ComprehensivelyGloomy

Hurt and scared.

Nobody’s gonna care when I eventually go radio silent.

Do people really get the grace of worried parents after being caught attempting? The only thing I got was a death threat and a very bad beating with whatever was close enough the 2 times I was caught. Why would somebody want to try that again when there’s at least someone who worries?

I don’t think you can stop being suicidal, you only get better at trying to convince yourself that you aren’t.

My skin is rotting away, but it doesn’t necrotize, it doesn’t die, it comes right back as scar tissue that makes everywhere in between my legs and lower thighs look like I’ve been poked and prodded with branding irons for years. I bleed a lot, but of course I’m only gonna generate more blood to let go of anyway. I am tired of this, very very tired of this. I can’t patch something that’s bleeding because I don’t have any formal bandaging, just bandaids and small patches of gauze with some alcohol, and even so they’ll become useless because of how much my own body is making me bleed and leak other fluids I don’t even wanna think about. Hidradenitis suppuratavia is its name. Any other life it’d just be another condition I’m glad I didn’t have, but of course I was born into the world where I have it, and I have to deal with it permanently, or at least until I’m gone. I hate myself more and more because of things I’m not even sure were my fault to begin with.

One day I will say goodbye, and I’m afraid that when I do, I’ll be happier than I was down here even though I’ll devastate the few people who stayed there for me.

I feel terrible.

I feel like I’m dead already, and all I have to do now is march to my grave.

If I ever say goodbye, whether you were here and following me from earlier posts or not, whether or not you stumbled upon me after I’ve left this place or if I ever will, you matter. Maybe not as much if you’ve genuinely been a bad person, but people can redeem themselves. But you matter, you really do. You matter to me, you matter to everyone around you, whether or not you have anyone in the present, or if you’ll only have people in the future, you matter, and I care about you. It’s in my nature even though I’ve been conditioned into hating people. I still care. You still matter. And I hope you have a good night or day.

I think I’m just crying and begging for someone to come when nobody has interest in doing so. Again.

Either my peace never comes, or it comes way too late, after I would’ve needed it the most.

I can’t stand the idea someone could ever love a thing as pathetic as me

I should die. Don’t you think I should die? It doesn’t matter that it’s supposed to be my mental health month. I should die, right?

Bad. Just bad. I still want a hug.

My physical state is beginning to reflect my mental state. This isn’t good at all

I wish I was a bat, actually. Hanging out in dingy dark places, scavenging for food with a bunch of others who don’t really talk but we just sort of co-exist and maybe have relationships happen sometimes. That sounds like a mood.