random thoughts

Last Sunday

So last Sunday, I woke up at 12PM. The day before, I had contacted the suicide hotline and they saved my day where I decided not to take too much sleeping pills.

But that sunday, I decided that I felt ultimately crappy and I grabbed a knife and started cutting myself until I bled. There were a lot of scars that was going to be there for a while. I remember that while doing it, I felt extremely good. I really, really liked it. I liked the pain. I had cut before but I never bled. But this time I did. And I felt like i made a piece of art. This thought scared me.

So at 6PM i decided to go to sleep since I have to do something important at work the next day. I took too many sleeping pills. I was able to be knocked out. My body felt limp, but my brain was still active. I woke up every hour. I wasn’t able to walk straight. One hour I woke up and I just fell to the ground because I couldn’t feel my legs. And I stumbled to get up. I felt nauseaous. I didnt know if i was going to feel ok the next morning. I considered calling 911, but didn’t because I was scared.

I don’t know how, but by 8AM i was able to stand up and i was functioning normally. Normally as in, I still had panic attacks but I was able to walk and talk, and that was enough for me.

I had never felt so scared in my life.

I am now looking at the after math of my cutting. Here I am, a girl who is afraid of even a single drop of blood, cut myself multiple times, and thinking how I am going to tell my therapist. I did this. I cut MYSLEF. I did it. How and why? I don’t know how i got to this point.

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random thoughts

Explaining my hiatus

I feel like I just have to write this for my own purposes because I’ve honestly just been feeling so lost and no longer have any idea on how to cope. So here goes.

Drawing has always been my way of expressing myself, to escape from the world. I’ve always used drawing as a to cope with depression and anxiety. I was actually creating instead of destroying myself. It gives me stuff to look forward to, like “oh hey I can’t wait to study what things in different lighting conditions look like” or “I can’t wait to draw this thing from my favorite anime tomorrow after I get home from work.” As bullshit as it sounds, drawing gave me purpose and a reason to keep moving no matter how monotone my life had become.

Unfortunately, that fact doesn’t hold up anymore. In fact, drawing, on most days, make me feel even worse. Mostly because my insecurities creep up more than usual these days. Whenever I finish a drawing, so many thoughts come up. Mostly negative. Like, “you didn’t do the anatomy right,” “you color like a fucking idiot,” “you should’ve drawn it like this one artist”, “you deserve all the hate,” or “people say good things to you only because they’re sorry for you”. So I took breaks. But the thoughts then turn into “you’re a lazy fuck, you can’t do anything other than being useless”. It’s just an endless cycle of negative thoughts whenever I do ANYTHING, and I just couldn’t handle it.

Whenever I look at my old drawings, I feel jealous. Because I used to be so happy whenever I draw. Because I never really thought about any thing much other than just having fun. But now I can’t help but equate my self-worth to the amount of likes I get. There are many times where I’m like “oh yay i love this drawing I made” but then it doesn’t get that many likes so then I end up hating the thing I was proud of making.

I have people who follow my work. But I am too insecure to realize that it’s a good thing, not a bad thing. Most days, I just feel a lot of pressure about needing to keep up with my follower’s expectations and that I have to make sure that they like it or that I need to post regularly and on time. The people who follow my work, they are extremely wonderful. But since I have a shitty brain, I always think that their nice comments/DMs are just so that I don’t feel bad about myself, and that they clearly don’t mean it seriously. Not just online, I always believe that people who say good things about me are just lying. So, no matter how much and how often I receive good feedback, it won’t change anything because they mean nothing to me. Which makes me feel like a piece of shit because people actually took the time to say those things to me. Plus I feel so irresponsible for throwing away all the work I’ve put in for these past few years.

Then I’ve come to realize that my stress in drawing really has nothing to do with drawing. I’ve just become disinterested in things. I can’t watch movies, can’t read books, can’t scribble. Literally the only thing that keeps me busy now is going on 9gag.com and scrolling through the same memes over and over again trying to laugh out all my problems. I take sleeping pills and some nights I take too much on purpose because I honestly just wanna die. I don’t look forward to anything else in life because nothing has meaning anymore. Sure, when I die, some people are going to be sad. But I’ll give it 5 years tops and they’ll forget about me. Even if they don’t, everyone I know is going to die in 60 years anyway. Nothing will matter after that. So what difference does it make if I die today?

tl;dr: I just want to disappear. I don’t want anyone to notice me. I don’t want anyone to know that I had existed. I don’t want anyone to remember me. And it’s funny that nothing anyone say will change me. The only person who can change me is me, but i don’t know how.

random thoughts

ok so this online article told me to list good things about myself so i’m going to do it

Nothing.

FUCKING TRY HARDER

alright, alright.. That was the instinctual answer.. I’ll try harder.

  1. I attempt to work hard at least
  2. I don’t try to hate people
  3. I am interested in other people’s beliefs, like i want to know what its like from their perspective
  4. i can play piano i guess.
  5. i draw things
  6. I still wake up in the mornings to fulfill my work responsibilities
  7. i walk places

literally i can’t say anything good about myself without being so timid about it. fuck. on the other hand it’s so easy to list the bad stuff.

random thoughts

The only thing making me feel this way is myself

I am my worst critic. I am my own demon. If the devil exists, I am so sure that it is my inner critic. She ruins my life, tells me I’m not good enough, tells me that no matter how good  I am, i will never be good enough. plain and simple. She tells me that i have no meaning, tells me that everybody hates and is better off without me. tells me that being happy/content is not going to get me anywhere, so stop being happy. you shouldn’t look forward to being happy. you should fear happiness. she tells me to kill myself 24/7. whenever i try to push her deep down, she always comes back somehow. and she convinces me that i need her because being too happy isn’t good. she tells me to binge eat but then tells me to hate myself for it. she tells me to do dumb things based on emotions and then hits me in the head for it. i can never win.

She is there wherever i go.

random thoughts

Am I blaming depression for my problems?

This past week I’ve been trying to push myself to draw. But i couldn’t do much. Yesterday I did some stuff. But nothing special. Just black and white kind of things. I’ve been wanting to be more productive but nothing is working. i keep finding myself just lying down on my bed in the middle of the day. And that just make me feel useless.

Although, I decided to watch this anime haikyu and it’s giving me a bit of adrenaline to make me forget depression a little bit. But then whenever i finish watching i always just fall back to the depression state without fail.

I duno, i just feel like an utter failure for everything. i am not drawing. i am not proud of myself at workk, i feel useless to my friends and family. i feel useless to myself. the fact that i keep telling myself that im not good enogh and that i should kill mysef isnt really helping either. i just feel like an utter failure. and in the midst of everything i keep remembering my past cringy moments and i just want to slap myself ver and over again.

i just think about when, if ever, i would have control over my anxiety and depression to the point where even if i were experiencing them at the moment, i could still go about my day. but really, i haven’t been doing much. really, am i just blaming depression for my evident laziness?

Iv ebeen so anxious whenever i think about my family. about what i can do. abotu how they think of me. Why do i still care about what they think of me though? I hate my aunt so much to the point where i would celebrate her funeral. if her funeral ever came. when will it come though? I have zero respect for them. i shouldn’t be caring about what they think of me. if anything, i don’t want to do what they do because they are the kind of people i don’t want to be. they belittle others and everything. its a lot of hate. and i cannot handle it.

i just want to cry but i cant. i am not sad. just so anxious. what am i going to do after this? i really cannot accomplish anything so what am i going to do? nothing more than a failure and i am weak. i am just too stubborn to stop. i keep going but the roads keep diverging and i have no fucking idea where i am. not even sure if the road will ever converge. hoping that it will would be a miracle. i have no idea.

i think about death a lot. like how everything would be much better without me. the world would still go on its day without me. so why go on at all? i don’t have purpose anymore anyways. i am anxious about everything. more anxious about everything more than usual, as a matter of fact. i freaked out over a falling leaf thinking it was a dead bird. my imagination is just everywhere. i take things too far too quickly in my head, and it really does nothing but destroy me. it’s not great.