Darkness

I’ve been dead for 8 years, that’s how I usually explain dealing with the thoughts of suicide. When you’re prepared to give up on life can you really say you’re still living? For me it started at the shocking age of 8 years old, now I haven’t a clue how on earth I would have offed myself had I gone trough with it but nonetheless this darkness has never left me. I have certainly grown up and gotten stronger but the battle remains and in this time of turmoil the writer in me can’t help but jot things down during some of my best and worst moment so what the rest of this post holds is anything but happy poems and stories about rainbows and unicorns. Read at your own risk and remember, I’m still here so don’t do what I couldn’t.


I wish to do die, or so I say 9 years after I first thought so. I’m still here, life hasn’t gotten better. In fact it has gotten worse. I often wonder why I can’t give up and follow the one thing I’ve been most certain of my entire life. Hope? Such a fragile thing has long faded. Love? Only my cat holds it for me while I have plenty for others. I’m always putting others before myself, I’m not necessarily kind though. It keeps me busy and feel a lot less useless. In fact most often I see people as opportunities and could adapt to make friends with almost anyone. I don’t know who I am and why I’m still going.

Nobody really knows who I am and no one can save me. I’m a lost cause, yet I can’t escape yet. I’m fighting my fate, myself and plenty more. “I don’t want all my suffering to have been for nothing. It shouldn’t be all I knew.” My reason for living, I couldn’t find anything better. The world will go on without me though some might fall after me that won’t be able to bother me when I’m gone. Still something keeps resisting keeping me in this hell. They say suicide sends you to hell but I’ve got the feeling that place isn’t half as bad as what I’m going through right now.

I fake a smile and say I’m fine. I don’t even know why, but it hurts that no one has come up and called me on bluff. No one has tried to save me, I’m on my own. Together alone. How mannieth time is this that I’ve hit rock bottom, 5th? 6th? Sigh, why bother thinking of reasons to keep me here? Even a stupid to do list… But I really do want to do those things but I also really want this shit to be over.

“You say you wish to die, but in reality you just want to be saved.” “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” What if there’s nothing worth saving? What if problems aren’t temporary and those that are get solved only to give way to more? I could jump out of the window right now, I live on the 5th floor, but… always buts… always indecisive. Total opposites, 2 voices never giving me a rest. So many decisions, never a right answer.

I don’t even remember what being happy is like, I get paranoid when I’m on a lucky streak, insomnia and hallucinations are usual occurrences. So many disorders it’s hard to distinguish them and who’s causing what. Always exhausted, never good enough. Pessimist, an optimist who’s been disappointed too often. From stories I’ve heard that I was a happy kid once upon a time. It’s been so long since I’ve gone wrong. I might seem innocent and weak but I have a dark side I don’t like showing, how else have I survived so long. I can count the times I’ve been angry, not pissed, really angry. That’s when all the swallowed words and beard pain breaks free. The results were never pretty.

If people that claim to know me ever read this they’d probably be shocked, we all have our secrets but mine are very very dark. Some know I imagine pretty scenarios and happy endings but I also imagine killing myself or others or at least letting them feel something close to my pain. They might try to save me but then it’d be to late, I’m already far gone. Even if I live even the part fighting to stay alive agrees I don’t want to grow old, it’s just a matter of time. Still I’d prefer if I was killed or something, matter of honour and it’d take the decision away from me.

For now I’ll focus on completing my to do list, some entries are very childish but whatever. One might take a very long time and I’m not sure if I can complete it. Then there are things I want to say to certain people, I can only do that on the last day I guess. Will I leave a note? Do I want to be buried? How can I kill myself in a way that my organs can still be donated? Man I’ve never really sorted those things out, huh.


Caught in war 

Why am I always torn

Why can I never choose

After years I’m all worn

I think I’m soon to lose

A war without a victor

And nothing to be gained

With all I’ve been trough

It has only earned me pain

Still I cling to wishes

It’s what gets me out of bed

But in fact the truth is

They only created chaos in my head

Stalked by nightmares

Lost in dreams

It leaves me scared

I wish I could scream

I don’t remember happiness

I’m paranoid when I’m in luck

Innocence is a long gone bliss

I pretend not to give a fuck

But I do care

I still feel

Even though I’m scared

I want theses wounds to heal

Fantasy is my escape

Writing my way to vent

Loneliness something I crave

Food a main event

Socially awkward

A clumsy romantic

But don’t get it backwards

I’m still a fun chick

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