 
 Its so loud, it cant be unseen. 

Ill go home and die. 
Its better this way? 
Thats what they mean, 
Thats what they say. 

Lonely swing, 
Robbed childhood, 
Unacceptant parents, 
Me never being good. 

Its the right way,
Thats what they say, 
On the swing of life, 
If youre dead youll finally be okay. 

Just do it.

When the morning comes

And when the morning comes,
His spirit breaks,
Another night's gone by.
Where he did nothing but to lie.

The room is quiet,
His friends breaths fill it out,
But yet he feels so alone.
As if everyone else has gone.

His eyes are dry but he wishes
They werent. To show the pain inside.
His torture everyday goes by,
Tbh he wants to die.

The pain grows stronger;
He clenches his fist,
Bites his tongue praying 

That they won't notice.

But they are asleep,
They didnt care, are they your friends?
You are so broken yet they cant see, 

maybe its time for you to seize to be.

Curled up in a ball,
Lonely tears on his face.
Breathing and living is hurting.