I'd feel like an idiot writing up comments and analysis of this scientific paper about the types of websites that turn up when people seach suicide-related keywords (I felt sort of icky when I realized that I get some of those searches often.)
Here, you can read very intelligent-sounding responses.
I am just not in that league. Dare I say I've been intimidated?
September 24, 2008
September 21, 2008
Today on PostSecret
OK, I admit it, I am a huge PostSecret junkie.
So, here's what resonated with me this morning:
Gee, that's awfully considerate of you, but I don't think you realize that I (and presumably other atheists) take this about the same way as you would if I said that I prayed for your protection through Zeus. You disbelieve in many gods; I just disbelieve in one more. Personally, I can't believe this one was chosen to be put up online- that's just what every religious person says when you say you don't believe in a higher power: "I'll pray for you."
The friends we create in our minds are often so much more understanding and seem more real than our living ones.
At this point, whoever's reading this is probably wondering where the secret that you'd most expect to find here is. So, with no further ado...
I did not send this secret in, but I could have awhile back. Summarized in a few words, this was me September 2oo6- March 2oo7. Making the effort to die would be too much. Whether I lived or died it didn't matter to me. The depression of this period is very difficult for me to write about- which is why I probably haven't mentioned it much. I drifted through life and decent judgement was... nonexistent. I didn't care if I broke every bone in my body; I didn't care if I was arrested.
And that was what I've come to believe screwed me up even more deeply.
So, here's what resonated with me this morning:
Gee, that's awfully considerate of you, but I don't think you realize that I (and presumably other atheists) take this about the same way as you would if I said that I prayed for your protection through Zeus. You disbelieve in many gods; I just disbelieve in one more. Personally, I can't believe this one was chosen to be put up online- that's just what every religious person says when you say you don't believe in a higher power: "I'll pray for you."
The friends we create in our minds are often so much more understanding and seem more real than our living ones.
At this point, whoever's reading this is probably wondering where the secret that you'd most expect to find here is. So, with no further ado...
I did not send this secret in, but I could have awhile back. Summarized in a few words, this was me September 2oo6- March 2oo7. Making the effort to die would be too much. Whether I lived or died it didn't matter to me. The depression of this period is very difficult for me to write about- which is why I probably haven't mentioned it much. I drifted through life and decent judgement was... nonexistent. I didn't care if I broke every bone in my body; I didn't care if I was arrested.
And that was what I've come to believe screwed me up even more deeply.
September 14, 2008
A Living Miracle
Two years ago today I composed a suicide note.
Two years ago today I prepared to tie a noose.
And yet, I'm still alive.
Sometimes when I begin to loose faith in humankind and the world in general, which is more frequently than I would like, I look back and realize that I should consider the fact that I can feel my heart beating to be a miracle. I see life differently- I don't take it for granted, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to slog through it anyway.
I wish there was some way to find out if I would've carried out my plan if Martin wasn't there to intervene. Of course, that's about the most impossible thing on the planet, but it has been weighing heavily on my mind lately.
Martin. I don't know what I could ever do to repay him. I don't know if he knows how truly grateful I am (at the moment).
730 days I've lived into this new life, and I don't remember two thirds of them. Or I probably do, but I've shut them out.
And today is just another one. For all the spiralling emotions I felt on August 16, today is nothing. Another day to live.
I AM ALIVE, GODDAMMIT!
But Eva... she isn't. And that's what affects me every single day.
September 7, 2008
In My Hands
Suicide, as an option, always stays in the back of my head.
There's at least one way out.
I hope I am never at the point of really considering it again, but the option is still there. I know it's sick and twisted of me to think, I could end my life any second; I could even end it now. The knowledge that I think these things scares me, as I am for the most part happier now than I've been in a long while. Why does it even come up?
Sometimes, I see a bottle of pills and in my mind they become a tool of destruction. It's dizzying to realize that all I could do is force them all down, and it would be over. Other times, there is a tiny, fleeting urge, only a millisecond long, to jump as I walk across a bridge.
Am I really so insecure that I need to feel this terrible sense of control over my life?
In response to everyone who wished me luck on starting the school year:
I'll live. I just don't find it enjoyable and feel that there are better things I could be doing with my time. I was quite baffled and touched by your concern.
There's at least one way out.
I hope I am never at the point of really considering it again, but the option is still there. I know it's sick and twisted of me to think, I could end my life any second; I could even end it now. The knowledge that I think these things scares me, as I am for the most part happier now than I've been in a long while. Why does it even come up?
Sometimes, I see a bottle of pills and in my mind they become a tool of destruction. It's dizzying to realize that all I could do is force them all down, and it would be over. Other times, there is a tiny, fleeting urge, only a millisecond long, to jump as I walk across a bridge.
Am I really so insecure that I need to feel this terrible sense of control over my life?
In response to everyone who wished me luck on starting the school year:
I'll live. I just don't find it enjoyable and feel that there are better things I could be doing with my time. I was quite baffled and touched by your concern.
September 6, 2008
September 5, 2008
Song That Annoys The Hell Out Of Me
-- Simple Plan
Every time I hear this song, the same thoughts run through my head. Since it was just on the radio, I decided to treat you to a slice of my thinking process.
Do you ever feel like breaking down? I don't want to, but it happens.
Do you ever feel out of place? Yep.
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you? Sure. That describes recent social experiences rather well.
Do you ever wanna runaway? Doesn't everyone have the urge after disagreements with parental units?
Do you lock yourself in your room? No lock, sorry.
With the radio on turned up so loud
That no one hears you screaming? Yeah, on occasion.
No, you don't know what it's like I don't?
When nothing feels all right Again, you don't know me, don't judge. I've been there, thank you.
You don't know what it's like
To be like me Granted, I've never been you, so no I don't...
To be hurt Check.
To feel lost Check.
To be left out in the dark Check.
To be kicked when you're down Check.
To feel like you've been pushed around I haven't just felt like it, I've been.
To be on the edge of breaking down Yeah, I've been there...
And no one's there to save you Thankfully, someone was...
No, you don't know what it's like I suggest you count the checks.
Welcome to my life
Do you wanna be somebody else? That'd be great.
Are you sick of feeling so left out? Not really, I've decided hanging out with those sort of people is pointless.
Are you desperate to find something more
Before your life is over? There fucking better be more to this monstrosity.
Are you stuck inside a world you hate? Sometimes I hate it. Other times it's better.
Are you sick of everyone around? Most people.
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you're bleeding AHHH! TOO MANY CLICHES IN A ROW!
No, you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right ORLY?
You don't know what it's like
To be like me Gee, your life sucks. In pretty much the same ways as the average teenager.
To be hurt I am not commenting on this section again.
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
No one ever lied straight to your face Oh yes they did.
No one ever stabbed you in the back Oh yes they did.
You might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay Please, dude, if you really think that, you might want to look into therapy.
Everybody always gave you what you wanted
Never had to work it was always there You've obviously never met me and my family.
You don't know what it's like, what it's like
To be hurt *mental screams of agony*
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No, you don't know what it's like (what it's like)
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No, you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life
Great. Now that you're done whining and sympathizing with every teenager in America (and dubs it their theme song), why don't you try and figure out WHY it is you feel like this?
And when did this band get classified into the punk genre? *scratches head confusedly*
September 3, 2008
Still around, but...
I may not be able to post often, as the time has arrived for me to go back to being stuffed into prison cells- sorry, I should say classrooms*- and force-fed whatever information and politically correct views the government decided on.
Yeah, I don't enjoy school, but I promised myself I'd actually try to have half a heart this year. It'll probably only last until sometime in November, though.
*I am not kidding about this. The school is constructed out of cement blocks, and most of the classrooms don't have widows, which would make it slightly more bearable.
September 2, 2008
The Snowball Effect
Things I have learnt this week: Do not read a book unless you have at least a general idea what it is about. Otherwise, you might be risking a mental breakdown.
The book in question is Th1rteen R3asons Why by Jay Asher.
Three weeks after his former classmate and crush, Hannah Baker, committed suicide, Clay Jensen discovers a box of tapes sent to him containing Hannah's heart-breaking tale, which is to be eventually passed along to everyone who, in her opinion, had a major role in driving her to kill herself. It should be obvious why I identify with this on the most basic levels.
The story represents only a small fraction of teen suicides. Hannah planned the act extensively, and took a drug overdose. Her depression seems to have developed out of betrayal by friends and untrue rumors spread about her at school.
Hannah displayed nearly all of the classic warning signs, and even asks for help from a teacher, but they are ignored, not taken seriously, or sometimes even used to ridicule her. Clay realizes this as time goes on. Reading the novel, I felt a sense of deep dread; I knew how it was going to end. I really shouldn't have read it, but once I got going, it was nearly impossible to stop, much like the snowball effect mentioned in the book.
Hannah's final words on the recording are:
The final tape is the most awful to me, and I imagine it is to everyone. She tells a teacher what's on her mind, but he misinterprets it as something less dire. But I knew that she was so far gone that almost nothing would do anything at that point.
I don't even want to think about what I would do if I received or found something similar. It's been too long for me, deluded in my own fantasies.
I suspect Th1rteen R3asons Why is going to be on my brain for quite a while. The message that is supposed to be taken from this novel, or the one that I took anyway, is that actions that you may think are insignificant can have a massive effect on someone's life. However, it is just as easy to stop the snowball from gaining speed, or to destroy it all together. Anyone can make the snowball start rolling, but anyone can also stop it. I'm not going to say that the novel traumatized me or anything, but I was shaken and triggered.
It is my hope that Th1rteen R3asons is interpreted well. I hope that other readers sympathize with Hannah and Clay rather than Hannah's tormentors. I hope that students read this in school, and realize that a Hannah could be sitting in the desk in front of them.
The book in question is Th1rteen R3asons Why by Jay Asher.
Three weeks after his former classmate and crush, Hannah Baker, committed suicide, Clay Jensen discovers a box of tapes sent to him containing Hannah's heart-breaking tale, which is to be eventually passed along to everyone who, in her opinion, had a major role in driving her to kill herself. It should be obvious why I identify with this on the most basic levels.
The story represents only a small fraction of teen suicides. Hannah planned the act extensively, and took a drug overdose. Her depression seems to have developed out of betrayal by friends and untrue rumors spread about her at school.
Hannah displayed nearly all of the classic warning signs, and even asks for help from a teacher, but they are ignored, not taken seriously, or sometimes even used to ridicule her. Clay realizes this as time goes on. Reading the novel, I felt a sense of deep dread; I knew how it was going to end. I really shouldn't have read it, but once I got going, it was nearly impossible to stop, much like the snowball effect mentioned in the book.
Hannah's final words on the recording are:
A lot of you cared, just not enough. And that... that is what I
needed to find out.
And I did find
out.
And I'm sorry.
The final tape is the most awful to me, and I imagine it is to everyone. She tells a teacher what's on her mind, but he misinterprets it as something less dire. But I knew that she was so far gone that almost nothing would do anything at that point.
I don't even want to think about what I would do if I received or found something similar. It's been too long for me, deluded in my own fantasies.
I suspect Th1rteen R3asons Why is going to be on my brain for quite a while. The message that is supposed to be taken from this novel, or the one that I took anyway, is that actions that you may think are insignificant can have a massive effect on someone's life. However, it is just as easy to stop the snowball from gaining speed, or to destroy it all together. Anyone can make the snowball start rolling, but anyone can also stop it. I'm not going to say that the novel traumatized me or anything, but I was shaken and triggered.
It is my hope that Th1rteen R3asons is interpreted well. I hope that other readers sympathize with Hannah and Clay rather than Hannah's tormentors. I hope that students read this in school, and realize that a Hannah could be sitting in the desk in front of them.
September 1, 2008
A Tale of Three Augusts
I can't forget;I never will.
Memories won't fade;
Scars don't heal.
A cycle of seasons,
Another year,
Eventually wind down
Into the month of August.
A summertime conclusion,
A path divided,
Furious goodbyes,
A girl left blindsided,
Endless questions,
Relentless tears:
And there concludes
The first August.
A sudden realization,
More tears shed,
A new voice emerges,
And better understanding of "dead."
A long journey awaits.
As September nears,
She realizes it's the end
Of the second August.
Another lip piercing,
The same blue sky.
The crippled bird
Has remembered how to fly.
Pain still lingers,
But hope grows strong,
As the curtain closes
On the third August.
(And now for something completely different. Since I feel like this ought to be put on this blog somewhere, but doesn't require it's own post, I'm adding it along the bottom here. It's about misconceptions about the emo subculture. Only click the link if you're willing to wade through horrendous spelling and grammar- the worst being at the top of page two.)
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