A Look Into Some of the Insanity

~*`An explanation as to the source of my incredibly toxic Twitter posts as of late... `*~


I know it seems pathetic to vent so much on a social network, to cry out to friends and complain about how depressed I am and that I want to kill myself. It seems juvenile. But these aren't cries for attention... they're cries for help. Currently I have no transportation to get myself to counseling, so I only have my friends and family to turn to. I've heard every reason not to give in. "You'd be hurting those around you", "your life isn't that bad", "there's nothing in this world worth killing yourself over".

I can't argue much with the first reason, as much as it almost makes me regret having people that care about me. I don't want to hurt anyone, though I don't have enough of a sense of self-worth to really feel like I'd matter much a month after my demise. The second reason I can easily tear down. I know my life isn't horrible compared to many, many others. I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach (most of the time) and clothes on my back. I have people who care about me and things to keep me busy. But despite all of that, I constantly feel down. I try to tell myself over and over that I'm lucky compared to many and that I'm selfish for being so depressed all the time. But the depression doesn't go away and neither do my manic thoughts or feelings of intense emotional pain. The frontal lobes of my brain seem broken, constantly compromising my rationality. I'm bitter, jaded, angry, tired... It's like no matter how hard I try to "just cheer up" and get over my shit, it won't go away. I never used to believe in clinical depression or bi-polar disorder. I thought it was just psycho-babble bullshit made up by psychiatrists to make an excuse for people who were just mopey fuckers so they could try to sell them on equally bullshit medication and send them on their not-so-merry way. Well, now I'm a believer. This shit has to be real, because I can't think of any other explanation as to why every day is such a struggle to keep my emotions in check or be happy. And lately, given certain circumstances, I feel like the anger and sorrow is going to literally kill me, whether it be an involuntary heart attack or a decision to finally off myself. Every day feels harder and harder to "hold on" and I'm sick of doing it. Life isn't about forcing yourself to "hold on". It's about doing what good you can with your time and being happy. "There's nothing in this world worth killing yourself over". There's PLENTY in this world worth killing yourself over. I'm a cynic, yes. It's not a good quality, but it's a part of me. Humanity can be so beautiful; we possess so many qualities that can be and are used for good. But then every time you turn around, there's someone to fuck it up. People lie, they cheat, they hurt, they betray. It almost seems not worth living in a world where you don't know who you can trust, because, to quote a movie I watched two nights ago... "We only have each other". Why put yourself through that if you don't have to? Why would the Higher Power insist on making us feel pain so frequently?

As I write this, I'm watching a movie called "Wristcutters", which is either the best thing for me to watch right now, or the worst thing. Yes, the movie plot is pretty well explained by the title.

I've struggled with thoughts of suicide almost my entire life, like it's a part of my fucking DNA. I actually drew up a suicide plan at the age of about 6 or so, and it terrified my mother. I don't tell many people that, but now I feel I should share it. My ongoing battle with suicidal thoughts might be something to be ashamed of, but it's a part of me and I cannot hide it, just as no alcoholic or drug addict can hide their addiction.

I was afraid to write this blog and I'm afraid to publish it. But if I didn't tell someone how I felt, if I didn't get it written down and out there... It would remain bottled within me and antagonize me further. I'd rather be that creepy goth bitch who is entirely too depressing, "emo" and pathetic than keep it inside me until it eats its way out.

I'm holding on, to the best of my ability. I know that there's help for me out there and that it will get better. The trick is holding on until that happens, which is the hardest part. Giving up would be so easy and I so badly yearn to give up...

I hope no one judges me poorly for this blog. I'm coping in as many ways as I can to keep myself going. If I lose anyone over this, I deeply regret it, but won't be surprised. I know a lot of people who don't want to associate themselves with "that person", and I suppose at this juncture I could be seen as "that person". I'm working on getting help, because only I can take the steps to getting myself fixed. I want to be better. I want to be happy again.

And I will be.

Oh No, Not Another One!

~*` Ah, blogs. How the world has abused you. `*~


This has to be at least my fifth blog. It all started with DeadJournal - oh, my beloved DeadJournal. Then I joined LiveJournal. Then I "blogged" on MySpace. MySpace was practically abandoned, now I write "notes" on Facebook. DeadJournal and LiveJournal still get used... occasionally. Oh yes, and I have a "Xanga", but I haven't touched that poor little thing in ages either. I essentially decided to create this blog so that my long Twitter posts had somewhere to go. (Wanting to share a long document on Safety Information, I figured this would be a good idea.) I'm sure from time to time I will write something "substantial" in here. Or maybe it will just be my incessant rambling. Hell, this probably won't even get read. Regardless! This blog is here, and it is mine. (Or so the internet tells me.)


Wicked Wishes,

~*` P i x i e `*~