Allez-vous, SVP. On why I'm not to be saved.,,,,

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It's this massively sickening feeling of loneliness and guilt. That's what I keep under my skin rather than blood and bones. I know one feeds, propagates the other into what I am right now. Or how I've been for the past week. Or so. It's a mixed state.

I've embarrassed my friend when I'm manic. Hurt her in a public manner. Worse yet, I was unaware until we fought about it.

And then I've been here, in this space of being, which isn't much. I hear again.and.again that I don't live my life. I don't want to. I hate everything that I must be with all the time. I despise the way I look. The shape of my legs or my nose or waist. My hands are too large and I'm masculine. My consuming thoughts aren't to be taken kindly, either. 6 billion people in the World. One wants to spend time with me.

Part deux: The guilt.
I hurt people and steal their happiness only to suffocate it with my self. I'm miserable to stand. I'm selfish and dependent. I'm all of the wrong things. I ruin the details of the lives of those closest to me. If you care for me then I hurt you. I don't want you to care for me. Self preservation, please. You'll read and I'll depress your mood. I'll hurt you and I don't know you.

Isn't there to be some consideration about quality of life? If I'm in an auto accident and I can't breathe on my own, I can ask not to be saved. Why is this different? My mind can't continue. I want my DNR. It's my life to take and I'll be helping yours as well. Everyone’s.

Leave me, yes? It will hurt less the sooner you do it. I'm going to wear you out after a lifetime of this. Go now, please. I'm almost alone so I can go easily. I’ve disconnected all of my friends for their safety.

My thighs and wrists and arms are cut to bits. They have been for five years. It's not that I lack the words to express my feelings. Words don't do justice to the discomfort with living I have. Just like 'love' isn't enough to describe the other.



It's not right to be like this. Comfort is in escape and that's what I'll go when everything is tied up. Don't try to help. I'll ruin you too.

Make me sane.
Make me normal.
Make me beautiful.
Make me a good person.
Make me stop hurting.
Make me stop hurting others.
Makeme/letme go.

Here's what you need to be told: Do something to better yourself, period. No second choice. Just do it.

Hey friend,

Don't know where you've been in the past, but around here it's okay to be hurting and to talk about it.

Don't worry about harming me or anybody else here. We got different versions of the same story, a lot of us do, anyway.

You see, I'm hurting too.

Maybe you're being a bit too hard on yourself?
I think I might understand a bit of where you are coming from. Sometimes I think I'm not really good enough, or interesting enough for anyone to care about me, or want to know me better. If I get close to those I like, I somehow become a burden for them and they seem relieved when I back away. It's a strange life.

Don't do anything rash, okay?
I hope you feel better soon.

Well, I believe you have a right to your decisions, but I do hope you make absolutely sure before you act on any ideas.

You're writing, btw, is good. I found myself a bit compelled to read everything you wrote.

You cannot cause anyone here pain and you aren't helping any of us out here by ending your life.
Those ideas are completely wrong.

We can take your words and deal with them as we do in our own ways, but you are not responsible for how we do this.

You are responsible for your own self... come back here and talk some more please.
I'm interested.

If one hurts another it's the responsibility of the inflictor. Saying nasty things and causing concern is painful. You could have spent the time you did replying to the post of someone with redeeming qualities.

It wouldn't be rash, yeah? It's been well planned on the long-term. Impulsivity has never been a concern. That's why I can talk about it. Not happening tonight or tomorrow, too much to tie up before I go. If I was doing it 'now' then I would need to hide from you. Recluse at the most important of times. I'm stupidly insecure and stubborn. The worst thing to happen would be to convince my that I shouldn't do what I plan. Lacking the breadth of personality that I do, that would be a concern on my end, if I was doing this impulsively.

It's silly because such things won't matter except for those few seconds preceding. All this work for a couple of seconds peace. And if I screw up, well that doesn't matter either. See how comforting the irresponsibility of it all is?

You have a way with words.

I say you're worth saving.

You're very good with words, and I hope that you don't do anything drastic.

Thats because she's interesting, the most interesting person I know, she's beautiful too. Don't you dare do anythinbg stupid, the world would miss you greatly

Not true 100% of the time.

For me personally, someone saying 'nasty things', or causing me concern is not necessarily the same as hurting me.
In some instances, I may opt to not react emotionally to those 'nasty things' and instead, consider the mindset of the person saying them, and their current circumstances.
I can brush off a lot of 'nasty things' if I understand where they originate from.

Whether or not I choose to let words from others bother me.. I am in control of any 'pain' I feel, not that person.

Causing concern is not painful.
The concern is mine to create... not yours.
There are many times someone else's troubles do not concern me because I have decided not to allow that.
I choose to allow someone's actions or words or involuntary circumstances to concern me or not.

So, in this regards, you cannot hurt me if I choose to feel concern for you.

Not being capable of concern is more painful. It isn't a sharp pain, it's an emptiness that kills the spirit but leaves the body alive.





And I chose to respond to your post. Nobody forced me to. I felt like it. I guess that tells you my opinion about your qualities.




Don't know if you lack breadth, but you got some depth.



Yeah, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound like a very good bargain. I'm gonna keep that in mind for myself.

Who cares if someone else thinks you don't live your life? You live it your way, not theirs. If they can't see it that's their problem, not yours.

Don't like some stuff about yourself? That's common. I'm 20-30 pounds overweight with a pot belly and way out of shape. I have a good face for radio and a good voice for pantomime. My face is about as good looking as a smashed potato fritter.

I have five friends. I've hurt them many times, and they've hurt me. We're still friends. We apologize and forgive each other. It's how relationships go sometimes. I found over the years that I'm better for my friends in small doses. Also, as I get older I don't crave companionship nearly as much.

It's painful and frustrating to see a beautiful life in concept turn out to be so pockmarked in reality, yet if you persist the reality will have moments more beautiful than the concept. It's really weird in a great way.

On a side note, I think you'd make a kick-ass political analyst.