sploogeduck

[sploogeduck]

Who would even come to my funeral?

Would they even care enough to come see the coward who took their own life

[sploogeduck]

Any of you guys also just pretend to talk to someone because you have nobody?

[sploogeduck]

came to the thought that most likely things never get better and basically i don’t have a future so my friends and family might outlive me because i might kill myself in 5 or 10 years

[sploogeduck]

I just want to be held.

Is that too much to ask for

[sploogeduck]

Are people deadass not depressed like what does that even feel like

[sploogeduck]

idk if i need to cuddle and cry in someone’s arms or just beat the shit outta someone

[sploogeduck]

I can’t stop thinking about killing myself.

Would death feel like going home?

I hope it feels like i’m sleeping on your lap, feeling your hand playing with my hair.

[sploogeduck]

I never thought I’d live to be past 20. Now that I am, I realized I should’ve killed myself a long time ago.

[sploogeduck]

I k1ll myself in my head about 15 times a day, why can't at least one of them be real?

[sploogeduck]

i wish you would hate me, because then i wouldn’t feel so guilty about killing myself

[sploogeduck]

do you actually want to be my friend, or do you just pity me?

[sploogeduck]

I’m a disappointment to my family.

Even worse, I’m a disappointment to my friends.

I hope they don’t get too hurt when I’m gone.

[sploogeduck]

sometimes i can’t help but feel like everything would be better if i was never born

[sploogeduck]

I want to be held. Hold my hand and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Tell me that everything is going to be okay. Tell me I deserve to be here.

Watch another stupid movie with me. Dance with me as we step out into the rain. Laugh with me. Cry with me. Eat with me. Sing with me. Play with me. Fight with me. Hit me. Hurt me. Break me. Kill me.

Just, please, don’t ignore me.

I can live with beatings. I can live with pain.

I can’t live with loneliness.

[sploogeduck]

sometimes it sucks having someone who loves you cause then i feel guilty about wanting to off myself

[sploogeduck]

3.14.24

Touch.

Why do you crave it so? 

Who would even give it?

All you want is for someone to hold you. Stroke your hair. Hold your hand. Give you a hug. Hell, you’d even take someone just leaning on you.

You crave it. You need it. You want it.

Who the hell would touch someone as disgusting as you.

Get used to this feeling. Get used to feeling alone.

You’ve been deluding yourself. You actually thought people liked you. You actually thought they cared. Thats funny. That’s hilarious.

Just wait and watch, eventually they’ll run away, they’ll leave you, its inevitable.

That big, gaping, throbbing hole in your chest will only get bigger and bigger, until it consumes you.

You will never be perfect.

You will never be loved. 

You will never be touched.

You don’t deserve it.

You know exactly what you deserve.

You are but Theseus in the labyrinth. You have lost your string, you have broken your sword, your feet ache and your body grows heavy.

Growls grow louder. The earth shakes as the sound of hooves grow closer.

The minotaur approaches.

You feel no fear, only relief.

[sploogeduck]

3.6.24

A phone call.

Crazy, to think that a simple phone call made everything seem okay.

Em, my friend of 8 years, my sister in all but blood, made me feel heard. Made me feel cared for. Brought a warmth to my chest that made the constricting darkness disappear like water putting out a fire.

She understood, she listened, she loved, she cared.

I have to keep it together. I have to be here when she comes back in June. I have to feel her presence. I have to be there when she gives me one of her soul-healing hugs. I promised her. 

J and Em. Why did I ever doubt them? I love them. I want to be here for them. To laugh with them. Cry with them. Hug them. Sing with them. Dance with them. Listen to them. Give them the love they deserve.

They love me. They care for me. I may not deserve it, but I will willingly take it.

I may be drowning, but I have two pairs of hands offering salvation.

You. The voice in my head. I know you’ll be back. I know you’ll come back with a vengeance. Spreading those dark, disturbing thoughts and doubt like a farmer sowing his field.

I’ll fight. I’ll get better. I owe it to them. I owe it to me. 

The road to the top of the hill is full of dips and turns, with sinister forests blocking my path. I’ll brave it. I’ll get dirty, I’ll get bloody. I may fall, but I wont stop. I’ll make it to the peak, I’ll die trying if I have to.

For them.

For me.