| time. |
[06/08/08 @ 6:50pm] |
i've begun to discover that time is my worst enemy.
some people complain about having too little time - too few hours in a day to get done what they want; too few days in a week to get obligations finished. me, i'm the opposite. i have too much time on my hands - it's not so much that i'm not busy as i quite simply don't want to be burdened with this thing called 'time' anymore. people will complain about time running out: only 2 days to finish a project. only a month to lose weight for summer. but in my case, everything but time is running out. i have no assets; i have no happiness; i have nothing left in the day to really keep me sane. every moment is another tick of time closer to the end of whatever the hell it is, but there's just too much of it going for too long.
honestly, i wish i could just be so busy, with so much to spend my time doing that there quite simply wasn't enough time for it at all. but here for me, there's too much time. it seems too long to wait before summer. it seems too long to wait to visit kincardine. it seems too long to wait for the shit to build up to a breaking point so that i can finally snap and kill myself with some semblance of understandable reason. every minute is another 60 ticks of my watch too many, that i'd rather just not be able to see. after all, who really wants to count the seconds up to inevitable failure?
nothing is going to change. and if it does, it certainly won't be due to me. how many times have i told myself to gain the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, and the strength to change the things i can? well there's nothing in my life that i can change for the better.
i can't change my looks or my face or my family. i can't change my school or the people i know. i can't change my feelings or the torrential downpour of tears i shouldn't have to shed that comes witht hem. i can't change how other people think of me, and no matter how hard i try, i can't change the way they act. i can't change my personality and i can't change my brain. i can't make myself smarter or prettier or funnier or anything. i literally cannot change a damn thing in my life.
so then, if it is no use moping over the things you cannot change.. what should i do then? there is only one thing in my life that is available for me to have even the remotest of effects on - and that is that i'm living that life.
there's too much time for me here. there's tomorrow and then a week and then a month and then a year and then a decade, and more and more and more. but i quite simply do not want to be here that long. it's too much time for me to deal with all of this; too much time and pressure and burden and fucking misery for me to be able to put up with it any longer.
i can't go a day without crying anymore; it's like all that i have in my life is just a reminder of how fucking wrong everything really is. i can't even look at one of my so-called 'best friends' anymore without quite simply wanting to stab myself in the fucking throat. nothing makes me happy, and nothing fixes any of this.
in the past few weeks, we've raised one of my meds from 25 mg to 150 mg, because in all sincerity i'd have ended up killing myself if we didn't. but these fucking antidepressants or mood stabilizers or whatever the fuck they're trying to be - they don't work. they don't help. they only make things easier to ignore temporarily, before they inevitably build up.. but then there's an even bigger explosion than before.
somehow it seems that things aren't even 'building up' persay.. they're piling on, and parts and specks and drips and tiny little rivulets of the things i can't change keep slipping out the cracks like water from a needle-popped balloon, dripping all over my life and covering it and cascading over it and leaving me with little more than an unnerving lack of control and disconcerting sense of helplessness. everything has built up so much now that i can't even let it all go - like some of it has stayed at the bottom too long, been pressed by the weight of other things, and packed down like wet sand to a firmly-molded beach castle. it seems to have hardened and molded itself there, clinging to my insides and not letting go for any god damned reason. and it quite simply just.. won't come out. i can't express myself. i can't talk about things. all i can do is run and hide and mutter and curl up in the fucking fetal position in the middle of my bedroom floor, crying silently to myself and wishing it would all just fucking end or so help me god i'd end it myself.
but i can't end it; i can't fucking end it. i'd chicken out at the last second, like always. i'd get dragged to the hospital and be stuck in the psych ward with drug addicts and hopelessly lanky anorexics, expected to talk and get better and do anything more than just fake my way through shoddily-thrown-together therapy and pretentious group discussions.
more than that, i can't do that to my parents and my friends back home. it's too much pressure on them; too much of a burden when they quite simply don't have room on their back for any more fucking stress. i can't kill myself; i can't even try. all i can do is sit hopelessly, curl into a ball and sob into my own skin, leaving a trail of bleeding mascara and eyeliner down my salt-ridden cheeks as some sort of hideous reminder of the watercolor-dripping expressions going on in my brain.
i'm so fucking sick, and i'm so tired. more than that, i'm tired of being sick.. and quite simply sick of being tired. i'm not eating enough to sustain my health, but at the same time, i'm gaining weight because of all my stress. i'm running out of reasons to get up in the morning and tactics for smiles to fake, as well as the will to even get dressed in something even bordering on presentable.
i've stopped putting so much makeup on in the morning - i miss decorating my eyes with swirls of blended color and being able to disguise flaws with utter professional precision, but what can i do? not only am i too tired to put more than a burnt calorie's effort into maintaining my appearance, but i know that since i seem to be crying every day now i can't put eyeliner on without crying it all into a gross abstract mess of black and purple on my face within half an hour of arriving at the torture chamber known as A.B. Lucas Secondary.
to put it quite honestly, I look like shit: the bags under my eyes keep getting bigger and darker, and my hair has lost its smoothness and sheen. my skin is becoming dry and cracked and blistered, but i can't be assed to take care of it. my nails are sharp and brittle and broken, but i quite simply don't care enough to file the edges. even my eyes have lost their saturation, choosing instead to present a sort of numbing dullness. everything about my appearance is falling apart, which i suppose is appropriate because everything else in my life is too.
i'm sick as hell; my immune system isn't as good as it was before and i'm catching colds and developing sore throats. my muscles are always in too much pain to work properly - it hurts to stand now, and no matter how much i try to avoid it, there's quite a bit of standing going on in everyday life. my stomach doesn't digest things properly and i'm always left feeling awful after i eat, which i assume (along with the veritable mountain of stress) could be the cause of me eating so little lately.
i can't even fucking pretend to be happy anymore. i'm just too tired of it. smiling seems like an insurmountable amount of work, and laughing seems to take more and more effort just to be able to push half a meager guffaw out my mouth. it's hard to even lift my eyelids anymore; i constantly look zoned-out and half asleep because i quite frankly cannot look or be excited about anything anymore.
the only thing that gives me the slightest bit of joy anymore is seeing my friends from home, and even that is short lived, what with the ever-dawning realization that hey.. this isn't forever. you're going to leave them, you're going to go back to london, you're going to cry yourself to sleep and you're going to live the same perfect depiction of burning hell that you've been living for the past four months. nothing and no one is going to change it, and you're just going to keep spiralling downward into a hole of utter shit and piss and hatred and sadness until you either kill yourself or die of misery. perfect.
i don't even know what to write anymore..
i need to go redo my makeup.
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| i'm sorry. |
[05/20/08 @ 9:41pm] |
so i've come to the conclusion that
indeed,
there is no hope for me.
one of these days,
this will be too much for me to bear.
and although i know no one is reading this anyway,
i apologize to all the people who ever will,
the people who know me,
& the people who i wish cared enough to read this..
or even ask how i was.
one of these days, it's undoubtable that i'll end up killing myself.
planned or on a whim;
expected or surprising;
i know it will be done.
and i'm sorry in advance.
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| so uhm yeah. |
[05/20/08 @ 9:16pm] |
so i'm really starting to question whether things will ever get better.
fact is, i'm exhausted. completely and utterly exhausted.
it's not an "i need more sleep" thing.. i'm just so done, you know? living just takes so much out of me. i spend every day living obscured beneath the facade of continuous happiness - or at the very least, contentment - while that same aforementioned mask i don is tearing me apart on the inside.
it takes so much to keep smiling day after day.. it takes even more to not break down into tears at any given time. if i knew how to fix this, i would.. but i'm just running out of options.
it hurts that life likes to trick me: lets me have a good thing happen, a moment of fleeting confidence.. only to tear back down the fragile structure of self-esteem and contentment I thought I had.
i'm so tired of having a seemingly good day, then having something fucking shitty happen. actually, it's not so much of a happening as it is an awareness, a vivid sense of reality that i'm fucking worthless and all is above me.
everything is another brutal reminder, even small, seemingly insignificant things. something as simple as a compliment to another person could drive me over the edge if i've been trying to get on good terms with the person who gave it.. it's not that i'm jealous; this goes far beyond jealousy. it's simply that i am so sick and fucking tired of everything in my life reminding me how utterly worthless i am. how ugly, how stupid, how useless, how unliked i am.. how meaningless my very existence is.
i'm well aware that i have nothing to offer anyone: i'm not pretty, i'm not funny, i'm not smart, i'm not even worth anyone's time. and there's nothing i can do to change it. what the hell is wrong with me?
it's so hard to know how fucking useless you are to the world, and not have the motivation to continue living.. but i have no motivation left for anything anymore. i don't have the will to live, but i don't have the motivation to just get up and off myself. but that's all i really want to do anymore, is die.
i hate it here.
i hate it so fucking much.
i'm starting to wonder how long it takes before i inevitably kill myself..
maybe i could get people to place bets.
=\.
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| ... |
[05/11/08 @ 12:07am] |
i don't really have much to say.
well, that's not true.. i guess i just can't type it.
why is it that the people who supposedly want to "help" you only make you feel worse?
happy mother's day, family.
i hope it was fucking worth it to make me want to die more than ever. :)
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| I can't fix this. |
[05/08/08 @ 6:22pm] |
Why is it that no matter what I do, people automatically take a bad opinion of me?
Everyone at Lucas is getting angry with me because I don't talk to them anymore.. I don't show up in between clases or during lunch to talk to them.
Sorry, but what fucking reason do I have to talk to any of you?
They have all treated me like absolute SHIT for months. Fucking months.
If I don't talk to them, I'm a bitch.
If I'm friendly to them, I'm a lying bitch.
If I stick up for myself when they treat me badly, I'm a gigantic bitch.
If I try to work things out with them, oh my fucking god I'm a criminal bitch.
Sorry if people are mad that I'm not talking to them, but I'm kind of running out of options here.. seriously.
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| and.. |
[05/06/08 @ 11:12pm] |
i don't really know what to say anymore. honestly, i don't. what can i say that hasn't already been said? what can i do that hasn't already been done? what can i try that i haven't already tried a countless number of times before?
it's gotten to the point where i think i'm quite surely beyond hope. my mom keeps telling me everything will get better. but she's said repetitively for a decade, and you know what? it never does.
it's getting harder to believe people now when they tell me it's alright, or that they care for me, or that they love me, or that i can talk to them about things. because the truth, is, i can't. i can't talk to them any more than i can talk to a stranger, because that's just what they are to me: strangers.
i know them, of course. i know there problems, i know their feelings, i know dumb shit like their favorite bands. i know people inside out. but the fact is simply that none of them know me.. none really know me at all. sure, they've talked to me, maybe hung out. of course, they're aware of the sexually-based jokes i make, and that i act creepy to amuse myself, and maybe that i think babies are annoying. but that is honestly the long and short of the things they know about me.
i've spent years building wall after wall after wall, facade after brutally-beaten facade. i might be cheerful, i might be cynical, i might be nice, i might be a bitch. but i've become so fucking fake that even i don't know who i am anymore.. and unlike weepy emo kids with no real problems, i mean that with the utmost sincerity.
who am i, really? i suppose 'sherri' would be the simplest answer. but that doesn't say who i am, that only tells my name. i'm sherri, i have hair bleached to sunshine yellow and a manly jaw. i have a fat nose and small boobs, thick lips and a black girl's ass. i dress in bright colors and more often than not, i'd rather listen to music than socialize with people. sure, that's all well and good. anyone can see those things; anyone can know them. but that's not who i am, that's what i look like. i think i've gotten so far into this spiral of depression that i don't look at myself as a who anymore - i'm a what. i'm not a unique, individual person with strengths and talents and special characteristics. i look in the mirror in the morning and i can't even see emotion in my own eyes anymore. i'm an always-walking, rarely-talking shell of something. i don't know what the hell is inside me anymore.
i can't be happy anymore. i quite literally can not. i try to be cheerful, i try to be nice to people. but it seems every time i talk to someone, i just get broken down or insulted or hurt more. everything makes me upset; i can't be around anyone without stressing about my own flaws or how about nobody i'm talking to likes me, or what the fuck ever.
on one hand, i'm sitting here wondering why people treat me the way they do. i didn't do anything to them, did i? i'm not a mean person. i didn't insult them or punch them out or anything. so what's with the way i'm treated? and yet, on the other hand..
so many people treat me like an expendable lifeform; someone who could disappear off the face of the earth and quite frankly, no one would notice or care. it doesn't matter what i do or how nice i am to people, how much i help them or how many hugs i give, nothing's changing. i'm still shit in their eyes. so what's the point? and if all these people seem to think the same thing, am i just missing something? do the words i say have a different connotation than i think? do they see something different than what i see when i look in the mirror?
either way.. i don't want to live. i don't want to have to go through this. i don't want to have to deal with people. i don't want to have to deal with my family or the people at school. i don't want to have to come home after a bad day knowing there's no one i can talk to to make it better, or at the very least ease the pain. but it goes beyond not wanting to live: i don't just not want to live.. i don't think i deserve to.
there must be something wrong with me, right? something everybody else sees that i just don't. it's been like this my whole life.. day after day, year after year.. more people i try and fail with, more people to hurt me and break down any shred of confidence i worked my ass off to build up. my whole life, i've been absolute shit. it hasn't gotten better at all, only gone downhill to the point that, metaphorically speaking, it's fucking underground. so why should i expect things to change? there's obviously something wrong with me: some horrible deformity, some freakish characteristic that makes me awful and horrible and just plain detestable and no one likes it or wants it in their lives. i don't want it in my life.. but it is my life.
i don't know how to talk about this with people; i don't even know how to talk about it here. i feel like i'm not putting this as accurately as i should, but i can't put it any better than i'm doing now. there aren't enough words in the english language for me to find some that could accurately describe the way i feel. there isn't a damn song lyric, a poem, a story, some random scrap of literature that could describe what goes on in my mind at all. they can put every symptom of depression as messily as they could, scrawled like a drunken blind man and stained with blood and shit, but it still wouldn't represent it. i don't know how to describe it; i just feel so fucking awful.
the worst part is that nobody cares, or even notices. it's like everybody sees me, but nobody really looks. nobody bothers to notice that i don't smile anymore. nobody who i talk to at school has noticed that i've barely laughed in weeks. nobody notices that i walk away in the middle of them having a conversation, because it's not like they were talking to me anyway. and if i try even slightly to make it known, like telling them i've had a shitty day or that something they said hurt my feelings, i don't get much more than a casual snub or a dismissive "it happens."
but how does nobody notice this difference? i went from cheerful and bouncy and smiling and god knows what else to simply.. nothing. i barely talk anymore; i barely look at people. i only just recently started actually showing that i was upset if somebody made me upset.. not because i wanted to or because i'm trying to get attention, but simply because i don't have the energy left in me to try and fake it.
i know i'm worthless; i'm well aware. i know i'm stupid and ugly and annoying and useful for exactly jack-fuck-all, but at the same time.. does nobody care what it is i'm going through? has nobody stopped and stepped back to think "gee, maybe the things we say are hurting her"? do they notice? how can they not? and if they do.. why don't they care?
i've never felt so depressed in my entire life, honestly.. i can say that sincerely. the difference is that i'm internalizing everything.. i don't shout at people anymore. i don't scream and cry and blast loud music. i don't talk about my problems. i don't run to people and bawl when someone's been a jerk.. i just tough it up, put on a brave face, and keep on truckin' through my problems. but keeping thick skin on the outside is breaking me down inside.. every shred of energy i have is used to keep myself going, keep myself looking like i'm okay. but i just run out of steam. i'm not okay on the outside anymore, and on the inside i'm just.. gone. i'm so fucking gone.
i just.. don't want to be here anymore. i don't. i just want to let go. i want an instantaneous and painless way of saying goodbye to life and just wiping myself from this fucking earth. i don't want to say goodbye to my family or friends, or let anything they say affect it or slow it down. i don't want to write a suicide note, i don't want to call them to tell them i love them before i go. i just want it all fucking done and overwith.
i don't know what to do anymore.
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