June 30th 2019

9:53 pm

Music: Monster (English Version) by Henry

I honestly don't know where to start.

It's the day after I tried.

I tried to take my life last night.

But of course it didn't work out. I tried like 20 times before but I never succeed. I'm too much of a coward. Fucking pathetic. Maybe I don't deserve the peace of finally sleeping forever.

I tried to slit my wrist. I got way to drunk. I took way to many drugs. And... I don't know. Everything just became too much. I was so determined to kill myself.

I was rolling around the ground, screaming and crying in pain. Crazy what mental pain can do to people. I don't cry, you know. The last time I cried because of sadness was at my grandpas funeral. I was 14 then.

But the drugs and the alcohol really got me this time. I know I have an issue with both, and I do abuse both a lot, but yesterday was just... bad. I don't know, I really can't explain.

I was even so unable to think that I made 'goodbye voicemails' to my friends. One of them called. Begging me to get help. But I never do.

"I can't convince myself to go to therapy when I'm the happiest I've ever been. I'd rather keep this up until I blow my cover and someone takes me to the emergency room."

A quote from a video game that really struck with me. Nothing describes me more perfectly than this.

I definitely blew my cover that night.

I started cutting like I always do. It reminded me of my cat when I used to play with her. That made me cry even louder and cut even deeper. I was bleeding all over the place, but I wasn't paying attention to that. I just wanted the pain inside me to go away so bad. But the closer I got to the wrist the more painful it got. So I tried to do it in one slit. But I failed. I cut deep, but I didn't cut deep enough. Blood came out in streams, dripping on the ground. I stared at it for a second, sobbing and trying to realize what just happened. Then a huge wave of panic hit me. I started howling like a fucking wolf, pressing my fingers onto the wound.

The pain was indescribable.

I wanted it to stop. I wanted this life to end. So I grabbed the sleeping pills that I always have In my backpack and took them all.

"Make it stop" I screamed over and over again. I don't know who is screaming to exactly, I don't believe in God or anything like that, but I had no control over my body at this point.

It was going on like this for quite a while. I was panicking but unable to do anything.

Then the sleeping pills started to kick in. My stomach started hurting really bad and the it just happened. I just vomited. Right then, right there. The ground was covered in a mix of blood and vomit. Thank God I don't have any carpets.

Edit: reading through it rn. I have to say, some things sound pretty dramatic, I don't even remember them that well. I just have this thought in my head that a writer has to exaggerate some things to create an image in the readers head. I don't know. Let me know what you think.

I don't even remember that vividly to be honest, I can only recall chunks of it. But I woke up in in that stuff, so I guess I just passed out after some time.

It was 5 pm the next day when I woke up. The "sleep" has been almost coma-like. I was feeling very very sick. My head was hurting, my stomach too. There was blood and vomit everywhere. At least the wound has stopped bleeding.

I got up and got into my cutting routine. Rinse it with cold water, use antiseptic and then put bandages on. The bigger wound I carefully cleaned with a towel. Didn't want to make it bleed again.

Then I showered. There was vomit and blood on my hair and clothes too. Fucking gross. After that I cleaned my apartment. I opened the windows to let some fresh air inside. I really needed it.

I haven't really talked to anyone in days. I didn't even realize. I don't talk to others and others don't talk to me. I have headphones on all day and only taking them off during a lecture.

But I knew I wouldn't go to uni tomorrow. I would skip the gym too. I just didn't feel like going. Having to go out of the house is a huge challenge for me. It's a fight to get out of the bed. I'm always so tired too. Maybe I'm lacking vitamins. I've been eating a lot of junk food lately- no wonder I gained weight.

I'm such an ugly pig. Waste of time and space, I'm telling ya.

But for some reason I decided to text a friend. Well, "friend". More like fwb. And the things is, I'm starting to catch feelings for him. But he's gay. He can fall in love with both, but he's mostly into guys. And the girls he prefers are skinny. I'm not skinny at all. Not really chubby either. More like trained with a very high fat percentage. I'm gross a fuck. And he thinks the same way IT's so frustrating that I work out so much but nothings working. I've been doing butt exercises for half a year now and the butt hasn't changed at all. I've been going heavy on them weights, progressive overload too. But nothing is working. And this gives me so much anxiety.

Anyways, he's a paramedic. So stupid me texted "Hey, does a vein close on it's own when you hold a towel around it?"

He answered right away: "Yeah, just do it tight"

My reply: "It doesn't stop"

Well, I knew I was basically lying here, but please understand that I really really needed to talk to someone after this, especially him because you know, I kinda "have feelings for him".

"Then try pressing harder on the wound" was his answer.

I didn't reply to it. I cut off conversations so fast.

He called a little later. I didn't know how to react. I was very happy to be honest. I really needed to talk. And the fact that he called means that he cared about me, right? Right? Please tell me I'm right...

We talked. I didn't exactly tell him what happened. Called it a "box cutter accident". He thought I cut again. I said no.

We had a conversation about other stuff. Not really conversation to be honest. I'm soooo socially awkward, especially around people I hold dear. There was silence. Lots of silence between our talks. I was asking all the questions.

"What did you do today". "Not much. Just work"

" What are you doing right now?" "playing a game" "what game" "Building cars"

You know, now that I'm reading through it and thinking about it this is a normal conversation? Maybe it's ignorant of me to expect anyone to ask questions? I don't know.

I genuinely don't know. I haven't talked to anyone face to face in a month.

I always have these conversations in my head that I had with a very very good friend that I met online. It wasn't sexual or anything, we just became very good friends.

But I won't talk about him right now. That would just make me sad again and put me in an even worse spot than I already am.

So I as still talking to my "fwb". We had better conversations before, we even talked twelve hours before until 8 am.

This one was... weird. I don't know. He seemed distant and so did I. There were minutes where we didn't say anything. So awkward.

Then I admitted that I did indeed cut again. I liked him too much ti keep it a secret. I wanted to be honest.

He didn't say anything. I knew he wasn't happy. So I decided not to say anything about my fucked up suicide attempt. I talked about depression with him before and I think he knows what's up. I told him about my cutting problem before because he asked me about the scars on my arms.

But he doesn't help to be honest. I don't expect him to. But it hurts me to see that he becomes more and more distant the more he finds out about me.

I always end up weirding people out. That's why stopped talking to them.

I couldn't take it anymore and decided to try again: "Did you ever do something that you regretted later?"

He was really annoyed and pissed off by that. I don't even know why. (The more I write this stuff the more I see that I don't know or understand 90% of the stuff happening around me and inside my head).

"Nothing?! What kind of question is this? Why would you ask something stupid like this"

I remained silent for a second.

"Nothing" he then said "I regret nothing"

I didn't ask any more questions and he hung up 5 minutes later.

I felt so empty. So stupid. I hoped that the call would make me feel better but it made everything worse.

I looked at my watch. Pretty much the only thing that I love wearing. It was 9 pm. Not even bedtime yet. I could study. Go running. Or even watch some youtube.

But what's the point?

Time will just drag on as I sink deeper into this feeling of emptiness the phone call has left behind, overthinking every little bit of it.

I decided to go to sleep. I was tired.

But not physically tired. It was more "bone -tired"

A tiredness that reaches way deeper.

I was always tired. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

This time I wasn't that tired actually. But I am addicted to the way sleep makes me feel. You feel nothing, and time flies by without you noticing.

I layed down on my sofa. I don't have a bed. My apartment is too small for it.

I hugged my pillow and why breathing in the fresh evening air while looking at the slowly setting sun outside my window. Moments like this put me at ease. Or at least my consciousness.

Deep inside me I always feel something going on. Something raging.

No matter how deep I wander into a forest. No matter how long I stare at the stars by the riverside at night. I can never fully rest. And it drives me insane.

Sometimes I feel like the silence makes it even worse. It makes the feeling clearer. It makes it louder. Nothing is distracting me from it. It makes it more painful.

By now the silence has become louder than any big city in the middle of the day.

Ever seen pictures of a huge wildfire? I feel like I'm trapped in one. I feel like something is screaming inside me, wanting to get out.

I feel so trapped in my own body.

I want to escape so bad but it's impossible to run from your own mind.

I can't put it into words. I can't even describe it. And this makes me so angry and frustrated. It makes the fire rage even more inside me.

I can't tell anyone. So I just want to write it down here.

Please help me.

I don't really want help, but I really felt like I needed to say this.

I took a deep breath. In... and out. Laying on my sofa. Not moving.

The blankets where so soft. I managed to wash and change them last week. That doesn't happen often to be honest.

The sun almost set. Only the last orange glows flooded the sky. The cool air felt so fresh and therapeutic too.

Silence surrounded me. A train passed by in the distance and a dog barked somewhere but that was pretty much all. I could feel myself falling asleep, slowly drifting away from this world.

That's why I love sleep. It makes me feel better, even if it's just for 2 minutes.

My consciousness finally left this world. Drifted off into the deep world of dreams and even the silence has finally become peaceful.