Nowhere Else to Turn
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29-05-2013, 05:03 AM
Nowhere Else to Turn
I'm writing this only because this is the one last means of expression I have. This forum. In recent weeks, I've become increasingly disenchanted with this place, and yet on this early morning, I find it is the only way in which I can actually vent my frustrations to the world. Merely the knowledge that someone, somewhere out there will hear my please is the only real comfort it will bring. My words will be blunt and my thoughts will be jumbled. But that's just how my mind is working today.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know why I keep treading onward. I'm sitting here; crying tears I thought I had left out there in the fields no more than half an hour ago. For some time, a cancer (of the metaphorical sort) has been festering within me almost entirely without my knowledge. I guess I was forcing it away so that I could continue to be happy. I do love her, and I love when she can make me smile. BUt there's an evil that's been building within me and I can't take the pressure anymore. It's not my evil; it's an evil working against me. I save my evil for Friday nights with a cold beer and episodes of Dexter. But this evil is from the outside, and it seeks to devour me. I was sucessful in pushing it away from my mind until it made itself manifest in a dream perhaps 2 nights ago. My days have been erratic and I've lost track of the passing of time as a result. But it was quite recently. A dream which wasn't merely a fantastical representation of my most irrational fears; it was rather a reminder. A reminder of things I've tried so desperately to repress.

I've been distant these past couple of days as a result. Lost in thought and pouring over the images and facts which constitute the cognitive portion of my reality. I've pushed away friends and family. For even my own live-in sister, I put on an act. A facade of contentment when in reality I am anything but. So in an effort to evade my reality, tonight I went for a long walk. It would have otherwise been a drive, but my car is currently in the shop. Even so, I needed to get away. Taking my gun with me - for fear of recent bear activity - I set out into the early morning twilight in an attempt to find solitude. But as is eternally the case, my mind was by my side for the duration of the trek. No one can run from their reality. No one can run from their own mind.

As I walked, my music blasting loudly into my ears, I tried and tried and tried to force the thoughts from my mind. The pains of my current state of existence. But try as I might, the demons within my head would simply not let up. They jabbed and slashed at my brain and the backs of my eyes and forced their way into the forefront of my mind. I felt tears welling up and a desperate plea attempt to escape my lips to please, please make this stop. Make me stop caring. Someone. Anyone. If there is a god or a spirit being or even a benevolent sense of cosmic energy out there; please let it come upon me and stop this horrific suffering. Stop the clacking and scratching of demonic fingernails upon the inside of my skull.

But reason assured that the gods would remain silent, and as I stared up at the brightly-shining Moon sitting behind the hazy clouds, I realized that there is no escape. No hope. I am immersed within a reality which I cannot easily escape and I have not a single person to whom I can cling for comfort. There exists no such person.

And with that realization, I could not help myself but to succumb to the flow of tears which had been building like a reservoir behinnd the dam of my eyes. It was still quite dark and most of the people from my corner of the neighborhood had already departed for work, but even still, I didn't care if anyone saw. I stumbled to the side of the road; through the grass and collapsed against the wooden fence meant to contain a neighbor's horses. In the chilly breeze, I sat against the fence and cried. For a long time, I thought I was no longer capable of crying, but since meeting her, I find that my heart has softened and emotions have once against sprouted up from the toxic soil of my soul. And so I cried. I don't know how long I sat there, but I cried until my larynx was sore and my cheeks sticky with the drying torrent of saltwater. Having spent my energy on the pathetic sobbing, I realized that nothing had changed. My reality was still real. I was still living within it. The demons were still there; smiling maliciously as they glared at me in my beaten-down state.

I wondered for a moment if a bear might walk out of the woods with a pair of cubs. I wondered if she might immediately see me as a threat and seek to eradicate me. But this brought yet another realization to my mind. Why bother with a bear when I have a gun?

I have had suicidal encounters in the past. I have considered at length the act of self-termination and, on one occasion, I sought with determination to carry it out - only to undergo a change of heart at the last moment. This time, I remembered the gun was there, and a feeling came over me. Even now, I don't know what this feeling was. Despair? Comfort? Some sort of unrecognizable cobination of the two? I don't know. But whatever it was, it swept over me like a blanket and I once more began to sob. I imagined the gun itself. I pictured the sleek blackness of the slide and the sights; glowing like little green orbs in the darkness of the morning. I "contemplated the mechanism of my mortal departure", as I said in my other thread. And suddenly I felt a sensation within my mouth; the overwhelming urge to clamp my teeth down onto the steel slide until they shattered and pulling the trigger until my blood and brains and skull fragments exploded across the fence behind me. A strange part of me wanted to be alive to kill myself even more. To live through the first bullet and scream out in pure rage as I pulled the trigger over and over; unloading the entirety of the magazine into my skull. I wanted to completely destroy myself and then die along with my body; there on the side of the road with the rest of the horse shit.

But I didn't do it. Obviously, because I'm here now relaying all of this to whoever gives enough of a fuck to listen. But god dammit it was difficult to resist doing it. I wanted to. I wanted to feel the steel breaking my teeth. I wanted to hear the bang ring out in my ears and I wanted to smell the gunpowder filling my nose. I wanted to destroy myself in a moment of pure, brutal outlash. I wanted someone to come along and find me. I wanted them to be horrified and traumatized by my dead body. Not out of any malice for them personally, but because in that moment, I wanted destruction. I wanted to give a massive middle finger to the world and, even more so, to my own existence. I wanted the police to come and contemplate why someone would have wanted to shoot themselves there on the side of the road. I wanted the papers to detail who I was and how I met my demise. I wanted certain people out there to happen upon the report of my death, and as if from beyond the grave, I wanted to stand before them with my arms out to my sides in defiance of their wish for me to still be alive. I wanted this so fucking badly that I could literally feel it within my limbs, and had to clench my fists to fight the urge to grab the gun and make it a reality.

I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. I wake up every morning to face another day of mental and emotional torment. I would liken it to a soldier being subjected to the stresses of combat on a day to day basis. Every day they wake up in a hostile and alien land; their senses constantly searching for any sign of attack. Will the enemy be behind the next tree? Or will I tread my tired bones through the woods for miles without ever encountering anyone? The soldier doesn't know. He can't know. But he must remain alert. And that alertness, in time, will begin to wear on his mind.

Every fucking day I wake up and have to wonder what my life is going to be next. And I just don't know what the fuck to do anymore. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep going through days upon weeks of contentment, only to be plunged back into the horrific depths of despair. I can't keep smiling my fake smiles to those around me so that they won't have to suffer too. I need, desperately, to scream out at the top of my lungs, but I know that even if somebody happens to hear me, they'll likely be unable to help. I don't know if I want to die. But I know damn well that I don't want to fucking live. I feel like a corpse draped in human skin. Rotting and decrepit and morbid inside, but alive and well on the outside. I can't bring myself to trust anyone enough to get close. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't. And anyone who has ever tried has only made the problem worse. No matter what I do, I am completely alone and nobody can help me. Maybe a part of me doesn't want them to. But if I'm putting down the gun, and if I'm writing things such as this, am I not still crying out for help? Is it that I truly don't want help, or is it that I'm so fucking angry at myself and my life that I've convinced myself that I don't want help out of defiance?

"You don't want help, you stupid fuck, you're not worth help and they're not worth letting them help you. Fuck them, and fuck you. Just die. Die and get it the fuck over with. Fuck your movies. Fuck your books; fuck your dream of having a daughter, fuck Ashley, fuck your future and fuck you. Die, bitch."

So loudly the voic screams in my head, and so hard the tears fall as I write it. But they're not sad tears; they're angry tears. What does that mean? Is there an unholy war being waged within me? One side attempting to slaughter me to the point of death, and the other side clinging desperately to life? Who is winning? And how long until the other loses?

I'm not lying and I'm not being an "emo" when I say that death comforts me. Death is an end to everything. The contentment I've never been fully allowed to grasp and the misery which has pervaded my soul since I can remember. I find comfort in the idea of cold, musty, quiet solitude. But is it me I'm trying to escape? Or is it the world? I can't tell you how badly I want this world to vanish and leave me to fend for myself. The idea of a post-apocalyptic wasteland has been a focus of many a breezy Summer afternoon's daydream for me. No bustling cities, no assholes going about their worthless lives, no nothing. Nothing but me and the crumbling remains of a civilization that once was. I would sit atop a car roof and overlook the sunset which glows orange just for me. I would be without care or worry. Nothing to subject my mind to the horrors of my current reality.

But that is nothing more than fantasy. It will never become a reality. I am here and now, and I am living this nightmare. A member of the walking dead who has yet to even die. And nobody can understand. Sure, YOU may understand, my dear reader, but then again, you may not. And even if you understand my state of mind, you will not understand the circumstances which have put me there. In my circumstances and mindset, I am entirely alone. I've tried letting people in. I've tried to get them to understand. But as I said, they've only made it worse. I realize that they mean well, and they don't "mean" to hurt me, but hurt me they do. They cannot help it, and I cannot help it. I simply don't know what to do anymore. I'm curious to see my future. It's a future I've imagined all of my childhood. Grown though I may be, I still have plenty to experience and see. And I really am curious to see how it will all play out. But in times like these, I simply don't care. In times like these, my future can be likened to the surface of some distant planet. Sure, I am immensely curious to see a rover land upon its surface and reveal a hidden landscape, but I'll probably never be around when that happens. My potential kids probably won't even be around. So as curious as I may be, a part of me accepts that circumstances may not allow it. Much the same can be said of my future. I am curious to see it, and yet, I am becoming ever-more accepting of the fact that, perhaps my circumstances simply don't allow for a future.

I find this thought sprouting up in my mind more and more, and it's becoming more difficult to ignore. The only thing which keeps me clinging to that next "precious" second, minute, hour, day; is the sheer curiosity of what may come next. What lies around the corner for me? I don't really give a fuck, but what happens if I endure this immense suffering for another second or two? Will it let up? Will it get worse? Maybe just clench the teeth a bit tighter, hold on just one more second, and maybe something will change. Maybe I'll find contentment around the next corner. Maybe something will brighten my existence; if I only hold on just another second. The seconds have been mounting, and I'm still here; clinging desperately to the next second to come. But I'm running out of strength. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I don't know how much longer I can cling to sheer, morbid curiosity as to what next shitty turn my life will take.

Again, maybe nobody here understands this. And if they do, it will be of little comfort. Having your leg hacked off with a saw isn't made somehow into a more sufferable experience because others have had their legs hacked off as well. The blade still stings against the exposed nerve endings and its teeth still grind into the bone. It's still a pain you'd give anything to escape - if you could.

The truth is that I can. I know how. I have the means. Even if you took my gun(s) away, there are a plethora of other options at my disposal. At even the bare minimum; one can sever his own tongue within his mouth and bleed into his own throat. It's a task who's true potential I realize fully. And yet here I remain. Clinging desperately to the next second; hoping like hell that it's something worth waiting for. And admitedly, sometimes it is. Sometimes a beam of sunshine comes along an illuminates my existence. Sometimes it does so at length and with intensity. But more often than this, my existence is cast in a dreary fog. Such intervals outweigh the futile, fleeting comforts life may occasionally provide.

I've said it a million times already, but I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know if I should keep waiting for the next moment. I just don't know.

If there be a god, he is without mercy.

Through profound pain comes profound knowledge.
Ridi, Pagliaccio, sul tuo amore infranto! Ridi del duol, che t'avvelena il cor!
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29-05-2013, 05:16 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
For the record, I don't want do-gooders going about trying to pull strings behind the scenes to send help for Miso. I promise you; you will be doing more harm than good. My willpower and strength - dwindling though they may be - are what keep me alive. They are what pull me out of the mud and back onto my feet.

This is nothing more than expression. My life is mine.

Through profound pain comes profound knowledge.
Ridi, Pagliaccio, sul tuo amore infranto! Ridi del duol, che t'avvelena il cor!
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29-05-2013, 05:33 AM (This post was last modified: 29-05-2013 05:39 AM by HU.Junyuan.)
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Well, I can't say that I feel your pains. But I am here trying to alleviate them and help you feel better.

We all, similar to you, will one day become feelingless gatherings of molecules and atoms, become part of the earth again. Unlike us, you might have a shorter time to fulfill yourself and get prepared for that moment. So you feel very very anxious, because there's so much more you want to feel and experience, so many good things.

And now you might have noticed that it is irrational in the last few paragraphs of your post that you think of those methods which actually make your time even less, instead of more.

Yet what you've written is in fact quite also rational: to make up for the time you might have lost, you increased the intensity of your emotions, but to a level you are almost not able to endure consciously.

So here I provide you an alternative: you can try quality instead of intensity, i.e., if you can, feel fulfilled, relaxed and comfortable. Now that you are on the bottom, the worst has just happened, is it possible that you can feel a little better? How practically can you feel a little better? Do it. And then how well does that work? Then ask these three questions again and you will be on your way back to comfort zone. After all, under such circumstances, and for the moment, you are still the person in charge. As anxious, or a little relaxed, you are free to choose, and both are OK.

I hope these can help a little.

Want something? Then do something.
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29-05-2013, 05:36 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
What can anybody say?

I would say that the voices in your head, they are not separate from yourself however are a fraction of your "Identity" that have been put into place by circumstance and events. They have manifested recently in your dream from a few days ago as it has been bubbling around your sub-conscious.

Killing yourself is an option (not a good one in my eyes) because it wields the ultimate amount of control and power that no fucker can take away from you. Its a way of expressing yourself that nobody will ever understand. Its a cry for help, to end the torment and to show everybody how fucking tired you are of this place and the shit that life has thrown you.

I could be wrong Miso (I am most of the time) but it sounds like you are carrying guilt for something? Whatever caused it is irrelevant and there is no "answer" other than the one YOU resolve to giving yourself. Do you really deserve this guilt? Do you want it? Caus their aint no fucking god in the clouds judging any of us, only we can judge ourselves. Only YOU can judge yourself.

Whatever it is dude I hope you can sort it out. We all deserve "peace" in our lifes.

For no matter how much I use these symbols, to describe symptoms of my existence.
You are your own emphasis.
So I say nothing.

-Bemore.
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29-05-2013, 05:40 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
don't discount the power of a good cry.

http://www.tranquilityisyours.com/cry.html

sent you a pm.


"Life is a daring adventure or it is nothing"--Helen Keller
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29-05-2013, 07:25 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Your story reminds me of why I see a therapist and take anti-depressants. My wish for you is that you could find your way to peace. As far as I know, it never happens over-night (despite what the Christees would have you believe). My therapist reminds me every few months: it took a very long time to reach my place of absolute despair. It will probably take me a long time to reach personal contentment. But in my version of the tale, I'm finding that things do get better. My wish for you is you'll hang around long enough to also learn that things do get better. My wish for you is that you'll see the reality that this is not the only place to turn. There are means available that will help you. Yes. Even you. But they only work when you make the decision to make them work. My wish for you is that you would decide to explore the route to help and mental health.

It was just a fucking apple man, we're sorry okay? Please stop the madness Laugh out load
~Izel
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29-05-2013, 08:12 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Sent you a message Miso...A

I'm not anti-social. I'm pro-solitude. Sleepy
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29-05-2013, 08:40 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
At 53 I feel like I have lived 5 very distinct lives. These periods in my life, while they are obviously all part of the same lifetime, are as different from one another as if they were lived by different people.

I tell you this because in one of my past periods my life had turned black, hopeless and painful. In the intervening years since then I have thought of how much I would have missed had it all ended then. Looking back the experience transformed me in ways that still surprise me and have given me a perspective that makes this period of my life much, much sweeter.

FC

“I am quite sure now that often, very often, in matters concerning religion and politics a man’s reasoning powers are not above the monkey’s.”~Mark Twain
“Ocean: A body of water occupying about two-thirds of a world made for man - who has no gills.”~ Ambrose Bierce
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29-05-2013, 09:21 AM (This post was last modified: 29-05-2013 09:43 AM by smidgen.)
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
I know don't you and you don't know me but I've been where you are. Everyday looking for a new way to die. Everyday crossing a river to go to work and thinking of all the points of entry where know would see me drive and just float away and drowned. Wondering away, taking pills ect, ect, ect..... till I had access to my ex husbands gun, cheap lock box, tore it open with my tiny bare womanly hands without even a key. Semi automatic hand gun, bullets in the clip and in the chamber, lock off.... My only problem was that him and and his new whore found me before I could complete the job and they said either I go with them to the hospital or they would call an ambulance and it would be forced upon me. So I went and found myself in a locked room in the er for a day and a half without a pot to piss in, they wanted to take my clothes and I would not allow them. While the ex and the whore looked a laughed then left me there all alone...... The only thing that kept me, personally, alive at this time of my life was an adult son who survived the Iraq war as service to his country and all I could do was think about taking his mother away from him....... Those days are somewhere between 5 and 10 years behind me and I am living proof that people like us can find happiness. And I did not find it in the arms of any other living creature other than my own. There is no man in my life I had to do it for me and me alone. It was long and it was hard and I never fought for anything harder in my entire life. But when I look back today it's all this big blur. 25 years or so of wanting to die every single day. Going back to my life as a teen all the way into my 40's. But you know what. I am now the strongest person I have ever been. I am happy with myself for the first time in my life. Pills and therapy helped at first but I found that the best therapy ever on the face of this planet is out there where the bears are. I have no fear of them or desire their attack but nature is the best therapist on the face of planet earth. I started with the cheapest hiking gear I could find, even shopping at the thrift stores but I found a transformation begin to happen. And for the first time in my life it was a transformation into something good. It's a feeling that I can not even put into words. I go out into the woods, just me and my camera and I become lost in the beauty of it all. And today all of my searches are for new beauties of nature. I new trail, waterfall, mountain, wildflower........ and it has transformed my mind into something beautiful. I only started this four years ago and everyone that I know could see the change even before I could. It was almost like magic, if you believe in that kind of stuff. I just know it worked for me. And before I would have been the one taking bets on the fact that I would have been long dead by now of my own hand. But lucky for my loving son I was brave enough to reach out for hands of help. Even though forced on me at first it was still finally my call to go forward or back into the hole that I came from. I now lend that hand to you. You can reach out and accept my hand or crawl back in your hole. And it does not have to even be my hand it could be any hand that offers. But it is your choice and yours alone. I don't know where on this planet you are, did not bother to check your profile, but I have words that show up on your screen and I have a phone by my side. It's you that must make the first step.
Love and Hugs, Wendy [/u]

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29-05-2013, 09:35 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Life feels dark, lonely and unbearably cold. For me, tears come when there is a complete loss of control; when the realization that I'm impotent to effect a change slams against and it's overwhelming.

The feelings don't really last forever, but they feel like they do -- some are without end but in time coping becomes easier.

Hug

You are really never alone tho. I'm not talking about an invisibile sky daddy...but real people who care about you and want to help.


God is a concept by which we measure our pain -- John Lennon

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