The worst depressed letter I've I guess sent, because this could be a bottle that needs to be deleted someday, or left. I wouldn't know who I am without scars and White Oleander quotes. Red flags. I also considered It's only after we've lost some of our things, but really don't have a good excuse to be nightmare's to other people that we're free to admit we need to stop quoting Fight Club at some point.
Spoilers: Spoilers doesn’t even begin to address how depressed I’ve been, or some of the things I talk about in this “letter.” Red flags or Whoa, it get’s ever more depressing would be a more accurate despair of freudian slips in the description of what follows I would say run. It's also boringly repetitive, and wanders like crazy, like, I'd be annoyed. I would not read what follows, I would regret spending any time on it. I guess I'm trying to use some faceless kind internet soul to skim this, but I wouldn't were I you. Sometimes you need to scream into the darkness, and hope the cave is empty, this should not be done in a city park because that's rude, but clearly I have no manners.
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Hey,
Wow the worst possible drunk texts of all time. And I just realized, right after you asked me not to mess with you. And then, the actually most disastrous fucking possible follow up. Umm. I can’t send this, obviously. But this would be message number three. And wow. That was impressively disastrous. I can’t believe I’ve done this. “Huh,” really really isn’t enough. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it, mostly right now for being an asshole like thrice over, at least probably a lot more. I dunno. I’m so sorry. I’ve kinda been a walking disaster for a while now. It’s like hanging onto a string your whole life and not being able to escape it. I’m so sorry I hurt you, and that my timing is so goddam bad. That was such an incredibly shitty apology, in a series of worse and worse fucking apologies. Scary bad apologies, damn. Who would write such a thing wow. Fuck. That’s so bad. Do I radiate despair? Yes. How is that a question? Fuck. Wow. Asshole. Fuck. Holy shit. What the duck have I done? How long have I existed in this broken ducking state? That’s crazy, I’m crazy. How do explain any of this, it’s not stupidity is it? I mean maybe I’m just retarded. Maybe I fell off my bike the wrong way too many times. Everything hurts. All the time. I notice the steps in my day. Who cares, that was incredibly shitty.
Wow, holy shit something broke. I mean it’s been broken for a really long time, but it slipped. And it’s so ducking broken. Damn. That’s too bad. Well, I guess this will make a fun introduction letter to a therapist, shit. Anyway. Uhh. Should not write high. Actually, this seems as good a reason as any to actually stay sober, this clearly needs to stop. All of the bullshit I do. What a fucking disaster. How does a person allow themselves to exist like this for more than a month or something. What the fuck has become of me? Excuse me. I need to call an Uber instead of biking home because I bought way too many groceries.
Ok. So that’s coming. Wow, sometimes it’s worth it to be lazy. And sometimes you buy a fuck ton of groceries and then realize I won’t bike home with this. That ceramic nail really fucked with me. Everything hurt. I lost touch with pain and reality. Every step was imbalance, and each one hurt. When you’re cutting something difficult, every stroke is played
Busride finished. I can understand why you would never want be around me again. This is fucked up. I can’t believe I’ve been living like this, and doing anything like this. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done. I can’t fucking believe I would do this shit. holy fuckiing shit. Why? I’m so sorry. I barely met you, and then I pulled some fucked up shit and that’s a horrible thing to do to other people. It just gets worse and worse. I mean. I’d like to think this one is better, but wtf, they’re so fucking bad. What the fuck? How the fuck did this happen? I don’t know who I am anymore, this is fucked up. Like, the apology is a hundred times worse than anything I did before it. Fuck. why would anyone do that? how the fuck does this happen?
I feel sorry for everyone who’s around me. I feel like a well of pain, and loneliness, and despair. It’s a nightmare. I’m a nightmare, and I just fucking did that. How. I can’t make up for that. I didn’t mean to hurt to you, but somedays I realize that I’m harassing a bus driver with a depressing story. It’s fucked up. I need to stop. I’m such an asshole. Must be nice is such hypocrisy coming from me. I’m a complete asshole. I mean. I wish I wasn’t, I try to be a better person, but then some days I just fail.
Some days, it comes and some days it goes. Some days, you realize you just took a toll on everyone around you. What the fuck?
I try, I try not to. I really fucked up. Unbelievably messed up. I’m so sorry I ever walked into your life. I shouldn’t have. I’m so grateful for the time you gave me, and I’m so sorry for the toll I’ve taken from you. Wow. No fucking wonder people run from me. Every one should run. I’m a monster. Buster, it’s not funny. That sucks.
That ceramic nail, really hurt. But not just that. It’s been a slow decline, it happened around 2011, but it had to have been coming for years. How long have I been this person? How do I have any friends? oh yeah, that makes sense. huh, that’s what huh means. ok.
I’ve gone mad. Oh shit. I fucking did that. How could you do that? is this it? Saying “you.” How uncomfortable do I make other people around me? What the fuck? This is as good a reason as any to be sober, and taking therapy. What have I done, what have I become? I let this happen? Why?
Every time this leaks people around me get hurt. it’s like spritzing people with despair when you talk about residential counseling houses or old injuries. I wouldn’t subject anyone I don’t actually dislike to my company because some days I’m just a fucking pit. That ceramic nail, really hurt. I notice these things when I sit too. Other people have problems too. I can’t believe I did any of this to you.
I’ve lost it, and I can’t blame anyone else, even fucking society and believe me I think I bought my psych and sociology BAs in part to find reasons why I’m so messed up, and none of them suffice for the bullshit I’ve done. Somethings gone horribly wrong. What a horrible toll I take from the people around me. What have I done? I guess I will be rewriting a less high version of this sentiment to anyone I want to see in the future. Everyone. I should put up red flags, because there should be red flags. Well, obviously try to not to leave destruction in your wake, but if it comes to it. People need to know, and I shouldn’t try to connect with anyone without warning them.
Add Lists:
What do I do from here?
What are my principles of life for living with myself.
What lines should I not cross.
How do I not leave destruction in my wake?
Ask yourself if it’s ok to.
how did you do this? Why? How would this slip under the fucking radar of what is and what is not ok?
What is it? are you full of yourself, arrogant, are you that indifferent to everyone around you that you just don’t care? What’s happened? This feels like it constitutes an emergency. I mean, like, I just put myself on a counseling waitlist and that seems like a poor response. Maybe ask an old professor? But that just feels like taking a toll on yet another person who doesn’t deserve to be hurt, well obviously no one does, but this about the sense that Clair was right, “Stay away from broken people.” Who would do that to someone? I did that. I just did that. This is so far outside the principles of how I’ve meant to live my life. Oh shit it’s in my left arm too. Fucking ceramic nails. That really hurts.
Wow I thought that kid was bad, and I’ve fucking done it too. That’s what this is. I thought my dad was bad radiating unhappiness, then going about his life, but I’m just as bad. I’m trying to, but I absolutely did. I fucking tore into a acquaintance I really liked but barely met, and took a price that could never be asked or forgiven. What a fucking nightmare. I should be writing two letters. I don’t know if I should separate and clean this up for a therapist, maybe. I’ll try that. I know it doesn’t help, but I’ll try and seek some. Ha, how’s that working out for you? Being clever? It’s working out terribly Tyler. Just terrible. Pro tip for escaping reality and your feelings, ground out your thoughts with movie quotes and obsessive versatile solutions to modern living.
Let’s talk obsessive versatile solutions to modern living, because I don’t know what the fuck this letter is anymore. Never walk far or without deliberating careful steps every step of the way on concrete. I fucking hate concrete, I’ve written on this. Fucking ceramic nails, but also, that has nothing to do with it. Fuck concrete.
VSML#2 Don’t eat the food. Ok, am I crazy, but do they serve
VSML#3 this probably isn’t the right fucking place for this, but get off the fucking online dating apps, they fucking rot you from inside out. looking at faces and treating them like that, destroys you especially knowing that most of the time you’re spending is pointlessly wasted. It’s a nightmare. Tinder. And Bumble, and all of them. Maybe it’d be ok under different circumstances, but I can’t fucking do it, and I really shouldn’t have been in the first place. This is entirely the right place, every fucking place I write this is the right place until I get it.
VSML#4 don’t use the number 4. You’ve been spending a surprisingly huge amount of energy accumulated over the course of every interaction of the day avoiding the number 4. Please stop.
VSML#5 The number 5. I know you like it, stop orienting your life around it, it’s not even a fucking saying.
VSML#6 Must be Knife.
You know. For someone who aspires to be nice. You’ve really lost track of it. Who would do such a thing. Who would do, such a thing!?
VSML#7 Who would do such a thing - HAWP call of duty. You need to stop tracing back every fucking quote, I don’t care what source every sentence you say comes from or who said it first. Just talk like a normal fucking human.
VSML #8 Get fucking sober. You hear fucking voices when you get high. There’s something horribly fucking wrong going on in your head where you just let that happen and hope it’s nothing, and even do the laziest fucking google search for answers. Poor example, webMD could tell me I have cancer, but that’s beside the point. Other point, “what’s fucking happening there buddy, I said it before you typed it, suck it.”
VSML#9 Day Joy. I assume this was around 2012 or 2013 or so? Honestly I have no idea when I last lost it, I once walked into a professors office hours to ask questions about things I’d missed on a test and found out that I’d already fucking done that. I get that living by strict rules of conduct is a substitute for certain aspects of cognition, but that’s taking it a bit too far.
VSML#10 Spinning Leaf has to end. You’ve been living life in spinning leaf for a long time now, I don’t even know when it began, but you need to stop. Please. Start with staying sober. It may not seem like a problem to really enjoy getting high and doing yoga and actually stop doing all the crazy fucking biking you do. Your bike’s shocks are not that good. and every crack breaks your fucking back they weren’t kidding. Also, try to focus less on pain in life. Oh wait, but really stop loading your backpack super fucking full of shit then biking like a fucking crazy person. It hurts, and the fact that you had to make up a fictional video game in which characters that wear plate armor when they shouldn’t growl in an undertone “this is heavy” then walk real slow, and that you’re now using that as a vocal cantrip every time you pickup your fucking overloaded bag is a sign you should not bicycle. Stop it. “That’s enough Ove.” actually you’re using that wrong, but that’s a good one too. “please clap.”
VSML#9.5 Right, so got interrupted, but it’s a not good sign when a year or two of your life disappear from your mental history. That one office hours encounter was one of the few memories I do have because it was so fucking strange. I spent most of that year? I remember a winter spent mostly in an attic watching youtube. Day9 and Dodger. And they really helped, but that was it. Not true. There were people in my life. Hell, I forced myself to go, and now in retrospect, I guess to impose myself on a table of nerds that played games every day. I didn’t think about what I might have done to them, but I just wanted to practice talking to people. I hadn’t done it in so long, and I’d forgotten how to a good extent. It’s comforting to watch youtube, it’s like a taste of friendship with someone you see regularly but only one person talks.
VSML#12
I went looking for tools to fix myself, gave up without actually looking around, and then clearly failed in the most spectacular and by that I mean unintentionally cruel way of fucking with someone. Who does that? GUY.
VSML#10 The Art of Survival
VSML#11 Marrow
Always learn a poem by heart. It’s like fluoride in the water, it’ll protect your soul from the world’s soft decay. Not quite the White Oleander quote, but you take music too seriously. You everything too seriously, except this. This started as a fucking drunk text and you’ve gone mad. Humor? Is this funny? who would laugh? I can’t anymore, you need to stop using humor as a shield from feeling things.
VSML#11 Music
This is another point, I wouldn’t interject in the middle of this but we need to talk about it. You’re talking to yourself again, you do that, you talk to yourself a lot. What’s happening buddy? Thank goodness I don’t quote Lumbgegh, that’d be awful.
VMSL#11 Music
You hear voices, didn’t see that coming, you just hear them.
VSML#Elevenses I’ve made a huge mistake.
Oh hey reddit, full honesty, there should be red flags somewhere.
VSML#Elevenses
You need to consider the names you go by.
VSML#13 move on at some point, for fucks sake.
VSML#14 seriously, warn people with at least a “hey I’ve been pretty stressed lately, and honestly I’m not in the best mental state, and holy shit, I’ve done some horrible things to people who did not need to deal with it, and we probably shouldn’t meet because there’s a significant chance I’ll just mentally break down on you after one drink, I drink regularly 1-2 beers 3-5 times a week, probably more, honestly I get home and have a beer because I just fucking want it. I don’t even feel tipsy most nights, but I just crave that fucking beer. Does this make me an alcoholic, I’m high right fucking now, and I only ever eat edibles. If I actually do an estimate on the past 2 weeks, I’d say 5 days, but then I have an obsession with the number 5, and I don’t trust myself anymore.
VSML#15 A fear of heights, is a fear of oneself.
Actually buddy, you need a healthy amount more fear. You do crazy fucking shit and that’s why everything hurts.
VSML#16 Unbearable to be around
You hear voices buddy. They aren’t saying nice things, but then maybe you’ve kinda earned that. But wait, the point is, when you make guesses about what other people are thinking, and then use not your voice to hear it said, that’s pretty fucking weird right? Am I taking fucking crazy pills? No, maybe I should be? I would really rather not, just remembered, I don’t have the will or drive anymore to spend the effort or work of separating this and cleaning it for a professional, wait, no. Umm right just at least offer that as an option. At the very least you fucking asshole.
VSML#17 You’re not wrong Walter, you’re just an asshole.
You’re dad is an asshole, that’s not gonna change, but you need to fucking escape this shit.
VSML#18
I’m so fucking sorry. I thought I couldn’t do it with words, but for fucks sake I made it so much worse. oh my god it’s so much worse. what have you done?
VSML#19
Despair is not an old friend you welcome into your house and sit down for tea.WO Should it come in the fucking house. You need to lock down the doors, button the windows, autocorrect the wording, and fucking not damage someone when you brush past them on the street.WO
VSML#20
The art of Survival
You are not surviving. You’ve let yourself fester, it’s disgusting. You reek of despair.
The decks are crusty, and the sails salty however it’s ordered. fuck. so fucking salty and so fucking thirsty. I tried letting go. I tried drifting off into saltless ocean, but you can’t just create reality as you will it, and I did not notice it when I landed on that undersea salt lake from Planet Earth. damn that’s cold. This is cold.
VSML#21
Ok seriously no more letters. You’re fucking done. Please stop, just fucking stop. You suck at this. You suck at life. This would be even worse. This would be the final worst letter. Shit. Ok Put it in fucking title, there should be red flags. Wait, fuck. That sounds like I tried to warn you, which I entirely did not. I tried to trick you. I tried to pretend I’m just a normal person who’s going through a shitty few years, and it turns out I’m just a shitty person whose taken a normal person’s life and squandered it. Whoa, it get’s ever more depressing, probably should try that title too. Fuck. hold up.
Ok, so put that at the front of this bullshit.
VSML#22 actually consider trying to bump yourself off the waitlist or something. I don’t fucking know. Find something. Do anything. Not that, obviously I mean just fucking try.
Oh fuck what’s happening. Every once in a while I just break. It’s so incredibly unfair to everyone who I wish only good things for. I mean, it’d be maybe ok if I wasn’t such wreck about it.
I’m so sorry.
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So that's the letter. Uhh. I don't know. Can I show this to a therapist? I'm almost afraid to go into work. Like I need to stop being a wreck around everyone around me. Everything about this needs to stop. I had a depression regimen I made for myself out of mild exercise quotas, sunlight/nature quotas, and a pastry budget that exceeds $50/month. But then also have a beer or edible (I know, scale right) more nights of the week than not. I thought I was doing ok if a bit depressed, functional. How could I think that? Everything is broken, and I let that spill out onto everyone around me.
Submitted July 28, 2018 at 06:34AM by Elevenseses https://ift.tt/2v9wUUx
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