(no subject)
Good lord it's been seven years since I've even looked at this thing. Everyone is gone, how sad. All of my good friends back in the day have removed me for being a shitty person and disappearing haha. Oh well.
Almost all of them don't post anymore anyways but I still feel bad about it. Half of me says it's not your fault, you were/are mentally ill, you left so you wouldn't hurt them even more. The lesser of two evils. The other half says you should have done better.
I still miss them. I miss what we had. I miss what we still could have.
Imagine the fandom things we could be up to now days. We were always so great at bouncing ideas around.
Imagine the things that have happened in our lives we weren't there to support each other through.
It makes me sad and angry with myself.
Most everyone is gone though, very few have updated, and it would feel a bit awkward to contact them again. Especially with how I left. Though I have contacted a few and apologized, not to clear my conscious but because it was the right thing to do. I don't feel like I'm worthy to pick those threads back up and continue on. I threw it away for a world that, as it turned out, brought me nothing but sadness.
When I was younger people told me "you shouldn't spend so much time on the internet, get out and find real friends". And as I tried to recover I tried to find those friends. Make those connections.
I've never had friends since like I had with livejournal.
I had hoped I would find them eventually in the real world. I was wrong.
Now I can't even find them on the internet.
I've recovered some since the point where I disappeared from everyone's lives. I still think about suicide nearly every day but I don't self harm anymore. That's some sort of progress.
It was my 31st birthday two weeks ago. When I left I was 24 and in the darkest point of my life. So much has changed but one thing has stayed the same.
Depression is the one who sticks by you. Even when you want them to go. Those voices in your head that tell you you're not good enough, you should just kill yourself, you poison everything around you, leave before you take them down with you. My one constant companion.
I like to think I'm in a better place now. I don't really know. You can't insulate yourself from the sadness without doing the same to the happiness. You just end up feeling nothing at all. I don't know if I'm better because I just don't feel anything anymore or if I'm actually improved.
I'm trying to love someone now. He's a good man and he takes care of me. But it's hard to connect when you're numb. I look at him and wonder if he takes care of me out of love or just pity. Does he keep me around because I have no place to go? A constant paranoia of "Don't tell him who you really are or the already thin ice will break". Even though he's never shown the ice is thin.
There's a voice who says that's the illness talking. But when there's so many voices how do you know which one speaks the truth?
Do I stay in bed all day because I'm actually ill or am I just as everyone thinks : lazy and useless. Do they even think that at all?
Am I even ill or is that all in my head?
Mental illness has ruined my life. It's taken everything from me and I will never get it back. I have no more hopes. No more dreams. No more future. My life is spent on the day to day. Getting by in a blur of self hate in an echo chamber.
To the few I have in my life I can't speak of my thoughts. I'm so afraid if I do they will leave. After all nobody wants to be around a person who is always sad. You fracture yourself into two people. The one who can pass in this world and the one who can't. The one who is crippled by anxiety and sadness and the one who can hold down a part time job once in awhile.
People tell you they care but when all you do is "complain" they turn their backs on you. Nobody wants to hear what you have to say when all you have to say is "I'm depressed and I wish I was dead because there is nothing left for me in this world."
It wears them down. Then they go.
And you're left knowing the problem isn't them, it's me. I'm just not the kind of person people want to be around.
Is that okay? Can I live the rest of my life like this?
I suppose I'll have to. At this age I doubt anything will ever get better.
I'll never have the things I wanted for myself. A good job, friends to spend time with, a good body, a healthy mind.
They seem like simple things but they're somehow the hardest to find.
And as time goes by of those two pieces of yourself you fractured one becomes weaker. And it's never the one you wish it was.
Why is the part of you that is broken stronger?
But enough rambling I suppose. I'm still here, if anyone ever goes looking. My tumblr is here if you would rather message me privately.
I'm sorry if I caused anyone any pain by disappearing. I know some of us were very close. I truly am sorry and I will be for the rest of my life.
Almost all of them don't post anymore anyways but I still feel bad about it. Half of me says it's not your fault, you were/are mentally ill, you left so you wouldn't hurt them even more. The lesser of two evils. The other half says you should have done better.
I still miss them. I miss what we had. I miss what we still could have.
Imagine the fandom things we could be up to now days. We were always so great at bouncing ideas around.
Imagine the things that have happened in our lives we weren't there to support each other through.
It makes me sad and angry with myself.
Most everyone is gone though, very few have updated, and it would feel a bit awkward to contact them again. Especially with how I left. Though I have contacted a few and apologized, not to clear my conscious but because it was the right thing to do. I don't feel like I'm worthy to pick those threads back up and continue on. I threw it away for a world that, as it turned out, brought me nothing but sadness.
When I was younger people told me "you shouldn't spend so much time on the internet, get out and find real friends". And as I tried to recover I tried to find those friends. Make those connections.
I've never had friends since like I had with livejournal.
I had hoped I would find them eventually in the real world. I was wrong.
Now I can't even find them on the internet.
I've recovered some since the point where I disappeared from everyone's lives. I still think about suicide nearly every day but I don't self harm anymore. That's some sort of progress.
It was my 31st birthday two weeks ago. When I left I was 24 and in the darkest point of my life. So much has changed but one thing has stayed the same.
Depression is the one who sticks by you. Even when you want them to go. Those voices in your head that tell you you're not good enough, you should just kill yourself, you poison everything around you, leave before you take them down with you. My one constant companion.
I like to think I'm in a better place now. I don't really know. You can't insulate yourself from the sadness without doing the same to the happiness. You just end up feeling nothing at all. I don't know if I'm better because I just don't feel anything anymore or if I'm actually improved.
I'm trying to love someone now. He's a good man and he takes care of me. But it's hard to connect when you're numb. I look at him and wonder if he takes care of me out of love or just pity. Does he keep me around because I have no place to go? A constant paranoia of "Don't tell him who you really are or the already thin ice will break". Even though he's never shown the ice is thin.
There's a voice who says that's the illness talking. But when there's so many voices how do you know which one speaks the truth?
Do I stay in bed all day because I'm actually ill or am I just as everyone thinks : lazy and useless. Do they even think that at all?
Am I even ill or is that all in my head?
Mental illness has ruined my life. It's taken everything from me and I will never get it back. I have no more hopes. No more dreams. No more future. My life is spent on the day to day. Getting by in a blur of self hate in an echo chamber.
To the few I have in my life I can't speak of my thoughts. I'm so afraid if I do they will leave. After all nobody wants to be around a person who is always sad. You fracture yourself into two people. The one who can pass in this world and the one who can't. The one who is crippled by anxiety and sadness and the one who can hold down a part time job once in awhile.
People tell you they care but when all you do is "complain" they turn their backs on you. Nobody wants to hear what you have to say when all you have to say is "I'm depressed and I wish I was dead because there is nothing left for me in this world."
It wears them down. Then they go.
And you're left knowing the problem isn't them, it's me. I'm just not the kind of person people want to be around.
Is that okay? Can I live the rest of my life like this?
I suppose I'll have to. At this age I doubt anything will ever get better.
I'll never have the things I wanted for myself. A good job, friends to spend time with, a good body, a healthy mind.
They seem like simple things but they're somehow the hardest to find.
And as time goes by of those two pieces of yourself you fractured one becomes weaker. And it's never the one you wish it was.
Why is the part of you that is broken stronger?
But enough rambling I suppose. I'm still here, if anyone ever goes looking. My tumblr is here if you would rather message me privately.
I'm sorry if I caused anyone any pain by disappearing. I know some of us were very close. I truly am sorry and I will be for the rest of my life.