#tw deppression

[lydiamakesmoonboards]

[xbuggyxboyx]

ugh, I wasn't such an attention seeker. I wore gloves today specifically to hide my wrists and forearms. Why did I have to take off my gloves at lunch? I know my friends saw the cuts. I know I did it so they would, because I wanted them to see and ask about them. I don't like my mental health being like this. I don't like not being able to directly ask for help, but I know I need it so I find other, less good ways of asking. I don't like it.

[vixensofdeath]

I disassociate the whole day then wonder why I don’t remember anything

[devoble]

I want to die , it will never get better no matter what I do. I already know well what a despicable and pathetic person I am.

[randommothsvents]

🚫Pov:🚫

My subconscious trying to decide what (unhealthy) coping mechanism to do tonight

[inuska97]

I really wish I would die...

[cryingprincess13]

[ayaisokay]

The Kids Aren't Alright

* ~ I'm sorry for making this ~ *

Doomers & Fatalism

Regardless of your age, you need a reason to move forward. You need hope. Yet, it's hard to find hope for teens and young adults.

Not a year goes by without an update on the planet's decline (at our hand), wealth is only feeling more unstable and unequally distributed, a pandemic destroyed any hope of sociability for some, and social media does more harm than good when it "connects" people.

There's no true community, nothing to take pride in, there's hardly motivation for ambition or wealth. Hell, we grow up being told we'll be a generation of renters, because it's a statistical improbability than any of us will EVER afford a home without working 3 jobs into our grave.

I can't speak for America, but I know my government haven't made any real effort to prevent renter's from taking that news and slowly inflating rent costs each month.

I'm a part of the generation that is thought to deal with the broadest range of mental health concerns; however, I'm also part of the generation that's most likely to be told to "deal with it," or "grow up," by the people perpetuating our suffering, or the peers that fell victim to toxic hustle culture— enabling the shitty circumstances.

When you start adulthood with so many problems that directly impact your life, most of which come at no fault of your own, you'd hope for help in addressing those matters, but it never comes.

We're told we're lazy, we don't try hard enough, and we've got it easy (which is a demonstrable lie). How is it any surprise we became hopeless doomers? At some point you just get the idea that we were destined to fail.

Threats of War

Now we're told to be ready for World War 3 and I'm struggling to understand why. What values am I defending? Why should I die for a country that doesn't care about me?

Sure, Ukraine and Palestine are in shitty situations, but saying that doesn't require me to do anything. Though they demonstrate something: the government will risk our lives for money, and turn a blind eye to genocide if it suits them.

All that matters is that we're made to feel like our interests align. They don't represent us. They represent themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I don't support either conflict, and I sympathise with the aforementioned nations; however, I am not willing to die for them— I don't think you are. So is it even fair for us to bother complaining? It's not like diplomacy has done a thing so far.

Whether we're roped into a war or not, it doesn't feel like we'd have a choice.

Hobbies and Corporations

Normally I'd propose finding an outlet for everything. I'm not sure that's ideal anymore. Commonplace hobbies like gaming, sports, martial arts, reading, and art, they require 3 things: time, motivation, and effort.

Thanks to hustle culture, holding 3 jobs, running a drop shipping business, and abandoning any meaningful social life is considered just enough and reasonable. That doesn't leave time for personal hobbies, entertainment, or time to actually live. A life like that is no life at all. You're an animal operating on the exclusive goal of survival. You're alive, but you're not living.

Among those of us too physically or mentally scarred to work like our peers, we compassionately took to pen and paper, or software and devices, writing stories, drawing and animating worlds, or making music.

I fear that pocket of joy is getting smaller. AI image generation has already impacted artists, AI voice recreations are already being used in place of some voice actors, and we've all seen the AI voice covers for songs— claiming "you don't need to learn to sing." It didn't take long for me to see "generative AI" being proposed as a source for track samples and stems in music production.

Considering such things, it's hard to motivate yourself to put your work out there. You struggle to justify spending time creating anything, and you're probably not ready to put the effort into producing enough algorithm optimised works per day. After all, no one will see it. No one cares.

That's how it feels.

Social Media

Maybe we still have digital spaces? Really. Are cespools like Twitter spaces you can enjoy? Even Tumblr is quite detached, with small accounts struggling to get so much as a couple likes— nevermind a reblog, and god forbid you get a comment or DM.

That's minor though, it's the relationships that bother me. The ability to lock someone out of your life, within 5 seconds, for the slightest of perceived infractions. You're sensitive and a snowflake if you need boundaries, and you're "rude" and "mean" when you're pushed too far for not establishing them.

You can join a fandom or community and run into those issues, but do you really need more trouble? Ive hung around with furries since I was 13 or 14. It wasn't a furry that SA'd me, and I've never been groomed. But as a child online, I was labelled as a dog fucking groomer (at 15), because I was in a furry community discord server. I don't like to think about how that made the young adult owner of the server feel.

Social media is good for "satirical trolls," who take pleasure in hurting as many people as they can, and then claiming it's OK because they're joking, and you should've known. Is it really worth the effort for anyone else? You know, us "normal people," not bogged down by million strong fanbases, actively managing parasocial relationships and morally questionable stalking.

Closing Statements

I'm not entirely sure why I wrote this post. I guess I'm just another girl crying on the internet when I should save it for the therapy I can't actually afford.

I want to be hopeful, to feel like there's something attainable to desire, or even just things to look forward to. It's been a long time since I woke up and felt there was a good reason to be awake or even alive.

Thanks,

- The Girl That Doesn't Exist

[lostmf]

[heylouiseeee]

take me back to the start when everything is okay and you weren't scared of loving me.

[jarsarahere]

Every coping skill I've ever learned has never been as effective as cutting.

[pain-neverends-blog]

My mind hurts from overthinking

My face hurts from crying

My body hurts from living

My heart hurts from betrayal

Everything fucking hurts

[xbuggyxboyx]

I love lying to my therapist and having her believe me

[vixensofdeath]

I wish I could just disappear and become nothing else ever again

[osamotniony-smiec]

Chcecie się pośmiać?

Kilka lat temu kiedy chciałem popełnić s@møbójstwø metodą skończenia z mostu, moje zasrane 155 cm nie mogło przeskoczyć barierki...

Widzieliście kiedyś sämøbójçè idącego z taboretem?

[epic-sorcerer]

warning: childhood suicide

a 10 year old boy named Sammy teusch was on the news because he committed suicide. Because of bullying. As someone who attempted suicide just 2 days before my 7th birthday, this story hit really, really hard. RIP sammy. I heard on the news that he spent his birthday money on gifts for his parents and his vacation time in Florida picking up trash.

I see that ther were people in the comments shocked that a 10 year old would know about suicide, one even claimed it was “fishy.” I can understand where this point of view can come from if you had a comparably easier childhood.

the rest of this post is to provide context as to what it feels to be a young, bullied kid with suicidal ideation.

the thing is, you don’t need to know about suicide to want it so desperately. I didn’t know about suicide when I was that age. But I DID know people could die. I did know that once a body is dead, there is no pain. And there are no ears to listen to horrible words anymore. Or eyes to see everyone else having fun and being friends with each other.

point is, people can suffer at all ages. So can they be desperate to end it quickly. Some of you reading this may remember the comic I made about my birthday, detailing how I commited suicide due to my greif of my grandmother dying. That is true, but god there was so much more going on that couldn’t fit on 4 panels.

at 3 my parents noticed I had something wrong with me that caused a lot of pain, but I would not be daignosed with AMPS(also known as the suicide disease, so go figure) until I was 7.5 years old. Even then, I wouldn’t really make any headway until extremely recently. I also had undiagnosed adhd, anxiety, seasonal affective disorder(depression), dyslexia and dyscalculia.

I was in constant torture in my mind and body. I was being emotionally abused at home(emotional distress and trauma feeds into amps so it was also physical in a way), had an ableist and just horrible first grade teacher, was isolated from most of my peers if not bullied, had no idea why my head was so stupid and broken, and yeah. My grandmother was dead. Still dead.

of course I wanted to die. Who wouldn’t? I had already been showing self harming behaviors by 5 or 6, so it wasn’t a thought that was out of left feild.

I have memories of my mom driving me to school in the mornings. I would go on monologues about how much I wished to die. Over and over and over. I talked about it like it was a summer vacation, or I guess, a perminant summer vacation. Because that is what it was to me. I belived I had suffered enough in my life and that I was ready to just do away with it. No more suffering. No more suffering.

On November 28th, my grandmother’s death date, I attempted suicide. I wrote a note on my white bored in my room that I was running away. But to please not throw away my stuff just yet incase I come back. Then I left my home. Thankfully my mom got to me quickly and took me home.

I am not so sure hwo to end this, I was not magically cured that day. I even graduated to cutting my feet with sharp objects soon after. But yeah, that’s my story. Questions are extremly welcome, creating awareness about this is important to me so don’t be shy. Thanks for reading

And oh yeah, ok to reblog. Actually encouraged for awareness tbh