KarmicRain
Member
- Mar 27, 2023
- 62
"I am sorry"
i wish an apology meant something. I wish it could do something, but it can't.
I'm recalling the last time I tried to ctb and I can hear and feel my mother yelling at me.
it was better then suprisingly. 10th grade, I skipped school and went to the roof of the condo: it was a 20 story building.
I still vividly remember the view of the ground when I sat outside the window. there was a mid sized park and a bunch of gray flag buildings surrounding it, the horizon lines with hundreds of them.
That feeling of Tranquility is something I've never felt a second time. I don't think I've ever felt as close to peace as I did a foot away from the end.
My parents got a call from the school and were told I never showed up so they found me on the top floor. After scolding me they let me skip for a few days. Those days were mundane but most of them I got to myself.
I spent a lot of the time secretly buying drinks by myself at night and drinking until I pass out in my room. Somehow my parents never found out or at least acted like it.
One of those days my mother relentlessly dragged me out of the room to walk around outside. I hated it. I hated it so much, but I didn't say anything. actually that's wrong I probably complained a lot while my parents bought food. I told them how much I hated being outside when we got back and it hurt her.
I was mentally unstable and seeing me try to ctb made her unstable. I hated myself but I don't hate my parents. so I tried to be better. I tried so hard like my life depended on it to be better.
I started paying attention in class and exercising every day, hell I cut my long hair like some coming of age story heroine just to try and unfuck myself for them.
god i tried, I got stronger, lost weight, and fixed my grades.
this continued through 11th grade where I picked AP classes and a hard af club: speech and debate. I think I got all A's that year but I quit club. I just wasn't cut out for longwinded arguments since I wasn't persuasive while talking fast and sluring my words.
12th grade was covid: I missed SAT's and just did schooling online. pretty sure I got mostly A's I don't really remember, all I can say is that that year was a blur.
then I went to college. first semesters I was doing well: socializing, going to the gym, getting decent grades, but then some of the classes in the 2nd semester turned virtual only. and then I paid attention less, relied on people more, and didn't do as well. the following semester, classes were back in person but I just didn't go, hell I stopped attending the zoom meetings. I slept in bed 24+ hrs a day. I burnt the fuck out trying to be something I wasn't. I relapsed a depressive episode because I couldn't just get a grip and do classes like a functional human being. so I failed them.
so, in a desperate attempt to grasp reality again, "I ran away" from college, that meaning I just failed out. failed out and joined the military because tf else was I going to do? I knew damn well I wasn't mentally stable enough to hold a job so I picked one that wouldn't let me out. ha ha.
I did this to myself. I'm here because I'm not capable of getting myself to do anything unless the consequences are so dire there isn't a choice.
that's why I am where I am today. I regret a lot of things, but somehow now matter how much time has passed, the only thing i regret most is not dying when I had the chance.
it never got better, the amount of work consistently constantly increased as time passed and now I'm here. I'm handling it well if well means my limbs are functional. I'm functional because I get up and work everyday. everyday at work I try my damn hardest but my head isn't ever able to just be completely there.
because the only thoughts I ever have when I do think are those of ctb.
its been this way since around 7th grade?
funny since that's when I figured my life out, planning everything from start to finish.
school->college->work as a programmer of some kind ideally in the video game industry-> probably have a family and die.
super normie life. sounds fine, hell it still sounds doable BUT
Even though I told myself I'd wanted that I never did. I never wanted anything but when I told that to my parents they threw back to me every basic human necessity I was "given" and of course every hobby I had so
I lost interest in all of my hobbies. they are a means to pass time in my unending struggle of living.
i don't blame them, I care about them.
they're the "rational" reason I live, of course instinctually I'm just afraid of pain.
I have to get up for an acft in 5 hrs. I'm so tired but I'm so, so scared of waking up in the morning. for years I've utterly despised the passage of time because waking up always meant I had work to do or am closer to having more work to do, god I'm so lazy it hurts. like stress headaches hurt and sleep deprivation knowing damn well I got shit to do makes working so much worse.
i can't fucking take it, I breakdown so often but I still always go to work.
it's supposed to get better but throughout all the work I've tried to put in my life, I've only ever found it getting worse. the workload stacks ceaselessly and the grind is endless.
I want to sleep but I don't want to sleep because I don't want to wake up.
I know how this song and dance goes already. i breakdown, go to sleep for the few hours I have left, wake up, go to work feeling like shit, doomscroll on breaks, and finally either doom scroll or breakdown and the cycle repeats.
i fucking can't, but I've felt this way for years so I know I'll continue anyway. my mind isn't broken and I'm not mentally ill in the slightest, otherwise I'd have reason to stop working. I don't. I never have.
it isn't getting better and I'm going insane but I can't plead insanity because I'm perfectly sane.
I'm just so fucking tired
i wish an apology meant something. I wish it could do something, but it can't.
I'm recalling the last time I tried to ctb and I can hear and feel my mother yelling at me.
it was better then suprisingly. 10th grade, I skipped school and went to the roof of the condo: it was a 20 story building.
I still vividly remember the view of the ground when I sat outside the window. there was a mid sized park and a bunch of gray flag buildings surrounding it, the horizon lines with hundreds of them.
That feeling of Tranquility is something I've never felt a second time. I don't think I've ever felt as close to peace as I did a foot away from the end.
My parents got a call from the school and were told I never showed up so they found me on the top floor. After scolding me they let me skip for a few days. Those days were mundane but most of them I got to myself.
I spent a lot of the time secretly buying drinks by myself at night and drinking until I pass out in my room. Somehow my parents never found out or at least acted like it.
One of those days my mother relentlessly dragged me out of the room to walk around outside. I hated it. I hated it so much, but I didn't say anything. actually that's wrong I probably complained a lot while my parents bought food. I told them how much I hated being outside when we got back and it hurt her.
I was mentally unstable and seeing me try to ctb made her unstable. I hated myself but I don't hate my parents. so I tried to be better. I tried so hard like my life depended on it to be better.
I started paying attention in class and exercising every day, hell I cut my long hair like some coming of age story heroine just to try and unfuck myself for them.
god i tried, I got stronger, lost weight, and fixed my grades.
this continued through 11th grade where I picked AP classes and a hard af club: speech and debate. I think I got all A's that year but I quit club. I just wasn't cut out for longwinded arguments since I wasn't persuasive while talking fast and sluring my words.
12th grade was covid: I missed SAT's and just did schooling online. pretty sure I got mostly A's I don't really remember, all I can say is that that year was a blur.
then I went to college. first semesters I was doing well: socializing, going to the gym, getting decent grades, but then some of the classes in the 2nd semester turned virtual only. and then I paid attention less, relied on people more, and didn't do as well. the following semester, classes were back in person but I just didn't go, hell I stopped attending the zoom meetings. I slept in bed 24+ hrs a day. I burnt the fuck out trying to be something I wasn't. I relapsed a depressive episode because I couldn't just get a grip and do classes like a functional human being. so I failed them.
so, in a desperate attempt to grasp reality again, "I ran away" from college, that meaning I just failed out. failed out and joined the military because tf else was I going to do? I knew damn well I wasn't mentally stable enough to hold a job so I picked one that wouldn't let me out. ha ha.
I did this to myself. I'm here because I'm not capable of getting myself to do anything unless the consequences are so dire there isn't a choice.
that's why I am where I am today. I regret a lot of things, but somehow now matter how much time has passed, the only thing i regret most is not dying when I had the chance.
it never got better, the amount of work consistently constantly increased as time passed and now I'm here. I'm handling it well if well means my limbs are functional. I'm functional because I get up and work everyday. everyday at work I try my damn hardest but my head isn't ever able to just be completely there.
because the only thoughts I ever have when I do think are those of ctb.
its been this way since around 7th grade?
funny since that's when I figured my life out, planning everything from start to finish.
school->college->work as a programmer of some kind ideally in the video game industry-> probably have a family and die.
super normie life. sounds fine, hell it still sounds doable BUT
Even though I told myself I'd wanted that I never did. I never wanted anything but when I told that to my parents they threw back to me every basic human necessity I was "given" and of course every hobby I had so
I lost interest in all of my hobbies. they are a means to pass time in my unending struggle of living.
i don't blame them, I care about them.
they're the "rational" reason I live, of course instinctually I'm just afraid of pain.
I have to get up for an acft in 5 hrs. I'm so tired but I'm so, so scared of waking up in the morning. for years I've utterly despised the passage of time because waking up always meant I had work to do or am closer to having more work to do, god I'm so lazy it hurts. like stress headaches hurt and sleep deprivation knowing damn well I got shit to do makes working so much worse.
i can't fucking take it, I breakdown so often but I still always go to work.
it's supposed to get better but throughout all the work I've tried to put in my life, I've only ever found it getting worse. the workload stacks ceaselessly and the grind is endless.
I want to sleep but I don't want to sleep because I don't want to wake up.
I know how this song and dance goes already. i breakdown, go to sleep for the few hours I have left, wake up, go to work feeling like shit, doomscroll on breaks, and finally either doom scroll or breakdown and the cycle repeats.
i fucking can't, but I've felt this way for years so I know I'll continue anyway. my mind isn't broken and I'm not mentally ill in the slightest, otherwise I'd have reason to stop working. I don't. I never have.
it isn't getting better and I'm going insane but I can't plead insanity because I'm perfectly sane.
I'm just so fucking tired
