Sakura.
NienawidzÄ™ siebie.
- May 1, 2024
- 159
I just returned to my room (which I won't be leaving at all for days again) after having to go outside. Lately, I haven't been leaving my room at all for days, and it feels very strange, and it also feels strange when I do have to go outside. Today I went outside unusually early, after only two days of being stuck in my room, and this time I handled it better than usual. I'm already so dead inside that I'm less sensitive to all the images that cause me psychological pain. So I wasn't as hurt by the images from the configuration you can already see in my posts: beautiful girls, smoking girls, girls with bangs, girls with colorful hair, girls being friends together and chatting happily. This time, it was simply strange to be among all these human beings when I wasn't one.
Still, I'd like to mention a girl who stood out above all others for her beauty. She was the luckiest person anyone could ever be: she was born incredibly beautiful, and as a result, everyone immediately adored her, and everyone viewed her extremely positively—as you can see from my post. In my case, my unattractive look, combined with my autistic appearance, makes me look repulsive, and no one immediately recognizes me as a person. And no matter what I do, I can't do anything to change that...
I had to go to the library to take pictures of the pages of several books about suicide, which is the topic of my master's thesis. But unfortunately, just as I was leaving, I noticed a shelf full of books on various types of pharmacotherapy, and I couldn't resist finding and reading about psychotropic drugs.
No one treats me like a human being, no one wants to have anything to do with me, none of my interpersonal interactions work, I can do anything, I can't talk to anyone, I can't be friends with anyone, I can't do anything in life because everything requires the participation of another person, and obviously I feel correspondingly bad about it—but it's best to say I simply have a mental disorder.
It's best to say that "depression is an illness like any other" and that, of course, "it can be cured." That I should be drugged with psychotropic drugs, which will make me feel nothing and stop me from thinking about it all, and that this will solve the problem. That depression is like a simple "vitamin deficiency," so there's probably just a shortage of psychotropic drugs in my organism, and I simply need to flood my brain with serotonin, and even in the same worst situation I'll feel overjoyed. I wish I'd gotten help in the past, that my parents had tricked me into taking psychotropic drugs, and that I'd have thought the way I've just presented. Whatever the case, if depression is simply a common illness that can be cured, then it's obvious that suicide is absolutely unacceptable, right... ?
I was coping better with all these incredibly painful scenes today, but at the very end I made a big mistake – I returned to my student residence just a minute too late. I noticed a strange scene where two men on opposite sides of the street were, for some completely inexplicable reason, shouting at each other and provoking each other. I waited for a minute, expecting a physical confrontation between them and that I could intervene. As you can see, my situation is such that I like to seek out situations where I can prove myself, where I could get hurt or get into trouble. However, nothing of the sort happened.
So I endured this painful situation well. It would have only taken 15 seconds to get back to the student residence for me to feel nothing more. But unfortunately, in those final seconds…
…soap bubbles appeared on my path.
...two girls from that student residence were standing at a second-story window, blowing bubbles.
I even wanted to shout out to them, "Oh my God, I love you!" (which would have been incredibly brave, because in my language, the word "love" is rather strictly understood and means romantic affection, not, for example, liking or enjoying something) and make a heart gesture with my hands, but I didn't. Because none of my social interactions with other people work, and therefore I can't even attempt them...
I, too, am just as wonderful a person as those two girls. I didn't think of blowing bubbles out of my window at passersby, but I did think of going to classes at my very serious university as a 24-year-old man with a backpack with Hello Kitty, My Melody and Kuromi plushies and pink ribbons. I still always have Hello Kitty stickers in my backpack, which I always want to give away for free to everyone else, but I don't have the opportunity. In college, I had pink Hello Kitty: notebooks and a water bottle, and I carried a pink Hello Kitty umbrella. I also dreamed of buying plushies from the Doki Doki Literature Club and being able to sit with them in class, holding my Natsuki in my hands, for example, and saying, "I'm not cute!" in class.
I'm also a wonderful person just as much...
But to everyone, I'm a monster...
But to no one, I'm a human being...
Still, I'd like to mention a girl who stood out above all others for her beauty. She was the luckiest person anyone could ever be: she was born incredibly beautiful, and as a result, everyone immediately adored her, and everyone viewed her extremely positively—as you can see from my post. In my case, my unattractive look, combined with my autistic appearance, makes me look repulsive, and no one immediately recognizes me as a person. And no matter what I do, I can't do anything to change that...
I had to go to the library to take pictures of the pages of several books about suicide, which is the topic of my master's thesis. But unfortunately, just as I was leaving, I noticed a shelf full of books on various types of pharmacotherapy, and I couldn't resist finding and reading about psychotropic drugs.
No one treats me like a human being, no one wants to have anything to do with me, none of my interpersonal interactions work, I can do anything, I can't talk to anyone, I can't be friends with anyone, I can't do anything in life because everything requires the participation of another person, and obviously I feel correspondingly bad about it—but it's best to say I simply have a mental disorder.
It's best to say that "depression is an illness like any other" and that, of course, "it can be cured." That I should be drugged with psychotropic drugs, which will make me feel nothing and stop me from thinking about it all, and that this will solve the problem. That depression is like a simple "vitamin deficiency," so there's probably just a shortage of psychotropic drugs in my organism, and I simply need to flood my brain with serotonin, and even in the same worst situation I'll feel overjoyed. I wish I'd gotten help in the past, that my parents had tricked me into taking psychotropic drugs, and that I'd have thought the way I've just presented. Whatever the case, if depression is simply a common illness that can be cured, then it's obvious that suicide is absolutely unacceptable, right... ?
I was coping better with all these incredibly painful scenes today, but at the very end I made a big mistake – I returned to my student residence just a minute too late. I noticed a strange scene where two men on opposite sides of the street were, for some completely inexplicable reason, shouting at each other and provoking each other. I waited for a minute, expecting a physical confrontation between them and that I could intervene. As you can see, my situation is such that I like to seek out situations where I can prove myself, where I could get hurt or get into trouble. However, nothing of the sort happened.
So I endured this painful situation well. It would have only taken 15 seconds to get back to the student residence for me to feel nothing more. But unfortunately, in those final seconds…
…soap bubbles appeared on my path.
...two girls from that student residence were standing at a second-story window, blowing bubbles.
I even wanted to shout out to them, "Oh my God, I love you!" (which would have been incredibly brave, because in my language, the word "love" is rather strictly understood and means romantic affection, not, for example, liking or enjoying something) and make a heart gesture with my hands, but I didn't. Because none of my social interactions with other people work, and therefore I can't even attempt them...
I, too, am just as wonderful a person as those two girls. I didn't think of blowing bubbles out of my window at passersby, but I did think of going to classes at my very serious university as a 24-year-old man with a backpack with Hello Kitty, My Melody and Kuromi plushies and pink ribbons. I still always have Hello Kitty stickers in my backpack, which I always want to give away for free to everyone else, but I don't have the opportunity. In college, I had pink Hello Kitty: notebooks and a water bottle, and I carried a pink Hello Kitty umbrella. I also dreamed of buying plushies from the Doki Doki Literature Club and being able to sit with them in class, holding my Natsuki in my hands, for example, and saying, "I'm not cute!" in class.
I'm also a wonderful person just as much...
But to everyone, I'm a monster...
But to no one, I'm a human being...
