I can’t believe I’m back here again, but it feels safe to type out how I feel I guess.
Recently, I’ve been in a bit of a mess, I started cutting my arm little by little and everyday I wanted to push it down more and then it would bleed more, I’d feel better and it’s such an urge I feel like it’s better than anything in the world. I wanted to do this originally to “practice” for a suicide. Sometimes I get to telling myself that my life is dirt compared to the lives of others, their live would be better without me, and then I start walking myself down this path of why am I so worthless? Was it that I wasn’t raised sternly enough, I was a sick baby and I had adhd as a kid, was my father too scary or maybe not scary enough. maybe I’m like this because of the divorce, mom always tries to baby me when I’m feeling like this and she doesn’t even know it all. When I told her that I felt nothing everyday since I graduated boot camp, how my family wasn’t there to hug me, I walked alone off the field while everyone else had someone there with them, but moms got work and dad and I, we don’t speak because (in my opinion) it feels like we both hurt each other pretty bad. Now I’m in a new chapter of my life, where I may not even be in the military anymore because I may have chronic motion sickness, which makes me non-deployable and they need guys like me to go out the minute something bad happens. I’ve only been in for 4months but I trained for 1 year, hoping to make this my career, now I’m scared, un motivated.
Currently, I stopped cutting, the wounds are healed and the scars are faint, nobody knows that I cut myself. Now everyday I get these urges, like I’m thirsty and I can taste blood in my mouth just looking at a knife and my arm, it’s the best feeling in the world but it’s the worst thing I could do to myself.
I don’t care that I’m serving a branch my country, a country is merely a slab of land with idiots on it, I wont kill a man if I don’t have to, but I know I could. This is a means to an end. Money is all that matters to me at this point.
I often go out late at night, hoping something maybe would happen, maybe a bear would come along and kill me or maybe I’ll get stabbed to death after being dragged into the dark alleys. But it never happens, and instead I see something so disgusting it makes me wanna puke me guys out… Love.
I hate the word itself, there’s no such thing as that special girl, if she existed then she would hate me, being the way I am. I hide how I normally feel with my coworkers but I slipped up recently, someone asked my why I joined and I said “to find purpose in my life I guess.” She wondered if it was a bs answer but I was telling the truth. The day before that, they all saw me, saying things like “why does he look so different, he looks sad, he looks angry. Like he’s gonna kill someone!” And I just plugged my headset in jammed to music and put a facemask on and shades, we were working with chemicals that day and the mask helped me take a break from smiling and acting weird.
They still look at me like I’m weird and I just try to shut up and lay low, leave whenever I’ve the time, nobody there really likes me I think. At some point I’ll get into trouble I’m sure. I’ve taken a fear of people, I have a room all to myself, it’s quiet and the bed is small, sometimes I feel lonely and everyone else has room mates 14-20 people in their rooms! I don’t even have a fan to make a sound. I do card tricks, that’s all I’m good for other than manual labor at this point. Most people tend to think its weird and I say “I don’t care what they think, I like the faces people make when they’re tricked and can’t figure it out!” Makes me feel like I’ve got a worth kind of, like im better than other people but that’s just a distraction, keeping my thoughts out the gloom until the day is done and I’m back in the room, back in the tiny bed staring at the ceiling that’s close to my face. When I shower my face always faces the corner because the shower head won’t turn and I like to think in a hot shower.
I think about what the hell I’m doing here and how I have nothing back at home to help me make something of myself, so I’m becoming a solider, hollow and void of feeling. I started questioning so many emotions I feel like are slipping away, people start to become scarier and scarier. the darkness of an alley, or a room all to myself seems like my kingdom. Music doesnt help all that much but it’s something. When I work out, I run and I run and run until my shins hurt, until everything hurts, so I can think about how far from my safe room I am, how cold it is outside and how much my body hurts, makes me feel better for some reason.
Love (puke), I don’t get it. You get a girl then she’s got you then trains you with her looks and expects that manly attitude that most rednecks have I guess, but I don’t have anything but looks for a girl. I’ve lost muscle mass but for some reason some girls just flock at me, just stay the hell away from me because it’s annoying now. It was nice once, having the attention and being smoothe, but now I don’t know what to do, I feel like I’m empty everyday and looking a couple holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes, laughing and buying each other gifts, it makes me sick how happy they can be. I’m young I could meet the women of my life tomorrow, but when I think about that, I think about how much of myself needs fixing how it feels like that’ll take a lifetime, maybe I’m too messed up now, because I get goofy then I’m into the morbid stuff so casually. I don’t get it, I’m not making fun of when people die or how, I just speak my mind. Like how people kill babies, once I talked about how people kill babies and kittens and I saw the look on everyone’s face, they all must’ve felt something and I caused it, but I didn’t feel it. It just easily came out like, well like speaking lol. I realized I had gone too far and somebody made a joke out of it. People, things, whatever it is that has life dies later on, more reason for me to embrace the lady with skeleton arms And a hood. I like to think that death and I are close, it’s all I think about sometimes, I like to think that my death probably young and beautiful, hoping she’ll get older with me and embrace me when I’m sagging to the floor. Death isn’t ugly, it is what it is. I like to think that when I move, it’s my mind inside this lump of meat that tells it what to do. When I get hurt it does hurt but it helps to think “Thats only a cut itll heal, I didn’t lose a finger or an eye, it’s not like my mind.” My body is just a vessel for the mind, the mind isn’t that much better either.
I’ve been questioning my identity, who am I anyways? I’m your average working man right? Wrong, I’m below average, a simple tool to be tossed aside, I work until I’m no longer needed, then I just need to survive until I find someplace that needs me. My name seems silly to even have, that should be the name of a tool if I am one. The mind is like a house full of weird pictures, and it’s got the creaky wooden floors too. School was the same as this, treated like nothing and bottling up everything. The next picture says my family life isn’t so great, we’re all split up now, we were kind of close and there’s moments that scar me and some others that are nice. The last one is now and it’s just the messiest one, like someone mixed a bunch of blood and gray coloring and threw it all over a canvas. I get into fights with myself when I’m alone, I tell myself I’m not worth it and then I tell myself that I have to be my own motivation, my own man character not some minor character. But when I fight my fears and doubts, I feel hurt agian, in my chest. I start to breathe quick and heavy, and it’s hard to hide. Everyday I feel like I’m a fat monster wearing a mans skin as a costume, everyday I feel like the skin tears up and I have to patch it up before somebody sees it.
Again, (puke) love. What is that anyways? Something that gets us up out of bed with a REAL smile on our faces, makes us buy a homeless man a sandwich. Makes us dance and sing, and do crazy stupid s***, not like I need love to do crazy stupid s***. I feel like I’m trying to run away from her, where ever she maybe, if she (the one) ever saw me, she would hate me, she would and I know she would because everyone, it feels like they hate me or at least they’re not enjoying my company. I have to slip away from them, from people, so I don’t get hurt, I don’t care about hurting others, but their words hurt a lot sometimes, or maybe it’s just annoying. I wonder if she’d say some hurtful things, her expression would be like the rest, sneering at me like an angry dog. I don’t need her stupid “training” that every guy seems to get, you all can be tamed by the damn p****. That’s another thing, s** isn’t anything to me, it’s just some added in bonus if you call it one. Pleasure for awhile then it’s back to reality dumbshit, and I know guys who don’t play “v***** says…” And they still get the girl, I don’t understand it, woman aren’t bad, they’re beautiful and they can say nice things sometimes but I just don’t believe that there’s a woman my age or slightly younger/older that could handle me. It’s just not a thing lol. this has gone on for a while!(this confession)
I don’t like the idea of being in a relationship right now or ever, but it’s weird I’ve always to meet that special, beautiful girl, virtuous, kind, not really pushy, a crazy f***** goof, and I guess faithful. Someone who would wrap her arms around me for once and would let me cry with her, let me help her as she helps me.
But people like that don’t exist, a pretty woman isn’t stupid, she can get whatever she wants and the guy is always willing and she knows. She could string me up like the rest, look into my eyes and try to say sweet things. What’s the use huh? I’m no man can’t you see, I’m still just a boy, but a tool aswell. A tool for anyone. I’m the door mat, the “friend”, counselor for a girl’s guy problems, the passerby, a face that’s forgotten. So I can’t trust people too well, I’m a good actor for the most part though. And when a girl comes along I’ll just leave and hope she isn’t the one who cares, because that’ll give me hope. False hope can lead to a lot of pain for both sides, she can’t see me like this. I’ve got to run away and cut corners and lie to family about how I’m doing, lie to the people I call my “friends” while they talk about me like I’m a window. Lie to the girl that I meet, saying that I’m ok, that im not different, that I’m just like you and I just have to get to this place, or maybe I’m late for something important. She’ll get tired, leave, then I’m home free again. But what is freedom anyways, it’s just an illusion, another opportunity to get your a** set on some new road fully of more lies, and bad choices, a pathetic career, no love life, and maybe some years shaved off of my head. I’m think 45 is a good age to go, it’s young, but kind of old, not to the point where it’s too sad. Maybe I’ll die tomorrow, maybe my coworkers will find out about who I really am, then things will get interesting. There’s nothing really for me to lose and when the pain comes, I can face my mother coming to grips with that her son isn’t really her son anymore, my father may be dead already or maybe he’ll be glad I’m dead if he gets the news. I’m sure that everyone I work with will feel better. I sure the lovely lady of my would-be life would get married and fucked by a “real man”. Doesn’t matter to me anymore, nothing really matters, just Heaven or Hell, or maybe I get to repeat this nightmare all the f*** over again. Maybe God is even looking at me saying “now so and so, thou shalt not kill thy self” or maybe “of all the souls in Heaven, you were always the worst, the one I almost kicked out but I’m God and I love you.” God couldn’t love me, look at who I am God, look at your creation and see that it has failed you along with everything else you’ve made because I am not even worth it. Just a sack of meat and blood and sad little mind and a soul that hides in the dark areas where blood and thought reach, safe.
Who am I, I’m nobody. Just some guy walking himself through the same routine of.. Well whatever this is.
Everyday feels like that, like I’m nothing and I have a terrible pain in my chest and I wear a mask so no one can see it so they won’t bother. I’m so f****** different from every single person I meet, I don’t seem to fit in with any group anywhere I go! Everyday I feel like I’m fighting this feeling, trying to be stronger, I wonder if that will work in the end. I’m just some guy, your average joe kind of. If you ever meet me, I’ll be the one to say to you “I’m a psychotic maniac, looking for purpose in his life.” And I hope I see the same face that everyone else makes, so I can stay comfortably numb to feeling of that face, that atmosphere, the awkwardness and the feeling of everyone’s eyes stabbing you like a damn knife. I hope you call me a loser, a nobody. I hope you get to see what it’s like to meet someone like me, I dont know anyone else who wants to die so badly, yet at the same I’m clinging to life like there’s something still there. It’s that side of myself that slowly dying, he’s holding on to a shield while he’s made fun of, he’s holding onto the cliff that lurks over a pit of nothing but void and certain death. And I’m holding onto his ankles, yanking him to let go, pushing away the shield and yelling at him to just wake up! But he doesn’t speak to me, he just smiles and holds on, and I want to cry and punch that person and scream “wwhy!” Why bother trying anymore, nobody besides our mother will really miss us and even then, she’ll get over it, she’s a strong woman. I love you, that’s all I want to say to her before I go, for being so gentle. I’m her only stupid son, isn’t that sad. I’m gonna be gone she’ll sad oh god. Why does she have to be in my mind, without her, this stupid would stop smiling and let go of everything for good. Stupid.
I’m finely breaking down, that’s nice. It’s hard to see while I type. I’m wondering what I’m even doing, how can this make me feel safe. It’s just words. And hope is an illusion, just like pain, and nothingness is all that’s there now. I just feel empty and I wish I had her, that special woman in my life, she could meet mom and they’d get along great. I would do anything for this woman, I don’t care if she trained me, just so long as she stayed. But I’m weird lol. I fee like I just don’t belong yaknow? I’m told that nothing is ever so bad that I should hurt myself or kill myself, I feel like that was just to get my hopes up. I don’t know.anyways, thanks for reading, have a good morning!