Venting My own Hell

[Jisatsu]

I sit in this house while the world keeps moving without me. Same walls, same stale cold air, same clock chewing through hours like it's got somewhere better to be. Everyone else seems to have a script... a plan for life. Places to go. People waiting for them. I just pace between rooms like a ghost ...
I scroll until my thumb aches, watching other people exist effortlessly. Smiling. Touching. Being wanted. It feels obscene, like I'm spying on a species I don't belong to. I constantly watch the world turn without me... like I'm punishing myself.
The urge crawls in when it gets quiet. Not a suggestion. A demand. It tells me I'm fake for staying clean, that all this restraint proves nothing except how weak I am. It whispers that destruction is the only thing I'm good at, the only thing that's ever worked. That I deserve to be marked by the damage... that I need to show the world the pain I feel ...
I want to tear myself down to the the bone... down to the very fucking atoms. Break something permanent. I crave seeing the my life drip from me and coagulate on the floor as I fall and make my place in my own pool of blood.Do something irreversible just to feel alive one last time.
I don't even want happiness anymore. I want silence. I want the noise in my head to shut up for five FUCKING minutes. I want to stop feeling like I'm pressed against shards of broken glass, ... tired of these third degree burns that cant be seen by anyone else but me..
Being alone like this makes the thoughts louder. They echo. They stack. They convince me that disappearing would be a mercy not to me but to everyone else, that hurting myself is the closest thing to honesty I have left. And the worst part is how convincing it sounds when I'm tired enough. These voices calling my name and convincing me that everyone is against me ... I can't trust anyone anymore... especially not myself.
I sit here knowing I've survived myself over and over, and somehow that doesn't help. It just makes me feel like I'm stuck doing this forever.... I've already made hell for myself and it's here.

 

[Gangrel]

sending hugs, it hurts me seeing people suffering so much, you don't deserve any of that

 

[Chemi]

I wanted to say, your vent was incredibly well-written. The references you used, and the metaphors were spot-on. They made something really dark feel strangely beautiful. Thank you for sharing it like that. I love these borderline poetic ways of describing one's pain so much. <3

 

[Jisatsu]

I wanted to say, your vent was incredibly well-written. The references you used, and the metaphors were spot-on. They made something really dark feel strangely beautiful. Thank you for sharing it like that. I love these borderline poetic ways of describing one's pain so much. <3

When I sit down and actually type out what I'm feeling ... it does seem quite poetic.....
... the beauty of suffering I guess.

 

[kuroshimi]

Beautifully said.

 

[leftoperish]

I sit in this house while the world keeps moving without me. Same walls, same stale cold air, same clock chewing through hours like it's got somewhere better to be. Everyone else seems to have a script... a plan for life. Places to go. People waiting for them. I just pace between rooms like a ghost ...
I scroll until my thumb aches, watching other people exist effortlessly. Smiling. Touching. Being wanted. It feels obscene, like I'm spying on a species I don't belong to. I constantly watch the world turn without me... like I'm punishing myself.
The urge crawls in when it gets quiet. Not a suggestion. A demand. It tells me I'm fake for staying clean, that all this restraint proves nothing except how weak I am. It whispers that destruction is the only thing I'm good at, the only thing that's ever worked. That I deserve to be marked by the damage... that I need to show the world the pain I feel ...
I want to tear myself down to the the bone... down to the very fucking atoms. Break something permanent. I crave seeing the my life drip from me and coagulate on the floor as I fall and make my place in my own pool of blood.Do something irreversible just to feel alive one last time.
I don't even want happiness anymore. I want silence. I want the noise in my head to shut up for five FUCKING minutes. I want to stop feeling like I'm pressed against shards of broken glass, ... tired of these third degree burns that cant be seen by anyone else but me..
Being alone like this makes the thoughts louder. They echo. They stack. They convince me that disappearing would be a mercy not to me but to everyone else, that hurting myself is the closest thing to honesty I have left. And the worst part is how convincing it sounds when I'm tired enough. These voices calling my name and convincing me that everyone is against me ... I can't trust anyone anymore... especially not myself.
I sit here knowing I've survived myself over and over, and somehow that doesn't help. It just makes me feel like I'm stuck doing this forever.... I've already made hell for myself and it's here.

You're so poetic. If i could have one dying wish it'd be definitely to pick your brain lol….not on some Jeffery Dahmer shit tho lol more like edger Allen Poe, i love poetic people with a burning passion i feel they really get to experience what life is for what it actually is which is beautiful chaos in play. May be a selfish ask but mind writing some journals or a short book before you ever decide to see who sent us here? Really sorry cause i know it's really a selfish ask.

 

[Bruce]

I would like to analyze, to reply with solutions, to share ways to heal each of your wounds but.. I can't. I'm frozen, I'm in awe at the beauty of your mind! Your vision is crystal. Pain has honed your intelligence and loneliness kept your mind clear of social debris. Your soul does not shine, it blinds! You are the sun!

 

[Jisatsu]

You're so poetic. If i could have one dying wish it'd be definitely to pick your brain lol….not on some Jeffery Dahmer shit tho lol more like edger Allen Poe, i love poetic people with a burning passion i feel they really get to experience what life is for what it actually is which is beautiful chaos in play. May be a selfish ask but mind writing some journals or a short book before you ever decide to see who sent us here? Really sorry cause i know it's really a selfish ask.

I did write in a journal and I do write poems and songs.
It's actually rare for me to vent like this

 

[JassieDusk]

It feels obscene, like I'm spying on a species I don't belong to.

You took the words out of the soul of so many of us. Spying at something, someone, in this case the whole society. It feels criminal to just exist amongst them.
I wish there was a separate universe where people like us get sent to when life has been sucked out of their living bodies, without actually having to go through the whole process of CTB. Just to be sent somewhere separate when it gets to that point. Somewhere where you're allowed to disappear like you never existed.

 

[cemeteryismyhome]

... Everyone else seems to have a script... a plan for life. Places to go. People waiting for them. ...

I look like someone with a script on the outside. But it's all external. Inside I feel much like what you eloquently described. I hate the "script". It drags me around all over the place against my will.

 

[woofwag]

I totally get it. Idk if you've ever tried this, but sometimes when I validate the voices they can get a bit quieter. I like to sink into them sometimes. Admittedly, I agree with them most of the time, that death will bring me permanent peace. And I tell them I love them, and I appreciate what they do for me to try to stop the pain. Because ofc that's what all of us on here want. The loop of it all really is the worst part. It's possible to be your own company. I've gotten so good at it, I avoid everyone and everything. So idk, even though I'm still miserable and self-destructive, it takes the edge off a bit. Anything to take the edge off, right? Gods know we all deserve that.

 

[Jisatsu]

I totally get it. Idk if you've ever tried this, but sometimes when I validate the voices they can get a bit quieter. I like to sink into them sometimes. Admittedly, I agree with them most of the time, that death will bring me permanent peace. And I tell them I love them, and I appreciate what they do for me to try to stop the pain. Because ofc that's what all of us on here want. The loop of it all really is the worst part. It's possible to be your own company. I've gotten so good at it, I avoid everyone and everything. So idk, even though I'm still miserable and self-destructive, it takes the edge off a bit. Anything to take the edge off, right? Gods know we all deserve that.

If I agree with my voices I'd hurt people ... and I don't want to hurt anyone ... but myself

 

[woofwag]

If I agree with my voices I'd hurt people ... and I don't want to hurt anyone ... but myself

Agreeing with them doesn't necessarily mean acting on what they say. It's more about acknowledgement and respect. But yea, doesn't work for everyone. I hope things can get easier for you

 

[leftoperish]

I did write in a journal and I do write poems and songs.
It's actually rare for me to vent like this

Care to share …..can't end all this excitement here (literally took me hours to come up with this lame rhyme, but I'd really be glad to read more of your work honestly)

 

[Jisatsu]

Care to share …..can't end all this excitement here (literally took me hours to come up with this lame rhyme, but I'd really be glad to read more of your work honestly)

Thread 'My Writings ,Songs and Poems that will most likely never see the light of day because of my death.' https://sanctioned-suicide.net/thre...-the-light-of-day-because-of-my-death.217711/

 

[leftoperish]

Thread 'My Writings ,Songs and Poems that will most likely never see the light of day because of my death.' https://sanctioned-suicide.net/thre...-the-light-of-day-because-of-my-death.217711/

I've been a little busy during the holidays, the usual family stuff basking in consumerism and adhering to the capitalist function which i like to call Christmas, but I'll have a look at this and give you feedback on what i think…and don't worry guys I'm not in the higher plain of existence yet, hope ya'll didn't miss me too much lol….but I'm heading to that bus stop ever so closely, just feel like completing a few side quests before i take the bold step lol

 

[lastsunset]

I sit in this house while the world keeps moving without me. Same walls, same stale cold air, same clock chewing through hours like it's got somewhere better to be. Everyone else seems to have a script... a plan for life. Places to go. People waiting for them. I just pace between rooms like a ghost ...
I scroll until my thumb aches, watching other people exist effortlessly. Smiling. Touching. Being wanted. It feels obscene, like I'm spying on a species I don't belong to. I constantly watch the world turn without me... like I'm punishing myself.
The urge crawls in when it gets quiet. Not a suggestion. A demand. It tells me I'm fake for staying clean, that all this restraint proves nothing except how weak I am. It whispers that destruction is the only thing I'm good at, the only thing that's ever worked. That I deserve to be marked by the damage... that I need to show the world the pain I feel ...
I want to tear myself down to the the bone... down to the very fucking atoms. Break something permanent. I crave seeing the my life drip from me and coagulate on the floor as I fall and make my place in my own pool of blood.Do something irreversible just to feel alive one last time.
I don't even want happiness anymore. I want silence. I want the noise in my head to shut up for five FUCKING minutes. I want to stop feeling like I'm pressed against shards of broken glass, ... tired of these third degree burns that cant be seen by anyone else but me..
Being alone like this makes the thoughts louder. They echo. They stack. They convince me that disappearing would be a mercy not to me but to everyone else, that hurting myself is the closest thing to honesty I have left. And the worst part is how convincing it sounds when I'm tired enough. These voices calling my name and convincing me that everyone is against me ... I can't trust anyone anymore... especially not myself.
I sit here knowing I've survived myself over and over, and somehow that doesn't help. It just makes me feel like I'm stuck doing this forever.... I've already made hell for myself and it's here.

This was like I was reading my own mind. I think living alone will be the death of me