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[Armok]

Oh!

I'm sorry, I thought you were making a joke about being the best person in the whole world. Yeah, it brings you down a bit doesn't it, how bad off some people are? Worst bit's knowing that you really can't do much from your monitor, which is admittedly a small gripe but I feel guilty for not helping you guys out more because I really can't relate. Occasionally you can help people though, and it's the best feeling in the world. Thank you to those who gave me this feeling.

I'm sad for this reason. So many peaple here have horible parents, techers, friends, governments, and general suroundings...

[zchris13]

Scary story, simply because near the beginning it was exactly the same as my story. Only I had the fortune of my surroundings improving, where other students did mature and grow to just leave me alone. Unfortunately, my problems were mild enough that instead of some great events defining my life I'm left stagnated. Nothing terrible happens to me but nothing terribly great happens either. No motivation to move forward, no motivation to fight or hate.

 But I see that kid, restless and in wanting, see this story and sympathize. And cause a young man who could not cry for the pain of his family to weep.

 Rock on man.

*Soaring guitar instrumental*

@ARMOK: And so many people are suffering, who could be better if they just got over themselves.

[Godwin]

Isn't there far more to Japanese culture as a whole than schoolgirls? Isn't that kind of a misrepresentation, like advertising Russian Culture by sending out a bunch of guys with big mustaches and furry hats with the hammer and sickle on them, along with posters decrying the debauchery of the upper class?

I'd totally join Russian Club if it was advertised that way. Especially if they added vodka.

Hahlo komradz, velcome to dah mahtha rahssia clahb. Todahy we shall talk about dah glorys of dah great soviet union! To stahlin!

Of course the only song ever played is that one Moscow song over and over again and the only color you can wear is red. Of course, our mission will be to make a spaceship powered by paintings of cubes.

[cganya]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I hate myself. I can't figure out why.

I just feel incompetent. I feel ugly, and stupid, and annoying, and bumbling, and useless, and I don't even know why. Every time I do something, I feel people talking about me, everywhere I go. Every word I don't hear is about me, and it's negative. And It's stupid that I think that, because if my memory serves, no one has ever called me stupid to my face. Ever. But that's what I hear.

I can't say I have problems. Hell, I'm probably one of the luckiest sunsa bitches in my state. But I can't get it out of my head. I hear it, all the time, not like some sort of "voices in my head" bullshit, but it's like I don't trust people. I have this feeling that everyone hates me, and when they say otherwise they're lying. And I shouldn't is the thing, I have every reason to be happy and oblivious and all that, but I'm not. I'm paranoid, and I hate everything, and I think everything hates me too.

How can I put this in words? I lay awake, every night, staring at the ceiling. Thinking. Thinking about how everyone hates me, about how I'm malicious, and lazy, and ugly, and no one will ever like me. Ever. Alone. Forever. And I think about this for hours, every night, and I can't sleep. So I don't sleep, I draw things. I draw things so horrible I tear them up and hide the pieces, and I sit awake for another hour thinking about how I'm a freak and everyone hates me, and I can't rest. Ever.

The only time I can relax is when I'm completely alone, because whenever anyone else is around, I can only think about how they hate me. And I trip over my own words trying to not make a mistake, and when I fumble with a word or say something even vaguely awkward, it feels like a hot iron is being driven into my chest. And I find a corner and I draw.

I would never hurt anyone. Just the idea turns my stomach. But I get so angry, angry because I don't feel that anyone cares for me, anyone. And it grit my teeth and I twist my head until my spine cracks and I pull muscles, and I sit there, wherever I am, and I stew in my hate, and I don't do anything. When I was younger, I got angry and I broke a metal bar off of my bed. I was frothing, and I couldn't think, and all I wanted to do was to destroy something so that people would understand how much I hated everything.

Never again. At this point I can hardly ask for anything, and I still feel needy and demanding.


I don't know. I just don't know. I have a lot of ideas on why I don't trust anyone, but no answers. And no matter how much I think about it it never gets any better. And I can't tell anybody because every time I try to tell someone it just makes things worse.



I just feel so hated. Or maybe I feel that way because I hate myself. Or maybe it's a chemical thing, which is a serious possibility, as my mother and her sister have the same thing. And I think my dad does too, but I'm not sure. I see so much my myself in him, but I'm not sure of any of my judgments at this point.



I don't know. I just want to trust people and not feel this constricting feeling in my gut every time I talk to someone. I hate so many things, but whenever I don't hate, I just feel so empty.

I don't know. I can't tell anyone that matters. I just want to tell someone. But I can't trust anyone. I can't trust my friends, I can't trust my parents, I can't even trust my brother. My brother. I know him better than I know myself, and I can't bring myself to trust him. What am I supposed to do?


So when I say that if I went through what you went through, I would have broken, you have to understand. I would have snapped. And that scares me so much. I scare me.


Does anyone know what that's like? To be ten years old and to have dreams of rotting guts, and brains mounted on pikes with chittering teeth eternally chanting nonsense? To see emaciated corpses, walking down black hallways with piercing eyes that gleam like porcelain as they stare at you? To have dream after dream of cannibals and worms and loved ones, trapping me in a corner and ripping me to pieces because of my wretchedness? To experience being turned into a mass of blood and bone and metal, a gelatinous mass that kills everything it touches.

Every night, every night of my fucking life I see visions of sex and death and constriction and entrapment, and I can't escape. Ever. Ever. I'm fucking trapped in my own fucked up brain, and no matter what I say or what I do, no one will know that I've lived in a rusted out hulk drifting in a cloud of blood, with mockeries of people haunting every unbearable passage. That I've seen myself split and contort into an insectoid beast that raises an army of dead children to serve on it's labrynthine castle that drips poisonous ichor from endless spires.

No matter what I break, no matter what I say, no matter what I do, no one will understand what that's like. To live lifetimes, trapped in your own mind. And I feel so alone.

Here's my load of angsty bullocks. Read it or don't. I really hope you read it, because I want someone to know what it's like to be me.

I just want someone to know what I see and not let it make them depressed, or scared, or angry. I just want to be accepted for what I am and not feel like an abomination.

I would suggest trying to get the help of a psychologist. Not that I'm hitting a knee jerk reaction or anything but they can be a very neutral source of listening for you to vent your feelings with and provide hopefully helpful feedback.

in response to The Eviscerator of Gods -
I tried to view the world as "better or worse than me" for a long time. It's not worth it. There are always people better off or worse off than yourself. even when I was at my worst I was supposed to take comfort in the fact that a $3000 credit card debt is a pittance in comparison to some debts others have had to pay off.

I grew up being told I didn't have it as bad as some other person in life. I had the problem where no matter how crappy I felt and was being treated, it wasn't enough for me to really act out, or complain. It is infuriating and depressing but you have to deal with it and move on. Save your energy for something that makes you even a little bit happy. like video games.

and in response to Dwarf -

Boredom is a bad reason to end your life. You get to do life once by the most negative of estimates, at least go through it as long as you can. Boredom is such a beatable affliction as well. I posted this little thing in life advice but I think it's pertinent here was well:

explore the world around you, commune with it and relax/take in the sights.

You may think you know the whole area around where you live but it can surprise you.

where my parents live is a huge rolling hill/swampland filled with annoying small bushes and plants that make the area thick and hard to move through. I decided to conquer a hard task one day. I could see a section of ever green trees that covered at least a square mile, about a mile back from my backyard. I had to cross an abandoned beaver damn to reach the edge and then nimbly cross the maze of foot holds across meter deep sections of swamp, using rotten trees that regularly collapsed under their own weight as supports.

in the end I made it and found gold. half a kilometer into the thick evergreen wall and deep swamp floor, I found the moss field. For about 1.5 kilometers in each direction there were tall ever green's whose lower branches had died. The upper branches kept out much of the sunlight and allowed moss to grow thick. very thick. There was about a foot to two thick layer of moss over the swampy terrain and it was spring green.

The area was nearly silent. I navigated to a protruding boulder and sat. I listened and smelled and felt the serenity of this place and deemed it a holy place untouched by man.

Every area has a treasure such as this, even city centers. One must simply be ready to take the journey needed to find it.

-edit - hurrr it's [/b] not [/bold]

[dragnar]

But hanging yourself? that seems painful. plus it wont protect against zombieitis.

Ah yes, because if you are contemplating suicide, the most important consideration is whether or not you could come back as a zombie.

Oh!

I'm sorry, I thought you were making a joke about being the best person in the whole world. Yeah, it brings you down a bit doesn't it, how bad off some people are? Worst bit's knowing that you really can't do much from your monitor, which is admittedly a small gripe but I feel guilty for not helping you guys out more because I really can't relate. Occasionally you can help people though, and it's the best feeling in the world. Thank you to those who gave me this feeling.

I'm sad for this reason. So many peaple here have horible parents, techers, friends, governments, and general suroundings...

Seriously, the most depressing thing I have seen recently is, ironically, this thread...

[ToonyMan]

It's ironic the sad thread makes you sad?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It would be ironic if the HAPPY thread made you sad.

[Duke 2.0]

Of course the only song ever played is that one Moscow song over and over again and the only color you can wear is red. Of course, our mission will be to make a spaceship powered by paintings of cubes.

Moscow, Moscow
 throw your glasses at the wall
 Russia is a beautiful land
 Ho ho ho ho ho Hey!
 Your spirit is so great
 The Devil's loose there every night
 Ah ha ha ha ha, Hey!

[RedKing]

When I was a kid, I realized that the Soviet national anthem sounded so much cooler than the American one. And had to hide this information, lest I be labeled a Commie sympathizer. (Having family origins in Russia already had me on the "suspicious" list.)

I'm sad that I can't remember the lyrics in Russian anymore.

[Vector]

Does anyone know what that's like? To be ten years old and to have dreams of rotting guts, and brains mounted on pikes with chittering teeth eternally chanting nonsense? To see emaciated corpses, walking down black hallways with piercing eyes that gleam like porcelain as they stare at you? To have dream after dream of cannibals and worms and loved ones, trapping me in a corner and ripping me to pieces because of my wretchedness? To experience being turned into a mass of blood and bone and metal, a gelatinous mass that kills everything it touches.

Yes, but I was 5 (and also 19, which was when the constant thoughts of how to turn everyone else into bloody fountains came back).  I didn't really have dreams exactly like that.  Mostly, I had dreams about lighting my mother/schools/whatever on fire and, later, I couldn't stop thinking about everyone around me exploding into puddles of gore which lapped around my feet.

Then I learned to swallow my pride enough to say "I need help," and received it (the first time, I just started reading so much that I didn't really live in the real world anymore).  I stopped hating everyone then, even though I'd had a long childhood of being bullied and beat up under teachers' noses.

I don't know.  You're not alone.

[Godwin]

Does anyone know what that's like? To be ten years old and to have dreams of rotting guts, and brains mounted on pikes with chittering teeth eternally chanting nonsense? To see emaciated corpses, walking down black hallways with piercing eyes that gleam like porcelain as they stare at you? To have dream after dream of cannibals and worms and loved ones, trapping me in a corner and ripping me to pieces because of my wretchedness? To experience being turned into a mass of blood and bone and metal, a gelatinous mass that kills everything it touches.

Yes, but I was 5 (and also 19, which was when the constant thoughts of how to turn everyone else into bloody fountains came back).  I didn't really have dreams exactly like that.  Mostly, I had dreams about lighting my mother/schools/whatever on fire and, later, I couldn't stop thinking about everyone around me exploding into puddles of gore which lapped around my feet.

Then I learned to swallow my pride enough to say "I need help," and received it (the first time, I just started reading so much that I didn't really live in the real world anymore).  I stopped hating everyone then, even though I'd had a long childhood of being bullied and beat up under teachers' noses.

I don't know.  You're not alone.

I don't know. I don't have dreams where I fantasize about killing, or about being killed, I have nightmares.

How can I explain? It's like my mind is fighting against itself, drudging up all of my greatest phobias and combining them into twisted mockeries of reality. The best way I can describe it is by looking at the work of the painter Zdzislaw Beksinski.



This is the sort of thing I see in my dreams. Horrible nonsensical nightmares of hanging intestines and human ghouls, luring me into corners and tearing me to pieces just as I wake up. Of suicide and destruction and death, and it's all my fault. Everything.

When I was twelve I had a dream that my grandmother killed herself. And she blamed me. When I was 14 I had a dream that I was trapped under a layer of ice, and I felt it. I felt the suffocation, I felt my skin freeze and my lungs tie up. Even now, every week or two, it will happen again. A dream where I suffocate. And I can't stop it.

I'm not suicidal, I'm not violent, and I'm not rude. I just can't escape.



You know, I probably sound totally nuts. And maybe I am. But I'd rather be nuts and honest than sane and in denial.

[ToonyMan]

I think you're fine Godwin.  I usually get stabbed in my dreams.

Like every time, and it feels freakin' weird.

[RedKing]

I periodically look around when I'm driving, and have flashes where my mind pictures what it would all look like as burning rubble, like after a nuke or carpet bombing or such.

I think that's more common for my generation than people like to admit. We were raised on stuff like "The Day After" and "Damnation Alley". Or even that scene from Terminator 2 where the playground gets nuked.

[Solifuge]

I rarely remember my dreams anymore, and I miss having nightmares. Mine often featured places I am familiar with being twisted into unfamiliarity, natural  forces I can't overcome (I try to run or try to approach something, but am held back almost like I'm moving through a gel), etc. I've had rare dreams where I'm physically harmed, but it usually doesn't hurt much in the dream.  Breathing water happens often in dreams involving swimming (of which I have a lot), and I also often realize I'm dreaming, and gain more control over it that way, which offsets nightmares.

I often have dreams featuring music of my own composition... complicated original orchestral works my subconscious writes on the fly, etc. I once had a dream that retold the story of a novel I'd just finished as a musical, complete with an overture and variations on it, full instrumentation, properly cadenced rhyming lyrics (they made little sense, but the music was there), etc. When I woke up, I furiously tried to record as much of the arrangement as I could, but all I got was a pitiful 4 bars of the overture's melody before it faded, which was nothing without the other parts.

Sadly, I can only write good music in my dreams.

[smigenboger]

I periodically look around when I'm driving, and have flashes where my mind pictures what it would all look like as burning rubble, like after a nuke or carpet bombing or such.

If you enjoy reliving your horrible flashes of everything burning, there's a screensaver that is an animated version of your desktop background on fire. It looked very nice on my wolf background

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[cganya]

I periodically look around when I'm driving, and have flashes where my mind pictures what it would all look like as burning rubble, like after a nuke or carpet bombing or such.

If you enjoy reliving your horrible flashes of everything burning, there's a screensaver that is an animated version of your desktop background on fire. It looked very nice on my wolf background

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I have that one, its quite good.