I don’t actually want anyone to read this (not like anyone would, it’s far too long), but at the same time it hurts not being able to call someone up and ask them to come over so I can rant to them. Or to barge into one of my roommates rooms and lay on their bed and cry to them.
Then again, if I were still with my roommates I wouldn’t exactly be this depressed.
I miss them. I miss living with them. I miss being with them every day. I miss the family connection we had. I miss waking up and not knowing what the next day was going to hold, but knowing that it was going to probably be exciting. I miss waking up to voices in the living room of people I love. I miss almost everything about my life with them. I miss when it was just the five of us.
My loneliness has driven me to suicide attempts several times throughout my life. Twice within the past six months, as well. I have never felt this alone. I haven’t gone out and hung with people my own age but maybe twice or three times in the past few months. I’m not used to this. I’m not accustomed to just…being by myself for months at a time- especially not when it’s not my choice.
There’s no one here. The people that are here I just don’t want to see for various reasons and forcing myself to see them just because I’m lonely could easily make things worse. I’m used to not only having a social life, but having a pretty demanding social life as well. All through high school and so far through college I’ve been doing nothing but hanging out, partying, clubbing, being with people, festivals, shows, events…and oftentimes being asked to be at two or more places at once.
And then all of a sudden, I’m thrown into this cage of isolation. For months. With nothing to do, no one to see. Just like that.
And the things that have happened in these months regarding my living situation and my parents have been hellish, torturous, and oppressive. A feeling of infinite loneliness is possibly one of the most painful things one can feel.
I’ve never had to deal with this. I don’t quite know how. I’ve been doing everything in my power to find something to do; I took up running every day, I do drugs from the moment I wake up till I go to sleep to deal with it, I’ve started drinking nightly again, I’ve begun cutting again, I’ve stopped eating, I’m finally working on the glow in the dark kandi star decoration I’ve been wanting to, I’ve begun compulsively folding miniature paper cranes like I did in middle school, I’ve tried almost every single free MMO out there, I’ve been keeping up with my schoolwork and doing homework every fucking day, job hunting nonstop, I’ve started making music again, I’m drawing again, I clean, I run errands for my parents, I take my doges for walks, I’ve started texting a bit more again, I’m making christmas ornaments…in october, I’m learning how to cook certain things because my mom’s been asking me to, I can’t play video games anymore because I’ve lost literally every bit of joy in me that took happiness from doing recreational things,…
I could go on but there’d be no point.
Basically, I’m doing everything I possibly can to keep my mind off the loneliness. Nothing does. Nothing. The feeling is so deeply embedded in me that I can’t do anything to purge it.
And on top of all this, I have to deal with the things my father does to me and says to me…and I have to deal with my mother being overly intrusive every day and nagging. And I have to deal with disappointing them both and them both constantly letting me know.
And I keep begging and begging people to come up and see me and there are certain times where they could have and just …didn’t. And I’ve never been rejected blatantly like that before, especially not by people I love, so I don’t know how to deal with that either. But it seems to me that not only does no one need me, but no one wants me, either.
So I’m stuck being locked in one little room every single day. Repeating, repeating, struggling, dying, slowly losing everything and everyone,…
And I just don’t see a point anymore.
Sure, time will heal things and if I could hold on till January, it’d probably get better. Or at lease the situation would change. But waiting is such a cruel, ruthless, unforgiving game that I just can’t play anymore. And I don’t have the ability to speed up time, nor do I have the ability to force people to come see me and save me from loneliness (which is now synonymous with death).
I’m so sick of waking up and crying every single day and popping pills and cutting myself all day long and drinking at night and doing more drugs and letting all my interests and passions succumb to my unyielding depression.
I have a paper due next week that I’m halfway done with, I can’t bring myself to do my mathwork, I dropped my other class like the failure I am, I’ve gained three pounds which almost sent me to a suicide attempt a few days ago because I had a full fledged panic attack over it and cut myself up over and tried for hours to purge, I’m sick of being ugly and fat and starting to think that that’s why people are rejecting me, I woke this morning up to my father yelling at me and pulling me up by my hair and yelling more and other things I won’t mention and slamming doors, I have a mild hangover from last night, I want to quit seeing my psychologist so badly because I’m so done with working on myself and trying to get better when it obviously will never happen, I’m sick of not having money and certain people rubbing it in my face that I’m broke and can’t afford certain drugs, I’m sick of forcing myself to wake up when I know that there’s virtually no point, I’m sick of searching for a purpose and a meaning when there obviously is none, I’m sick of trying to stay on top of my schoolwork…
Did you know guinea pigs can die from loneliness? And other animals do, as well. Why should people be any different? When you’re forced into isolation and can’t do anything about it… what else is there to do but wither away and die? They’ve run experiments on this, as well. I remember reading an article on an experiment they did where they locked someone away (who participated willingly) in a house with all the necessary means and cut him off from society to test how long a human being could live without human contact. I believe he lasted less than a year before he pressed the button to be released. There have been many other experiments done as well….and the punishment of “solitary confinement” is debated strongly for this reason. It could very literally kill someone.
I haven’t been cut off from the outside world…but I have been cut off from any means of hanging out with anyone and any means of having fun with someone other than myself. Even exercises like running that naturally release endorphins end up making me depressed because I realize I’m alone and there’s no one running with me. And it hurts going out for errands or anything at all, because I know that everyone around me is living a life without having ever experienced the intense pains of prolonged isolation. And they chat loudly about their lives to people who will listen…people who are friends. Something I feel I don’t have right now because no one is here. And it’s not like there’s any options where I’m at right now. And I don’t have the money to visit anyone in other places, even my closest friends who are 1-2 hours away from me.
And then there’s the romance situation in my life. It’s so complicated I can’t even go into detail, really, but I can’t do long distance anymore. And that one week was not enough to say yes or no. Caming isn’t enough. I can’t feel her, I can’t kiss her, I can’t lay in her arms, I can’t hug her, I can’t hold onto her and tangibly assure myself that she’s not going anymore, I can’t lay next to her and hear her breathing…It hurts. It hurts enough to kill me. Being so far away…and knowing that she has someone else. Knowing that if I were gone, she’ll always have someone else regardless. Knowing that I’m practically as good as 2nd best to her. To them…
I just…can’t do it anymore. I can’t even rant anymore. I’m so tired of everything. I am exhausted. Loneliness is exhausting… No one seems to understands how much of a toll doing nothing and being with no one can take on the human body and mind.
I don’t feel as though I can go on anymore. I can’t play the waiting game anymore. I don’t even feel like I have the option to wait anymore…because there’s practically no one there for me. And, of course, when people find out how often I am suicidal and how depressed I actually am, people get bored of me and stop trying to help me. They realize after a while that I’m a lost cause and that being there for me every day is too much of a task to uphold. And I just can’t do it anymore.
I’ve had so many failed suicide attempts it’s ridiculous. I know I’ve had at least 50, probably closer to 100. Possibly even over that. And too many hospital visits to count. And a handful of mental hospital and psych ward stays that have all but traumatized me for life.
I just can’t do it anymore. I know I say that a lot…but I legitimately feel like this is the right decision. Like there is nothing else I can do. Even my psych knows that there’s not much I can do/have control over right now. But one thing I do have control over is whether I live or die. And living a life of torture is just…not worth it in my eyes. I can’t do it. I can’t do this anymore.