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  1. Tekka


    So, I think I owe everyone an explanation of my background. May sound like it belongs in introductions, but trust me, the explanations fit here best. So, as a young kid, I had a large amount of issues. I always was philosophical and introspective in my own weird ways. I'm mildly autistic, and it was present in my eaely socialisation... to my chagrin (at least for a while). I wasn't bothered much originally. Little kids don't really care, they just like playing around. But, coming from a poorer house, I was always noted being grubby and other small nitpicky details. This bugged me, and everyone knew it. Come 3rd thru 4th grade, my dad had to go overseas to deal with Taliban fighters. So I was handed over to my aunt and uncle, who lived slightly south of our town. For a year, I dealt with being blamed for every problem, emotional expression being beaten away as "fake" or "weak", being left in piss often, among other things. I began to question everything, being my introspective self. I formed some twisted conclusions (not explaining). Then, not long after, getting back home, I had to deal with the same things. I was literally the school's scapegoat for problems. I was often beaten to crap ( including 2 incidents, one where kids took turns to try to break my legs, and another, getting shoved into a corner and being stoned), and nobody ever did anything. By this time I could barely think straight. I was genuinely hateful of everything. There were several times where I attempted to kill my classmates. I didn't even want to, it was just my reaction. I even poisoned a few lunches and threw one kid over a fence into some rocks, after I saw some wood splinters down in it. I'd also been 5150'd after a bomb threat I did in a kid's name (he was the ringleader), and I'd been brought to the police station. There it was revealed by the neighbor that I'd tried to kill myself, which led me to be sent to an asylum for a week... Soon, we moved down to Florida. I also had issues with mother figures (my dad was a single father, usually being broken off by shitty women), since my first one locked me in my room for no reason (and generally hated me) and the other was lazy and had 2 sons (one who raped me). I was an issue. I repeatedly attacked my stepmom, who I really love to pieces. I almost broke the house many a time. I occasionally fight with her today, but rarely. All of this has made me feel manipulated by everyone. I don't see people ever caring, but instead, attempts to use me. Conversely, I only manipulate. Every expression of emotion lets me further decieve and use those around me. Might make sense now. Along with the recent few years with the other issues, these things don't help with my worldview.
  2. I trust no one. I hope I said that explicitly. Death would allow me not to be manipulated, nor to manipulate. I don't hurt much, but that's the only true part of myself. I fear happiness. It makes me forget, and that violates one of my only few morals, at least moderately. If I'm happy too often, I fear losing what I hold dear to me, the one thing I treasure: my history / wisdom. I used to be fine, but after forgetting a year of my life over certain "life issues", not ever being able to trust ( I just waste people's time and resources, cause pain, and recieve it ), and not knowing who I was, I lost it. I couldn't help but to think this way. Death will be the only escape. I burn and hiss at caring touches, for they are attempts to use me. I wither away from "friends", I cause people pain and pain only. Unless I act my part, be a good little soldier, smile blankly. Unless I give myself motive to cause pain. Unless I become what I feared about myself: the cold, cruel, manipulative, abusive ass I am inside. The part that laughs and revels in others' pain. The part that wants to kill, jump in front of trains (and forces my muscles to twitch in order to), eat people's flesh, rape, destroy, consume. The part that is true. I fear myself and everyone else. I'm being erased by everything, like I shouldn't even exist. So I'll save energy by dying, and then not be able to harm or be hurt. I will not be happy. I can't anymore. It's my mind trying to erase itself.
  3. Well, shit, if anyone finds our that I've been here, I'm going to owe people money AND be hated. Fk. Note: went to the links; I guess even in minimizing the actual acuteness of my experiences, I'm a basket case. Call me crumblie, will you? It's a nice insult to use.
  4. I'm honestly incredibly confused right now. My bodily urges to kill myself, these motions my body makes that I cannot stop seem to be growing stronger and I refuse to take obvious action. I'd rather go peacefully than by my mind hurling me into a semi on the highway. I feel strange. I am not expressing anything, but even as I write with a straight face, my mind is screaming in pain. Not the same audible screams I already hear, but the Damned ones I cannot ignore. I force my mind to do other things, but it betrays me. I feel I have 4 minds, each splitting away, but being the same person. It's hard to express the strange emotions I feel that have no name. I guess they're strange variants of Guilt. Here is a song that expresses it well (for me), just like a sunny day does. Dejection and cracks in my eyes. link: Another that describes my confusion: And my guilt, my favorite song: Please reply, if you can. I'm going to regret this, like everything else I say here. it'll just be used against me, seeking attention.
  5. Hey mate. I can sort of relate to you. I don't know if this helps, but I have had issues with sexuality as well. My dad is sort of homophobic and that eventually distilled into me, but towards myself. He always feared me being gay or something. So when the time came where I was questioning my sexuality, one that I felt I knew for sure, I went into conniptions trying to understand it all. I turned to sleeping pills, and eventually caught myself taking a box (16 pills) at a time. My parents still don't know, but I did figure this out. It's a bit of Roman philosophy: sex with anyone (or anything), and the pleasure of it, is a gift. Do not deny yourself in the matter, when it will only upset you more. I personally had to accept that to deal with my hypersexuality (a term I coined for the symptoms I get when my testosterone levels skyrocket from not doing the deed) and panromaticism / bisexuality. Don't let it bother you too much. I can get the feeling, coming from an unaccepting group.
  6. Tekka


    I don't know if this belongs here or not, but... I see myself repeatedly taking action. Last week I started gathering all the poisonous plants I could find, and crypticly explaining that I would eventually go through with my plans. Now, I've been working towards synthesising cyanide, making my death appear accidental. If anyone knew me well (which no one, not even my father, does), they'd know that me dying by anything but natural causes would be suicide by me, one way or another. Even though it will be some time, I am saying this for some reason. I'm probably just seeking attention, as usual, since I'm an angsty teenage twat and all. I also would rather not say this, since it will most likely lead me being lead into a soft cell, being fed pills and forcibly changed into something I hate, as all crumblies and basket cases are. I find it rational, I will never stop trying. I'm saying this to just prove my own beliefs. So obviously, don't reply. That will be my only solace.
  7. Hmm Emotional abuse? Relatable. I don't remember, but according to my parents, I went through a year of severe emotional abuse. So the whole manipulation and wanting a disease thing? Quite understandable. Ironic for me to say this, but best wishes for your emotions.
  8. Tekka


    This will probably never be solved. I know I will regret saying this. I am your puppet, subject to your whim. You want to twist me and tear me for your enjoyment and use. I am but a tool to you. You say you care, but all you mean is to keep me for your selfish desires and entertainment. You love me, but sickeningly; you twist its definition, bastardize it and make it mean nothing. No one cares, no one will. I am just an angsty teen, I'll get over it, I'm seeking attention, I'm using you. So hold me to your morals, what little you believe in, what vile, narrowminded "good" you think is true and dear. Violate my few morals. Shove pills down my throat, shock me till I'm dumb. Then, when I forget who I am, when nothing is left of me, you can smile over the shell you left, the human of normalcy and motivelessness, a true puppet. If you really loved me, cared for me, you'd let go of your morals, and let me go. I'll say I care about you, I'll smile and play my part. In the end, you'll be my puppet, like everyone else. I am the master of puppets, the one who fears being used, tortured, and forgotten. The one who lies in the shadows, crying, doing anything to cause you pain. The one who is numb, and will always be. No pain, no pleasure. Dust in the eternal wind.
  9. No need to suggest, they are. Tl;Dr family is weird, I'm experimental, father has same visions. Doesn't help that (in a sense) I gave up myself to the universe accidentally.
  10. Well, I tend to have 2 types of hallucinations. Normally, I have flashes of my entire reality change: suddenly , trees are burning, everything's red tinted, I hear screaming (loud enough to where I can barely hear people), and see people's faces and bodies rotting. What's strange is that while some are in their normal clothes, others will change to wear white and have masks on. These masks are uniquely consistent to each person, usually containing strange writing or markings that I can somehow read. The other kind Is memory or summat. The other day, 2 songs I listen to suddenly changed drastically from what I remembered, whilst listening to them! this happens with all sorts of things, from hair color to my house's shape and other things. The brink isn't suicide; I decided that a long time ago. It's being so paranoid and unsure if things that I fall into myself and create my own reality.
  11. So, as some few people may know, I tend to philosophize. I don't mean just a little here and there, but a great deal greater than even Neizch or Descartes ever did. This has lead me to many conclusions, and a problem. I'm growing further unsure of life and what makes something real, because of my already present issues, and these following ideas. See for yourself what I mean: 1)History is a chain of memories. Forgetting something means it never existed, and perception determines reality. 2)One cannot be sure of anything: no true absolutes exist, only faith in consistency and passion of motive determine cause and ideas. 3) Some things I cannot prove: reality is fluid and changes easily (meaning something may be one thing and spontaneously become another), and I determine existence entirely by myself. The second part of the last one is strange. I can't explain it, but somehow, someway I literally see differently than everyone else. Basically, if I didn't see this way, there wouldn't be any observers AT ALL. I can't prove it, but it's somehow the only consistent thing I know of. If everyone saw this way, somehow, then it would be a single screen on some omnipotent entity's security screen. What's happened is that I don't care about reality anymore. I don't feel much sensation physically or emotionally (although I was like this before the ideas came), and believe that by dying, everything will cease to exist.
  12. I came here knowing how much my mentality is in flux, and that with my philosophies and related information I may need to leave a trail. I understand myself well enough to know that one day I'll be everyone's friend and fool, and the next, the straight-faced paranoid. Note: my ideas on life and the nature of reality don't help.
  13. So... for about 7 years now, I've been planning something. Due to the way my life's played out, my past isn't affecting me. However, recently, some events have rekindled my self-destructive habits and thoughts. Not to mention the visual hallucinations and mental screaming, stress from relationships has caused me to go back to work on my suicide plan. Now, I'm not necessarily depressed. I may have depression, but that doesn't affect my judgement much. Rather, I only have seen this as a rational option, and I know for a fact that I will not stop trying, for any reason, to kill myself. I don't know what to do about it, as I have no feelings attached to the idea.
  14. I'm at a loss to describe what's going on with me at this point. I've always felt that my hallucinations were schizophrenic ones, but maybe they're manifestations of my emotional dysfunction. I can't say what, really, but honestly I feel that this is going to start bringing me to the brink.
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