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glorifiedbones · 8 months

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i never thought looking back and reading my own diary/posts would make me so upset. on one hand i’m technically in a better place, physically and even mentally. but i still can’t hemp with resonate with so many of these old feelings. i see that yes i’m technically in a better place and yet at the same time i feel even worse.

i was younger than, and it might have only been a few years but things aren’t getting any better or easier. i’m still unmedicated, i still have no doctors, i still haven’t been to see a doctor. i try to look on the bright side of things of at least thing time i had an appointment made, it’s jus the guy fucking quit and didn’t say anything to us! so we showed up to the building and the receptionist was so apologetic. and like yeah you can be sorry all you want but i’m still shit out of luck!

i’m running out of time. soon i wont have insurance, i don’t have a job but the pressure of needing to be in a further position in my life is growing. i still can’t drive i still have no education.

lately my depression has been getting worse in a way i haven’t had to experience before. because i’ve had so many good days lately i feel so ungrateful when i have my bad ones, i should just appreciate the good i have. but i can’t when my good vs bad days aren’t just like sucky vs not so great because now it’s quite happy vs i’m on the verge of killing myself right this second.

sometimes i wonder why i haven’t yet. i tried twice as a kid, teen, whatever. i promise myself for two years i would on my eighteenth birthday and instead i made grilled cheese, cold tomato soup, and had a fruit cup and watched selling sunset while i cried. my mom was states away with my abuser and i guess now that i’m older i can recognize she was abusing me too just in a different way. and still i feel wrong for feeling that way because everyone tells you mental abuse isn’t real and yet it so incredibly is.

but when i turned eighteen i just… i didn’t. and than i turned nineteen and i barely remember anything about it and than i turned twenty and all i can remember is being sad and lonely and now i’m twenty one. i’m in a new state with good people around me who care. i have better days, more frequently as well.

all in all it’s much better and i should be grateful and i am and yet i still feel this way. i still feel this awful pit in my stomach and i still cry ugly and violently. i still think about wanting to hurt other people and things and myself and i even had such a bad mental breakdown that i cut all my hair off.

it was so ugly i was so ugly and now i’m getting regular haircuts even because that’s the type of people i’m around now. they found out and went and did something to help me fix it. yet i’m just a drain on their resources, money endlessly bleeding out with no reward for them. no end goal in sight for me.

i want to be better i’m so tired of being sick. and i know it’s a disease because one second i can be content and the next i want to gouge my eyes out. that’s not normal, normal people aren’t depressed they aren’t sick they aren’t thinking the thoughts i think and they aren’t crying about their next actions.

they don’t think back to a time where they counted every calorie and starved for days on end and didn’t cut into their skin with a razor blade. i don’t do any of that anymore either, i’ve made so much progress. yet now all i can feel is fat and gross and wish i was cutting just so i would feel a different type of pain.

i miss being skinny and pretty because people liked me and i miss being bought things but now i don’t have a job so i can’t even buy myself things or if i do i feel so awful because i’m not supposed to because i haven’t worked in several years and i guess i should be grateful i haven’t worked because it was killing my physically and mentally and yet i’m not because all i hear everyday is about how poor we’re becoming and all i see online is about how poor everyone else is and the economy.

and what’s worse is before i moved in these people weren’t that poor. before when i lived with my mom we were and now that i moved out she’s doing much better and it’s awful because that means it was me all along. that’s not even like something i can claim is my overthinking like that’s just genuinely basic math. i take up space and resources and don’t give anything back. i don’t work i just take and take and take and i’m still left unsatisfied, i’m so ungrateful because i should be grateful for all of this yet i sit in this room lying on my bed and cry thinking about how i should just end it and why don’t i?

why don’t i? i keep asking myself. i used to come up with different reasons, milestones/goals. and than each one came and went and passed by. and i’m still here and still standing. there’s still so much i want to do and yet i want to go. i just want to sleep forever, for a lifetime, i want to start over. i want to be someone else, i want to be someone who’s not me.

maybe not necessarily someone who’s even rich or wealthy or has everything given to them. i just want to be someone who’s happy who doesn’t have the same worries i have. maybe someone who worries about what the vegetables will look like at the grocery store and hope the traffic won’t be so bad on their way to work and wondering what they’re going to eat for dinner that night and maybe if they should clean the toilet this week or the next. just a normal person. i want to be a normal happy person. someone who looks in the mirror and worries about their hair-part because they just woke up and have bed head rather than someone who leans on their elbows and pops every pimple they can or someone who doesn’t grab onto their skin and squeeze. someone who doesn’t think about their weight or think skin complexion or their hair and eye colour or teeth or the moles on my skin or the way they bite their fingernails so they resemble sausages instead of normal fingers.

all i can think about when i look at my nails are mickey and kalis grabbing my hands and laughing at them, sausage fingers. that i need to stop chewing them and they’re right. i need to stop. or how they looked at me and told me i gained weight and they were right i had gained weight. i used to be under one hundred pounds i��ve left myself go. and yet i’ve been eating great food lately and that makes me happy and all i can think about is how unhappy i was when i was under one hundred pounds because it didn’t matter how skinny or un-skinny i was, i never realized that my problems are in my head. like sure yeah i can conscious about how i look but now that i weigh so much i realize i was sick, am sick, about my weight and my body and none of it will ever be good enough because i inherently feel like i’m not good enough.

i’m tired. i’m so tired. i just want to wake up and be normal. i want to hug someone and love them and they can love me and i wont ever be ready for that type or relationship until i can be better but i don’t think i ever will be. it’s horrible to subject this to someone else so i wont but maybe it’s because now i couldn’t even get someone if i tried i feel so horrendously ugly and useless and it’s not like i even have any good qualities about myself to make up for my lack of looks. no money no personality i’m not funny (in fact my humour is so bad an dry it’s pathetic and it’s only gotten worse especially this past year which leads to some interesting conversations) at best i have a U.S. citizenship but we aren’t even that good for green cards now? the fact i’ve even thought about that is like a new low to me but all i could think about is at least that person would be stuck with me for like seven to ten years. god i really am pathetic huh. whatever it’s just a fleeting thought not like it was that serious or anything.

it’s just that i read so many love stories i wonder if that could be a possibility for me and than i’m only reminded of why i can’t and fall into another existential crisis pit of all my shortcomings. i like to hope one day i’ll be better, i’ll be a better person, things take time. but i’ve almost been here for a year and i’ve made no progress, if any i’m ruining the others around me. i’m just a stain on this earth.

#august 17th 23 #tw depression #tw ed #tw relationships #tw abuse #tw self loathing #tw sh #tw sui ideation #tw sui #tw mental health

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glorifiedbones · 9 months

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thinking about kissing hours all i want to do to kiss someone right now feeling their lips on mine. like would they be chapped? smooth? ripped up? rough? scabbed over? would they use tongue or not like it? i hope they’d like it, i think i’d like it. i want to feel the wet hot heat of their mouth, to taste them on my tongue. i want to feel the way their teeth bend and curve in their mouth, i want to feel every ridge and the hardness of their gums. i want it to be rough and hard and also kind and gentle. i want you to bite me so hard i gasp against your mouth, it’s so hard you broke the skin and i’m bleeding and tears are welling up in my eyes, and yet you tongue over it and i can feel the biting sting as you try to soothe the pain and than we kiss gently for a little while until i can taste my blood in my own mouth and than it gets rough again. i want to curl my fingers in your hair or against your back, i want to press you against the wall and you can shove me back into the mattress and lay over me. i want to feel your hot breath against mine, i want to kiss you so bad that we’re breathless and panting and still chasing each other. i want to feel your moaning and i want it to be wet and desperate and there’s drool slipping down our chins but when we pull away for a moment to catch our breaths theres a line of spit between us. i want to see you grin at me before pouncing and i want to laugh against your lips and i want a lifetime of it.

i don’t even know who you are but i hope you’re out there. i hope there’s someone out there waiting for me. i hope you think about the same things i do, maybe with a more positive thought process. maybe you’re just as excited about it as i am. maybe you’re so excited that you actually believe. because even though i want and i yearn i find it so hard to believe that it could be a possibility for me. i’m tired of waiting for you so show up soon please, maybe it’s ungrateful of me to not want to wait but i’m desperate and i want every second i can have to spend it with you.

#august 17th 23 #tw kissing #tw blo0d #tw depression

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glorifiedbones · 1 year

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i feel so stressed for no reason at all i sit home and play games all day and dont really do any chores or do anything of substance at all and still i want to claw my skin off and have the pit sitting inside my stomach that swallows me whole from the inside out

i feel like i could rip my face off and although all you would see is my blood and bones it doesnt feel like my blood and bones just another skeleton lost in the sea of unforgiving and unforgettable regrets

i look back at my past and my memories haunt me, flashing mosaics that run in the pitch black of night not even illuminated by the moonlight. i feel like a shadow that is erased by something larger, therefore casting their own shadow over mine leaving mine in the rotting dust

the urge to feel the pinpricks as cold metal bites into my skin grows strong and yet i still find myself fighting back for what reason? i want to just let go, to feel the wind brushing past my face as i smile down at a crowd full of pedestrians and a city full of concrete that will be overgrown one day

still the pit in my stomach grows leaving a painful ache that doesnt go away instead it causes the bile to rise to the base of my throat and yet i cannot expel it leaving me to just writhe in torturous pain that i subconsciously inflict on myself when i repress my emotions

i listened to orchestras all over the world performing yesterday and the welled up tears could not spill because i could not let another piece of me escape or be exposes to the blinking eyes that gnaw on my limbs pinning my future in their pincers

all these people of ages; young, old, and somewhere in between and still i lay here wallowing pathetically in a future i crave and desire yet clearly do not desire enough as i still sit here and do nothing

in todays modern day and age it really is so easy to craft a desirable future whether you acquire it through means of luck, hard work, or find yourself indebted for the rest of your good years to a student loan you cannot quite pay back on the day of the month the bill is sent

itemized because every detail must be correct. but instead of listed neat rows of your charges you see the paths of my future that do not and will not cross.

there is no end in sight and yet i see it so clearly. i ache for the peacefulness of death. does it feel like when i am drowsy and drift off to a bitter sleep? will my skin be too raw and painful for me to find any release?

sometimes i picture my arms other times my throat and occasionally i picture throwing myself off the fourteenth floor of the cruise ship. bon voyage the passengers say as they wave goodbye to the homeland and say hello to masses that they do not know yet will soon explore. the promise of adventure is on the cusp of the hill, just right around the corner.

on my corner its just an empty block my vision is skewed and i long for the dreams that do not plague my mind. i long for the ones to put me into a deep sleep and cradle me into soft whispers that silence the calling of the void for just a little while longer

#december 18th 22

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glorifiedbones · 1 year

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i dont feel very unique. in fact i feel painfully similar to others in the world sometimes. like a defunct carbon copy; you can look at me and tell what is supposed to be me. and yet. and yet theres is something odd about me. primal in the sense that i am nothing but i still exist. i still get out of bed, use the toilet, have a mug of coffee in the mornings. i click on the tv and its the same program on all nine hundred channels, all the same show on each brand for the low low price of nine eighty two a month. only some still give you commercials and others offer you paid promotions for the starz network. you havent renewed your paramount plus subscription and i still drink out of that black and silver star trek mug thats at least sixteen years old. i bring it up to my lips and take a sip and the world is still the same. the rain will continue through its cycle of being re-weathered through the clouds that are more grey than usual, and i will still exist here laying in bed amongst my sheets and blankets and the phone screen i stare at for hours too long. “your average usage has gone up this week!” notification every time i slide my screen up. eighty seven hours all dedicated to the same three apps.

i am unique in the same sense that i am a different person but i look like everyone else does walking down the streets. i have the same hobbies and interests. i drink the same powdered coffee and drink from the same mug thousands of others have from a convention they bought years ago. i am the same age as millions of others and although i’ve never met someone with the shared birthdate as i, they surely exist. hundreds of babies born on the same day at the same time in the same year and i am not an exception.

i am different in the sense that i stare at my reflection in the mirror, and although that its not inherently different itself; its the thoughts that race through my mind that are. i think back to the cars two movie where mater is a spy and i stare at my reflection and my oily fingers wipe down the cheeks of my combination oily-dry skin. flakes stick to my towels and the hair of my scalp and my eyes look into the depths of the aluminum plated back of my mirror. i look the same every day. weary, tired, dejected.

i think about the way my body would look if i age a little less. used the stairs a bit more. did something more with my life. i dont do anything. i lie in bed and wallow for the person i could have been. i am pathetic in this reflection, i am pathetic in my own skin, and i am pathetic in the eyes of others. my friends, my family, the strangers that don’t even spare me a second glance. a tool to use or take advantage of to the ones that do.

i remember lying back on the concrete of my childhood home driveway. warm from the sun beating down on it all day. a cool breeze in my ear and against my clothed skin. the view is not different or unique. it is of a blue skin and branches with too few leaves hanging off of them. i close my eyes and rest and when i open them the greens of the leaves are blowing past with the wind.

i am not unique nor is this view. millions of others have this same memory. millions of others are not unique, so many of us are painfully alike. and yet they are different; they get up out of bed and do not wallow for the person they could have become. they get up and live their own grief and here i am.

watching the blades of the fan above be spin around. i am not unique, i am not special, i am not different, i am so alike everyone else that i am merely a shadow of a person i could have become. i killed them with my own finger tips and thoughts constricting them so tight until i am rung through like a wet cloth being rung of its water down the drain. swirling. i am swirling with the flow of every day. i wish for more but i will get nothing.

i will close my eyes, think of the past the future and the present. i will drink from that same glass and i will use the same creamer and i will continue to be the same. never changing never truly existing. i wonder if i am still alive or if i am truly meant to just be a husk of the person i could have been for the rest of my life.

if reincarnation is real, please pick someone else to do so. i wake up painfully and i wish i would just close my eyes for good. this is the same thought thousands of others have. even in my wallowing self pity i am still alike the others—i am not unique.

#december 3rd 2022

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glorifiedbones · 1 year

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i moved now and im so worried they wont like me. so far everything is okay but i guess im just waiting for the other shoe to drop. even though everything is okay i cant help but still feel so unsettled. i lay in this bed and look at my desk and stare at the ceiling and something isnt right. im not right. theres something wrong with me. this is wrong. i just want to eat cinnamon bagel. i hate using the bathroom they can hear me pee and it makes me so self conscious and i need to do my laundry but i feel so awkward and i want to shower. honestly i want to jerk off i keep thinking about just fisting my cock and thinking about my fictional characters fucking me and holy shit am i horny but than if i think too long about it i get depressed again and than i dont even want to do anything remotely of the sort. i check my online messages and feel so overwhelmed with needing to respond to people but even just a couple months ago i had triple the amount of people texting me its so weird how i could sort of handle that than but now i cant handle this.

i feel like i traded one miles for another. i dreaded talking to miles and feeling obligated to talk to them and part of me kept talking to them in case they gave me more money. its literally the exact same with this person too i dont want to talk to them quite frankly i want to block them. i feel like an awful person because at first i was so excited to talk to them but now we dont even really talk or chill or vibe or anything. they’re such a nuisance to me i get so uncomfortable around them. and i fucking despise when people keep deleting messages in the fashion they do, how do you demand and expect a conversation from me but fucking delete everything you day before you even give me the chance to reply? like holy shit thats so annoying YOURE so annoying. i felt such immense relief when i finally cut off miles and i didn’t even block him or un-add him i just told him i didn’t want to be friends any more and although he still kept messaging now he’s stopped and i dont even think about it most days. this guy just gosh he’s annoying. some people really dont have friends for a reason its clear as day.

i feel so frustrated and i hate not having a job. like i hate working but jesus not having money to spend is god awful and i already spent money i shouldn’t have. i havent worked in ages but i already spent 101$ and i need to stop. i need to control myself. worse because only 1 of those dollars went to me. gosh i want to scream. i feel so frustrated and i miss my cat. im so worried he wont get along with the other cats.

i want to chew my bails and hide under my bed and curl into a ball and i want to rip my skin and nails and hair off and i hate the way my body and skin feels. i hate looking down and seeing my stomach and chest and legs and arms and feet and hands and i hate looking in the mirror when im naked and seeing my thighs and back and ass and i just hate the way i look. im worried when i get another haircut it wont be good as this one now and im worried that one day ill make my family so upset they want to kick me out or demand i go back home and live with my mother.

i hate hugging that man and i dont want to see or hear or look at him again and i hate his lectures and his tones and inflections and seeing his stuff around the house and i dont like him i dont want to forgive him for what he did to me and i dont think i should have too and there are some days i think im over what happened and others its all i can think about and i feel so fucking dirty and disgusting and i wish he had hone away but instead i had to go away i always have to go away and be pushed to the sidelines and im waiting for the day that someone picks me and chooses me wholly first over someone else. i want to be the first pick.

i want to fall in love but i dont want to live long enough to let it happen because i swear to god im going to have to be thirty five or forty before i find someone whos interested in me and im not even twenty five yet. i hate living. i dont want to be here anymore. theres so much pressure to do things and even though i just sit and play games most of the time the pressure is caving in all around me. i wait for the other shoe to drop because eventually it will and all i can do is hope that im prepared for the day it slams down.

i need to be ready and im not. i dont think i could hold a job down even if i wanted to. i cant hold a relationship im so annoying and undesirable and not even in a self deprecating way in a i know that am i ugly? no but im not attractive im not cute or pretty or hot or handsome i just am average and normal and i exist.

i wish i could have lost my virginity to her. reddit girl. to be so close i could touch her skin and look in her eyes and her hair and feel her warmth. i always mess everything up. shes so pretty and shes my friend and im okay with being friends. im more than willing to accept being friends. but it doesn’t mean i dont wish some things turned out a different way. part of me makes it hopeful that if someone as beautiful and perfect as her could have been interested in me for a time makes me wonder if i have a chance at all. but than im reminded that even though im average and surround myself with desirable people that doesn’t mean im desirable. i should never make that mistake. i wont.

its one thing to be confident to think you could get everyone you were interested in. its another to recognize no matter how nice i dress or how much money i offer to shell out or how desperate i am for a real connection that im picky and wont settle for less than not what i deserve but what i want. no matter these things i wont see the light at the end of the tunnel. and i dont deserve these things, i desire them immensely. i want i want i want i want i want and i feel as if i always take but somehow i take the things i dont truly want.

i miss reddit girl and i miss mcdonalds girl and i miss tumblr girl and i miss discord boy and i miss i miss i miss i miss but i cant reach out in those ways and these people never wanted me the way i want them. i want marriage and happiness and perfect ending and i remember in ST how steve mentions wanting six little nuggets and although i dont want six kids i could picture myself living on a farm with my wife and two brats who get a southern drawl or midwestern farm accent because we live in the middle of nowhere and we have two cows and a white picket fence and a wrap around porch. i picture living in a city apartment and having out first kids and our first pet and cooking together in our small kitchen flat and the neighbor to our right is so fucking loud but every-time we hear them argue we press our heads to the walls to hear what they’re saying and giggle about it later with each other. i never picture myself growing old because i dont believe ill live that long, but than again i always picture killing myself when i was eighteen.

i didn’t make plans for anything because they all consistent of my family burying my corpse, maybe pouring out a glass for me on the first year but never again after that, my mom would argue about the bills of the funeral costs and maybe she would be sad for a little while but eventually shed get over it. they’d all get over it. im a forgettable person im not significant and im not a key family member i just exist and take up resources. i wish i succeeded when i was younger. when i was fifteen and sixteen. but i still managed to bungle that one up so i swore id slice my skin open and than i was sixteen when i tried for the first time and i dont know why i didn’t again after that.

it didn’t feel particularly bad and i remember how delicious the cut felt when it rubbed against my jean clad legs. i remember that year i wore a nice suit to my homecoming. the last homecoming. the last time i danced with a pretty bird. and maybe its selfish of me but i wish i had more time i wish i enjoyed the party more i wish i still talked to those people i wish i wish i wish i wish

i dont always wish i was dead anymore per say i just wish i didn’t exist. i hate the fact that i exist and still make all these mistakes and i hate that i dont know things and i hate that my future will either be my cold corpse or be me living to work until the day and i did and it wont even be at a cool place either itll be somewhere i hate that makes me stand on my feet all day and my body will be in constant pain twenty four seven but im scraping by already so i cant call off and i wont have friends and i wont have a wife ill live in a one bedroom apartment because im too broke to own a house and ill be lucky if i get my own washer and dryer in there and my bathroom sink will be slightly broken and i wont cry myself to sleep because i wont have the energy and i wont kill myself because ill keep telling myself it’ll get better one day it’ll get better one day it’ll get better one day but it wont not really ill work up until the day i die. ill be forty two with a mountain of debt, probably a manager at walmart because the target wouldn’t hire me, and ill think back to the time i was seventeen making a grilled cheese on my eighteenth birthday watching selling sunset all by myself and itll be the same only ill be forty two turning forty three and ill be an alcoholic neck beard because i wont have friends and all i do is work sleep and play games on my computer and pay bills and think about killing myself but too chicken shit because if i fail i wont have enough money to cover the cost of the medical bills

sometimes i think about gouging my eyes out and i wish i was interesting enough for a serial killer to take notice of me and put me out of my misery. i feel pathetic because my life isn’t even that bad! i have a good life. i just only seem to waste good opportunities. im never quite going to be good enough im just always going to exist painfully and regretfully and i really wish i would just slit my wrists and jump into a random body of water because if i dont bleed out to death ill drown because i dont know how to swim

you know i seriously considered killing myself again the other month. i really did think about grabbing a knife from the block and slitting my throat in the bathtub so it would be easier to clean and the only reason i didn’t was because my aunt had already out a deposit down on my birthday present and i would feel bad because it’d be too expensive and just a waste of money. i have to keep finding little things to keep myself alive over but its so exhausting. because whats next after this birthday present? i dont have things planned and i dont have friends and i dont have a job or money or a future. the only future i have is pathetic. im pathetic.

i hate that i wont actually just do it either. she just bought groceries and all i can think about is i can starve because because shed just have wasted 368$ on groceries so i have to eat them. i just want to cut my skin and i dont even think i have an excuse to not do it anymore i just have procrastinated it. part of me wants to gorge out on everything just so i can make sure it wasn’t a waste but i already didn’t finish eating that large Wendy’s french fry and i felt so get wrenchingly awful about it. i feel pathetic all i do all day is play games and thirst over fictional people and i wish id just grab myself by the balls and go do something about making the life i want to live a reality but i dont. i never end up doing anything right.

i feel like im just being dramatic at this point there are so much bigger issues in the world than mine. my minuscule ones that pale in comparison to the tragedies of the world but it fucking sucks because this is MY world this is the life i have to live with everyday and be okay with and deal with. i wish i had the drive and passion that i see others do on social media that sure struggling through this but ultimately work hard to get what they want and they dont stop until they do. in theory that could be me! i have the capabilities to do things! and yet i dont. i just sit here in this bed thinking ‘poor me’ and whining about how ‘im depressed’ and ‘no one likes me’ it’s so fucking annoying truly. i feel like i was more depressed when i was younger so how can i be now? and i hate pitying myself because i dont deserve it and i hate when i say no one likes me because people do like me but it feels more like they’re obligated to like me and not there because they genuinely want to be which is a whole other mind fuck but still. people talk to me. i have a few online friends. my family talk to me. maybe that’s it but still. but still. but still. but still i feel the way i do anyways.

im gonna go make a cinnamon bagel now i think

#november 29th 22

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glorifiedbones · 1 year

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i try to turn all my failed love into hatred i wish i would just let myself accept that people have their own ideas and futures and maybe im not always apart of that

i hate that i fall in love with anyone who gives me a sliver of attention. its so hard for me to tell what was real love and just platonic or strong affection for

i just wish i could like chill for two months and maybe i wont want to shoot myself anytime someone rejects my small advances. maybe i should try a bigger advancement? how big is the right amount and whats a creepy amount? although i suppose of they dont like me back even the tiniest amount it would still be creepy

i just want to exist and not hate that i exist for like a couple moments? is that so hard to ask for? maybe too big of an ask

im just so tired. like of it all but also physically right now my eyes are fucking burning i need sleep

#november 22nd 22

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glorifiedbones · 1 year

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i grieve for the life i could have had with you

i miss the sound of your voice late at night

i miss hearing your laugh

i miss hearing the way you would say my name, how it felt so big in other peoples mouths but when you said it, it felt so smooth

its weird now, hearing people say my name

i dont even go by it anymore, i use my middle name, and the thought didnt occur to me for a while but i think its because of you

i miss you so much

i wrote so many things to you and about you, in notebooks or in my notes app or here even

i made playlists to express the love i had for you and i called it by your name

i miss saying your name, or the nicknames only i called you

i think about them but i dont even dare say them out loud

i think about your cats and your bedroom and the smile i could practically see blaring inside my head, i miss hearing your mother tongue and hearing your sleepy just woke up and sleepy about to go to bed voice

i hate seeing that you dont follow me on instagram anymore

i wanted to be with you so bad

i thought i was over you for the longest time, its been months now but sometimes all i can think about is you and than i realize im no where close to being over you

im in love with you and you arent by my side anymore

im not sure whos to blame, me or you, both of us? sometimes two people just grow apart.

it was so good while it lasted. im so, so grateful for you, and all the time we spent together.

i wish we had more time. there are so many things i want to know about you.

i grieve for the life i envisioned with you. i cant even stand to see the name of your country anymore it makes my heart ache.

i imagined a small house with you, and rings on our fingers, and waking up besides you, and carding my fingers through your hair, i wont ever be able to feel your warmth.

ill never get to curl your fingers with mine, petting out cat and see you standing in the doorway smiling down at me. i think about all the presents i wanted to gift you.

ive tried to move on, ignoring you and what we had. but the truth is we had nothing, a mild flirtation at best. you always wanted someone else, something different. i know we all have different tastes but every time i fall in love it seems like im rejected, and all i can wonder every time is, what is wrong with me?

why am i not appealing? wheres my lets grow old together moment? i want forever with someone. i tel myself i wont fall in love again, that i dont even have a proper concept of it. and thats true on some hand. i dont know what it means to be loved by you, or anyone else.

i only know what love is in my mind and that is so beautiful. i wont ever stop letting myself fall in love, regrettably. i know i hurt every time after, it only ends in rejection to me. it makes me think of all the times i rejected other people and it makes me so sad, it makes me wish i said yes. so they didnt feel the way i feel now, so i wouldnt be alone. but none of those people sparked the feeling in my chest.

maybe i fell in love with the idea of loving you instead of actually being in love with you. im not sure honestly.

i grieve my relationship with you because i wont ever have that again, no one will come close to being like you. you were one of a kind, and im so glad you let me get to know you just for a little while.

i grieve the fact knowing that i will die before someone falls in love with me and i them. i will never get my fairytale ending, or even a mediocre relationship people settle for. i wont feel the sun beaming down on my skin and feeling good morning kisses peppered on my face or arms

i wont have someone cup my face and stare into my eyes or have someone brush my hair back behind my ears or someone resting their hand on my knees or legs or thighs and squeezing just once to let them know they’re there. i wont have stupid arguments that we apologize to each other before we go to sleep and i wont have someone button my dress shirt and tie because they want too and i wont have someone sit with their legs curled on out couch next to mine and show me something funny on their phone that made them laugh or think of me.

i wont stop letting myself fall in love or give up on the idea of love as a whole. even though i grieve for the fact that i wont ever get to experience love.

i miss the us we could have been. i miss the us i could have been with all the others too. i miss the futures ive seen inside my head and all the worlds tucked away in a back corner of my mind. i miss thinking thats the person i want to marry, to buy a first home with, to raise a child or animal with, i miss all the universes where i had a happy ending. i hate knowing that i wont get one in this one. i wont stop trying to let it happen but that doesnt mean i dont already know what my outcome is.

i know im not a mind reader or a fortune teller but it doesnt take a rocket scientist to know that ill be lucky if i make it to twenty-five. the fact i made it this long is a miracle truly. i guess i just want to have fallen in love before i die.

i guess i have. i loved you, i loved them, i really did. i guess i should say i want to have love with someone else and them love me too before i die. i feel like thats a lot to be asking though. maybe ill stick around till thirty if thats a glimmer of hope when im older.

i grieve for my future. i hope i get to love someone the way i could have loved you.

#november 22nd 22 #letters to pav

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glorifiedbones · 1 year

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i told u to pls stop talking about food issues and you keep do and i told u to stop being so graphic and your fucking going into detail and i havent been honest with myself but ive relapsed since highschool and all i can think about is how much i weigh now vs how much i weighed than how i look now vs how i looked than and i fucking hate how i look now and my dad said i looked overweight on the phone from last he saw and all i can think about is how when i was skinny no one knew no one knew no one knew and all i can think about is how much ive been eating lately and trrying to eat less and i got a tea the other night instead of diet coke because even though the calories are more sdoa is even worse and i feel like my teeth are rotting out of my face and i want to claw at my skin and i want to slit my throatnand fuck i want to rip out my hair because why cant i BE NIRMAL O JSUT WANT TBE NORMAL EVERYONE ELSE IS FUCKING NEOMAL WHY DONI AHVE TO BENLIKE THIS IT ISNT FUCKING FAIR I HATE YOU I HATE YOUNIBHATE YOU

being depressed isnt a competition and im tired of the world thinking it is and i maybe if i had thicker skin i could do better but instead im just this fucking nuisance. i want to escape from here i feel trapped in my own skin.

#november 2nd 22

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glorifiedbones · 2 years

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im telling myself i have to keep going. for this cruise my aunt paid for already. i just need to keep going until my birthday and this gift i am so gracious for. and yet part of me despises it because if it wasnt there i would get out of my bed right now, creep into my kitchen, grab a knife, probably stand still in the kitchen. put it back, pull it back, put it back. id stand there for a couple moments in eerie silence of the night. id contemplate if thats something id really want to do or not. i think the answer is yes. i almost gave my friend a hundred dollars for his birthday cause i figured if im dead i dont need any money. i changed my mind because i thought that was pretty fucked up even for me. i think to myself maybe stay alive long enough just for grandma to die. thats morbid i know; but my grandfather has already passed but the worst part is i think to myself maybe not. because at best she has twenty years left. my worst because i cant wait twenty years. in twenty years ill be forty and im positive ill kill myself before i turn twenty five. if im realistic probably twenty three.

its not healthy you impose your mental health on someone else but sometimes i wonder if i had a significant other id change my mind about killing myself. i like to think itd be because id be happy. but i know you shouldnt impose life altering feelings such as those on someone else. you cant control other people. my metaphorical boyfriend/girlfriend that doesnt exist could leave me. lately ive thought to myself that id be okay with a boyfriend that would abuse me because at least that would mean he hasnt left me. in my sick and twistsd mind that tells me, at least he still cares enough about me to comit domestic violence. and than my stomach turns because holy shit that is mentally ill i shouldnt be wishing that im abused just for some love or pity or attention seeking or whatever the fuck it is im missing so badly in life. i think the answer is yes. id grab the blade and head to my shower turn it on. fill the tub with hot water. place the blade on the counter. id turn back to my bedroom door, lock. closet, new clothes my future dead body clothes. i think about how my corpse would look sometimes. how it would degrade if no one found my corpse. would i have gnats flying over me and maggots crawling over my grey skin and i wonder what i would look like if i had a gun and spewed my brains out all over the wall if i put it in my mouth and pulled the trigger. thats a bit dark but y’know. whatever. id put my dead body clothes on and turn the light off and shut the closet door and grab my phone thats in my room charging on the charger. id pull it off and open up musi. id probably play the playlist my friend made me. or maybe id press shuffle on my whole playlist. it sits on top of the back of my toilet. id sit on my knees on my spiderman bathmat if the tub wasnt full yet while i waited for it to fill. turn it off when it does. grab the blade. step in the tub. sit. lean back. my breathing would be heavy because holy fuck am i really about to do this? its what ive been waiting for, for fucking ages! im jealous of the me i picture in my head right now. because the me in my head right now makes an ugly whimpering sound as i slice two lines dug into my arms and rolled up sleeves. like how hannah baker did on that dumb fucking show. i havent even finished it because it got dumb as shit with the raped girl and her boyfriend. i wonder what noises i would make if someone else was stabbing me. not like a metaphorical lover but like a serial killer or something. though i suppose if i was to go out by a lover than maybe theyd play the part of grieving boyfriend well. or theyd kill themselves after too, one final act of love and devotion. but thats a bit fucked up like romeo and juliet and that wasnt romantic because romeo was a dumb piece of shit who promptly forgot that the plan was to fake their deaths. obviously she wasnt dead you numbskull. and juliet how could you be in love with a man so stupid? how could anyone be in love with a man so depressed like me?

how could anyone look at me and think thats their person? its not a question of am i worthy or not, its a question of am i desirable enough. the answer is im not by the way. raging mental illness is hot on chicks but thats like the bipolar im obsessed with you or im a whore mental illness. not the i am literally fantasizing about my death right now mental illness. is it a crime to want to be the former rather than the later? maybe id wear a black corset and flaunt my breasts and suck cock and get laid and tie long straight brown hair up into a pony tail and get my nails done. but im not a woman and those things arent exactly the me i have in mind. maybe woman me would be cool with that, at least shed be getting laid. but im just me, the male me by the way, and im not confident at all like that. i wish i was a different person. taller, blonder, chiseled jaw, id work out and each vegetables and know how to cook and clean, id be like the boys on tiktok who wore maid outfits for the funny trends, and id probably shop for clothes more often to stay trendy and stylish, id post body checks and thirst traps on tiktok and instagram and maybe id play the guitar better than i already do. pst, i dont really know how to play, im faking it. at least thats what i tell myself in an attempt to self sabotage and diminish any real qualities i may potentially have about myself because the thing is at least if i have nothing going on in my life at all it makes sense to kill myself you know?

but the thing is i play the guitar and i play video games and maybe all my friends are online but those are still friends and i should have reasons to not kill myself, those are plenty good reasons. a family that loves and cares and provides endlessly for me. and im fucking selfish because for whatever reason thats not enough for me. id hiss at the hot water as it stings my skin and id hiss as the blade cuts into my skin and id cry because maybe ill finally be happy if im fucking dead. my blood swirls in with the water. it sloshes over the sides of the tub and onto the false wood of the ground. just another thing my lazy useless selfish self has left for someone else to pick up after. id kill myself in the bathtub because itd make it easier on everyone else to clean up my corpse. the thing is my mother would never know for hours because id do it at night when i make sure shes asleep. shed sleep for eight to ten hours. thatd be eight to ten hours where im dead and she couldnt do anything about it. no more intake systems that kick me out after two days because they either dont care about me or im not depressed enough to warrant a stay or maybe we paid for that and im just too fucking broke to deserve being helped. no more feeling like the most useless person on the planet because im literally a fat as fuck discord admin who lives in their moms basement except im worse because they can get discord kittens and ive never even held someones hand romantically. ive never had my first kiss, ive never had sex, ive never touched another womans breasts or felt the feeling of another mans cock inside me or gone on a date. ive never cuddled someone who noses at my neck leaving soft kisses, ive never made someone giggle so much because i made them feel safe and loved. ive never been with another person and i put all my self worth onto this imaginary person. and its selfish because im expecting this falsehood to cure my illness but ive been depressed for years and its not going to be cured. ill forever be like this. in truth ill probably chicken out because im a pussy and ill leave more words like these and play more games and gain more weight and be more of a loser.

maybe ill kill myself when im thirty two and id live by myself and i dont talk to my mother or father or aunt or uncle. i go to my minimum wage job and go back home again. ive gained a hundred pounds and im a fat ugly fuck who cant see properly because id be too broke to buy new prescription glasses. i have no one to call, no friends, not even online ones, still a virgin, a pathetic no life no one. this is how i see myself now but if im thirty two and still living itd be even worse because thats just a grotesque depressed mother fucker whos pathetic. id drink alcohol so im piss drunk, id have a gun purchased and registered under my name, and id be able to buy it because i havent been medicated since early highschool and theres no legal signs of my depression and truthfully its not thay hard to lie to professionals. but honestly id probably be golden with the gun licensing because they dont exactly have super strict regulations everywhere, so id just go somewhere that doesnt have many. id be drunk off piss warm beer i choked down, maybe fruity vodka because the idea of piss warm beer is disgusting but the beer would be cheaper i think. id choke down the whole six pack, maybe pull out a smoke, id sit in my creaky old chair id probably bought off amazon or facebook market place. the gun and bullet casings would be on a table beside me. id grab and load the weapon, cock it in my mouth and pull the trigger. simple as that. easy as that. id be dead and no one would find my body. my corpse would get caught because a neighbor would complain about a rancid disgusting smell coming from my flat. i wouldnt care about who cleans up after my mess because there is no one to worry about. theyd clean the splatters of my brains and blood off the wall, maybe theyd take a picture or two. is it fucked up that im romanticizing the idea of my death inside my head right now? im fantasizing about my future inevitable demise and i would fucking smile with glee if i wasnt so exhausted.

but its late and im tired and my bottom lip is pushing uncomfortabley close against the skin of my chin. i cant tell if its because of my buck fucking teeth or if its because im getting fatter, the fat flooding to my face. its already all over my stomach and thighs, im disgusting and undesirable. i miss being sixteen because even though i was fucking depressed and suicidal i was skinny because i would starve myself and my mother would never care because she hated me then. whether she would admit it or not i know my mother did not care about me when i was sixteen. and its not just me being dumb as shit “oh everyone hates me” it was genuinely her actions. choosing people who hurt me over me, staying and standing by their side even to this day but its hard to admit that even to myself because if i do that means its true and isnt my mom the one person in the world who should pick me her son over everyone else, would rather pick someone who hurt me and hurt her and it would also mean no one would ever pick me at the end of the world. im almost jealous of him sometimes. he has someone who would pick him and i have staring at my bedroom wall for sixteen hours a day. god im pathetic. i had one french fry today and i regret eating it so much because if i didnt eat it, that would mean i havent ate anything at all today and part of me needs that back. part of me needs sixteen year old me because i had an undiagnosed eating disorder as a cry for help which no one saw or recognized. and now i have body rolls and im almost two hundred pounds. i had an anorexia tumblr account and i was thin and my stomach was flat and i was thin i was so thin and now im fat and its even worse on me because im fucking short as fuck. i had friends i went to homecoming with i had a best friend and it was us against the world but only in my mind because ive never been anyone elses “its us against the world” and i smiled because even though i struggled mentally i had things that i dont have now. im jealous.

i think often about the person i would be if we never moved. id be in college, have a job, shed still be my best friend because i would have never moved, maybe id have a girlfriend because i was super like into chicks back than and maybe id never fall out of love with women the way it seems i so often have a back and forth now. or maybe id be dating the cute boy i had a crush on who picked me up and span me around the lunch room. or maybe id be dating the girl who grinded up on my cock at homecoming, she was cute. i still have her number, id text her since we were friends back then if i still lived there but we arent friends now and i dont live there anymore. i am not that person anymore. i have to wake up and accept the fact that im not him anymore, “your not that guy, pal. your not that pal buddy. your not that buddy, dude. your not that dude, man. your not that man, guy.”

and so the cycle repeats. i fantasize about the knife in my kitchens knife block. i thing about slitting my throat and slicing open my stomach and killing myself often because im depressed and suicidal and unmedicated and im fucking pathetic. because i wont kill myself. every day i wake up and get on my computer and play video games all day. i wont kill myself because im pathetic and scared, because in truth i want to get better because getting better means being happy and being happy means truly living and truly living means im not stuck inside this ugly shell you call a life that ive crafted for myself. i wont kill myself because i dont know if god is real or not and im scared to die because what if the world is just dark after? i dont think i can truly comprehend how isolating death would be. the burning in my brain, the ringing in my ears, hearing the voice that is thinking inside my head, the feeling of my skin and the ache inside my legs. all of it would just stop and i cant comprehend that and im scared of that. but at the same time i think of that lady gaga interview where shes asked if she could do one thing without any consequences, what would she do?

die she answers. she would die.

#sept 21st 22

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glorifiedbones · 2 years

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i dont know how to apply to a job really, or at least im not super confident in my abilities. my teacher helped me apply to mcdonalds. not you. what good that worked out. i dont even know how to apply to college. it doesnt matter how many videos or tiktoks or people i ask, it just doesnt click. i dont know why. im limited to having opportunities at my fingertips but nothing fucking makes sense. its so frustrating i cry. im crying right now. i could blame it on you for being the parent and not teaching me things, but i just fee that wpuld be wrong and shifting the blame even though its my fault for being so fucking stupid. i would blame you for not helping me but what do i fucking expect. i would blame you for the time i tried to apply to a college and it didnt work out out, but both you and my dad were upset that happened. i should go to a community college and go from there i know you guys are eight but i dont know how i dont know how to i dont know how i cam only watch so kich youtube tutorials before i want to blow my brains out but it doesnt make sense. it doesnt matter how much or how many or different people tell enthings i cant because it doesnt make snese. im so fucking stupid and its so upsetting because i feel like i used to be so smart. i want to kill myself so bad its not even funny sometmes and i try to compensate but putting it off but the trith is it doesnt matter how many years go by i know im going to kill myself it just depends on when and how. i dont know how to be a human in our society and if you cant even function like that i mean how can you really do anything you know? i can only live off my parents for so long and then that gets you where? i fantasize about slitting my throat so often its bliss. everything would be so much better for me and truthfully everyone if i wasnt here. you guys like to think it wouldnt that we all ahve something to live for but thats just fake lies we all tell ourselves because people arent supposed to want that. but i do and im not just being depressing about saying that because its the truth. i dont have anything worth living for no job no friends no super fool hobbies i sit in my room for 24/7/365 days and play video games on repeat. that isnt a life worth living and im not entertaining enough outside of that to be worth it. i cleaned my bathtub and sink the other day and felt so proud of myself i remember feeling so fucking good about myself and now all i picture is bleeding all over the porcelain. i play video games all day and write serial killer smut fanfiction and watch youtube and i dont have any real friends or real connections. all my online friends have other things going for them im not a missed space in their day. i used to get mad at my sister because she left and i felt/feel like she abandoned me. but the truth is she never liked me to begin with and we were never close. i say im happy she escaped but really im just happy shes not like me anymore. shes not depressed like she used to be and she has a husband now and the amazing career that i want. im so envious really. i cant even wish she doesnt have it because im so fucking happy she does. she deserves it. but what do i deserve? do i deserve anything? is it just me being depressed to say i deserve nothing? i shouldnt have even graduated highschool, literally, my mom did my online chemistry class because i couldnt do it and i cheated the rest. why did i do that? why did i chest so often? i wish i sat down and read the books and the materials and did the hard work. but the truth is i did that for so many years and sometime between highschool and middleschool it all stopped making sense. like a sponge so eager to soak up water i was knowledge, but now im filled up and cant take anything else anymore like the sopping wet sponge cant soak up more water. it’s pathetic because you can ring out the sponge and itll be good to go again, but me and my brain? you cant ring out my brain, im just stuck being this ignorant for the rest of my pathetic meaningless existence.

i should brush my teeth and take a shower. im disgusting for how filthy i am. i could just get up and go do it now? whats stopping me? absolutely nothing. i think it comes to point where i could just blame everything on my depression but it comes to a point where i just have to accept that im lazy and disgusting and dirty. im so fucking filthy. i want to scrub myself of these thoughts and feelings and behavior but i cant and i wont ever change. ill forever be stuck as this useless waste of space. im just a money pit at this point. im surprised my mom has put up with me for this long. you could say its because of love but i think its really just because she doesnt want to deal with the emotional fallout and backlash from the family. they would criticize her like the way they do for handling my sister. is she even my sister now? we are blood related but have no true emotional bonds. she hasnt replied to my facebook messages even though shes seen them. we arent family or friends she doesnt know anything about me and she doesnt want too. no. we arent sister and brother anymore but i wish we were. i miss her so bad. i miss being a child maybe if i was a kid again i could try harder. be nicer. be more diligent. but i could do that now couldnt i? anyways; the backlash from the family would absolutely kill whatever false emotions you have built up, for saying you dont care much about what they or other people think the truth is you care more than anyone ive ever met. its sort of cringe really. but i guess we all have our issues. im a waste of space and suicidal and your emotionally damaged. you never should have been a mother i know, you know, but you are and i am a son and it is what it is. i feel bad for being such a bad son. i wish i could have been a better son.

if jesus and god are real i hope hell isnt too bad. i would sit here and hope id go to heaven but im not the type of person that belongs there. but honestly i think hell is too good for me too so where do i belong? where do i go to be punished and corrected again? you could probably beat and torture my behaviors out of me but ill always be this useless and pathetic that doesnt fucking change. its a fact just like the grass is green and the sky is blue. i want to float and i want to be with the clouds and the stars. i want to feel the blood running down my body from my throat i want to feel the suffocating as my lungs fill with my own blood instead of oxygen and i want to feel the numbing pain that i felt from the time i cut my thighs and i want to die. so bad. i dont want to be here anymore. i sont want fo breathe i dont want to feel i dont want to be like this anymore. i dont want to exist but existing means feeling like this and feeling like this doesnt change no matter how much therapy i take or psychiatrists i see or pills i take or food i eat or dont eat or games i play or dont play. feeling like this is just a facet of my life and i would believe harder in god but if god is real why would he make me feel like this? or not make me per say but give me the opportunity to feel like this. so he can pick me back up again when im dead and make me feel whole? or send me to hell to fix me? that doesnt feel right or fair to me. i hope its all just black when i die. i hope its just empty and quiet. so i wont have to think anymore. i wont have to exist or feel pressure or be a waste of space i could just be.

i swallow the lumps inside my throat and sniff up the snot in my nose and feel the sides of my vision go from blurry with tears to relaxed contentment because i write this. it’s therapeutic to me. one day i will slit my throat wide and the blood will spray on the walls and the bathtub water with turn red and maybe ill be wearing my TMG merch shirt. the tan one with the robot on the back. i love that shirt. and maybe ill have a fresh haircut and just have taken a shower too. i used to wish bad things would happen to me and bad things did happen but no one cared still no one cared not really not at all. will anyone care when i carve out my throat? not the performance act but the true meaningful bond of care? no. not at all. one day i will slit my throat and ill bleed all over but today is not that day and when that day comes no one will care. no one at all. no one cares about you james you know that dont you? dont you see dont you feel it like that suffocating feeling on your chest? you can try to hide and pretend im not right but no one fucking cares james be fucking realistic with yourself. shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up. one day i will cease to exist and i cant fucking wait for it i cant fucking wait to die.

#sept 18th 22

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