What are you looking for?
2 months ago · · Stress, · Explicit
I hate it when people tell me I can't be sad because I don't know what it's like to be raped or abused or starving. They make me sound as if I am being petty and trivial and throwing a large tantrum when in reality, I just want to spend a few extra hours in bed so I can be depressed in peace. (And do note that these attempts to stay in bed during the day are not even on school days, but during breaks or weekends after I have completed a large amount of work.) I do not want to be given "special attention". In fact, I don't really want any attention at all. It WOULD be nice if someone would sincerely ask how I'm feeling and listen to me talk or cry or scream or curse without judging me. It WOULD be nice if someone would take me to see a professional so I can figure out how much of this is mental illness and how much of it is imagined. It WOULD be nice if someone could purchase sleeping medication for me (One USD per bottle/box, nothing expensive) or at least let me buy them with my own money without having to sneak around to do it. It WOULD be nice if someone would look into the awful pain I have in my back or the constant migraines I suffer. Hell, I'd settle for the boxes of cheap aspirins and icy hot patches that I buy every so often. But I'm not actively asking anyone for that because I know everything isn't about me. I know it costs money to send me to school, and I know it costs money to feed me (Even if I don't really eat so much anymore) and to clothe me (Even though I haven't asked for anything new for myself in a few years) and to provide me with shelter. I know it would cost even more money to take me to a doctor or a therapist and even MORE money to pay for a perscription or several. So I don't ask for any of these things. I don't even ask for the cheap stuff, and I don't mention my aches and pains- mental or physical. I'm fat and kind of ugly, so maybe that's why nobody really cares and feel okay implying that I'm a selfish and lazy brat (Really though, I'm in my room all day studying and I just earned 32 credits within three months. How is that lazy?) I guess that's why it's also okay to make snide little comments about my eating habits (Even though I actually don't eat as much as I used to; in fact, one "meal" for most people is enough for me for an entire day or even three.) How many meals I skip really depends more on my mood and nausea level, not my hunger, because I'm almost never hungry anymore. I don't even ask to stay in the bed. Yes, sometimes I fall asleep on the floor in my room when I should be studying, and sometimes I do just crawl into bed around eight because I'm too tired to even consider staying up another two hours, but I don't feel entitled to get what I want. I don't feel entitled to people's pity or sympathy. I sometimes feel entitled to a weekend off because I study through breaks and weekends and I don't take off summers, which is fine, and also because I am truly exhausted from what goes on in my head through the course of a day. I have turned to the Internet for help before (And, big surprise, it's full of assholes) and not gotten much help. Music I enjoy isn't really welcome in my home, and neither is my preferred style of art. (I understand the need to be responsible and not allow the younger children to see anything explict or frightening, but if I can find solace in having a dark or moody picture in my room, could I not just keep it on a wall where they won't see? And really, my music is not Satanic, with the exception of Slipknot, whom I will gladly stop listening to if that would win myself some favour.) I do not feel entitled to those things either. I don't feel as if I deserve "special treatment", but sometimes I wish my problems would be taken just a seriously as other people's food allergies. I'm literally debating overdosing myself tonight on the sleeping pills I bought yesterday. Is that not a legitimate cause for concern, considering that last year I actually did attempt suicide by overdosing? (No one knew, but I actually did pass out for a few hours so I guess it almost worked.) I don't mind being told I'm well off, because I am. (Even if money is tight right now.) What I do mind is being told that I absolutely MUST be happy and highly responsive at all times BECAUSE I have "so much to be thankful for". Most of the "things" being spouted off at me can be bought with money and are NOT essential on a basic level (e.i. games that I never even wanted or asked for, expensive computer and laptop I never asked for, new paint on the walls in my room that I literally said I didn't need, etc.) Whatever happened to "money can't buy happiness"? I'm grateful, but gratefulness is not happiness last time I checked. I'm in constant pain, I am torn up over the whole LGBTQ thing because I want to be something I'm not and never will be (Sorry, but I don't believe that sex changes really change a person from male to female or vice versa, but it's totally fine if that's what you want for yourself, I respect that.) I can't stomach seeing my own face or body because I know it's ugly, I can't even escape through art and music or writing because I feel like Kasane (In the sense that she also felt that she could not express the beauty of art or even exist in society unless she too was beautiful) and I'm almost certain I have several disorders/mental illnesses, but internet quizzes and self-diagnostics are not very accurate, so I when I entertain this possibility I just come across as one of the attention whores on the net who posts anime quotes and has breakups and meltdowns every other week (Yes, I know that there are some people who have it rough and post those things to help themselves, but I am referring to individuals who are not in any kind of distress but enjoy using various labels to validate their melodrama.) Really, to sum it up, I'm just tired and so done with everything and everyone. I don't want to be bothered. I don't want to exist in my own body or my own mind. I writhe on the inside if I'm not hiding my ugly body beneath a jacket and two extra layers of clothing, and I took off my jacket so I could write this without suffocating but I'm fucking cringing because I can see myself and I hate it. I guess I chose the wrong title for this post, but I was really upset earlier because I was snapped at for mutely nodding and shaking my head instead of speaking (Which I only do at home because I do understand that I have to speak up for myself). It just spiraled off into this because I'm hot and moody and debating whether or not I want to just swallow all twelve pills plus the little liquid I have left in the bottle and be done with this. I mean seriously, why bother with this shit? The only reason I haven't done this yet is because I am afraid of the whole "suicides go to Hell" thing. I have to go now, and maybe I'll come back and check on this later. I probably won't attempt because I usually don't try anything, even when I start talking like this. (So for the record, if I ever respond and identify myself as the original author of this, I just literally confessed that this is more venting and speculation than a bonafide suicide note.) I was so excited to start taking classes again this fall in art, but then I just remembered that I'm like Kasane. I'm ugly and gross in weight and shape, so I can't express beauty. I'm damaged and mentally disturbed, so I can't gain pity from people because the things plauging my mind receive the same attention being homosexual in 1960 might have gotten you. I'm provided for and I live comfortably, so I can't get help because "nothing bad has happened" to me. I truly am alone, and for all the kind words I have received in other posts here, I have no one. Maybe that sounds melodramatic, but thus far everyone I have ever met, online or in person, including my family, has proven that when people promise me they'll stay, they're going to leave me. When I'm told I'm loved, it's on a condition that I'l eventually fail to meet. When I'm told I can say anything, anything at all, I'm berated and mocked. (Even LGBTQ members for all their accepting-ness can't be bothered to pity someone who wants to be something else but can't quite accept that transitioning is realistic. Seriously guys? You're going to bully me for asking if transitioning is really fulfilling and not just avoiding the truth? I Just want to know before I chop off my body parts and pump myself with drugs, geez. And if the church could be a little more helpful in explaining some of these verses about homosexuality and the translation error theories instead of looking at me funny when I ask questions, that would be nice too.) There is nowhere that I really fit, except maybe my bed. It sounds funny, but that's the one place I ever feel even remotely comfortable in my own skin: When I'm laying down, talking to the best friend who lives inside my head. So I don't ask for much, and I don't want much. If I can't commit suicide without going to Hell, can't ask either the church or the queer population about my identity crisis, can't get a steady flow of medication, can't seek professional help, can't eat, can't stop eating, can't think straight, can't have any friends, can't gain anyone's sympathy-
Then can I please just have one goddamned day to spend crying alone under my blanket?