Hi, longtime lurker. Finally got the nerve to make an account and post for...help? I guess. Unconventional considering how we all seem to be here.
I won't waste your time. My life has been pure shit. I was born unwanted because of my genitals, bullied by peers and family, isolated, hit, molested, neglected, made to hate myself utterly, and by the time I was around 15 I had treatment resistant depression (though the depression started probably around 7 or 8). I started attempting suicide and self harming around 9.
I'm 23 now. I've graduated with honours in university, I have a wonderful partner. I've cut bad people out of my life. I've gotten medicated, and I know people would be sad if I killed myself.
I've done everything I was told to, but its still fucked up. The lifelong abuse left me with a laundry list of diagnoses including a personality disorder, PTSD (diagnosed shortly before I graduated highschool), physical disabilities, and to top it all off I was born autistic and never got a lick of help for it. I don't leave the house. I couldn't get a job even if I wanted to. I'm fat, utterly disgusting to look at, idiotic, and probably narcissistic.
I want to die so bad. Its all I want. I want the pain to stop, but I'm terrified. What if there is life after death? My biggest fear is, if ghosts are real, having to stay behind and watch everyone in my life be sad and then move on like I never existed. Watch them all have a happiness that I will never know. I know my existance is inconsequential and means nothing. But I'm scared.
I've wanted nothing more for my life than to be a successful writer. And the success is what I want because I don't want my suffering to mean nothing. Imagine making money, the scale of someone like Stephen King or JK Rowling, and being able to create nonprofits and grants to help research for different mental illnesses and put a roof over the head of a child who can't stay in their home because they're being abused. That's all I want to do in life. I want to leave the world better than I found it.
I've written multiple books so far, but anything I'd want published is still in the works. But I get these periods where it all feels like my writing is meaningless and bad, and that my plots suck. Everyone around me tells me they're good or even great, but they're all people in my family or my partner, so I know I can't trust that. I just want to live and be happy and be confident so I can reach my goals and make the world a better place. But at the same time, I just want the struggle to end. I want to rest. Life for me has been an uphill battle all the way.
I'm sorry for this long, rambly post, but I figured someone might have something to say. Or hell, maybe some advice. I don't know. I feel desperate and miserable.
I won't waste your time. My life has been pure shit. I was born unwanted because of my genitals, bullied by peers and family, isolated, hit, molested, neglected, made to hate myself utterly, and by the time I was around 15 I had treatment resistant depression (though the depression started probably around 7 or 8). I started attempting suicide and self harming around 9.
I'm 23 now. I've graduated with honours in university, I have a wonderful partner. I've cut bad people out of my life. I've gotten medicated, and I know people would be sad if I killed myself.
I've done everything I was told to, but its still fucked up. The lifelong abuse left me with a laundry list of diagnoses including a personality disorder, PTSD (diagnosed shortly before I graduated highschool), physical disabilities, and to top it all off I was born autistic and never got a lick of help for it. I don't leave the house. I couldn't get a job even if I wanted to. I'm fat, utterly disgusting to look at, idiotic, and probably narcissistic.
I want to die so bad. Its all I want. I want the pain to stop, but I'm terrified. What if there is life after death? My biggest fear is, if ghosts are real, having to stay behind and watch everyone in my life be sad and then move on like I never existed. Watch them all have a happiness that I will never know. I know my existance is inconsequential and means nothing. But I'm scared.
I've wanted nothing more for my life than to be a successful writer. And the success is what I want because I don't want my suffering to mean nothing. Imagine making money, the scale of someone like Stephen King or JK Rowling, and being able to create nonprofits and grants to help research for different mental illnesses and put a roof over the head of a child who can't stay in their home because they're being abused. That's all I want to do in life. I want to leave the world better than I found it.
I've written multiple books so far, but anything I'd want published is still in the works. But I get these periods where it all feels like my writing is meaningless and bad, and that my plots suck. Everyone around me tells me they're good or even great, but they're all people in my family or my partner, so I know I can't trust that. I just want to live and be happy and be confident so I can reach my goals and make the world a better place. But at the same time, I just want the struggle to end. I want to rest. Life for me has been an uphill battle all the way.
I'm sorry for this long, rambly post, but I figured someone might have something to say. Or hell, maybe some advice. I don't know. I feel desperate and miserable.
