[bluebird]

look at all these beans i need to spill
bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean (withheld) bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean (redacted) bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean (pending) bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean (dontbeana$s) bean bean bean bean bean bean bean bean

[Patcharhoo]

I ran away from my family around the age of eighteen to escape from a pretty abusive mother after my ill father passed due do head trauma issues. From the age of fourteen to eighteen I stepped in for my mother and took care of my disabled father until he left me and I had waited until then because I knew the guilt of leaving him with her would have eaten me up inside.

Anyways, I haven't changed my cell number in all these years so my family keeps calling me and i'v grown a huge phobia of even touching my phone. I don't want to speak to them at all, but I also can't grow the balls to fully cut them out. They always call around the holidays and I take forever to listen to their voicemails they leave. It always makes me break down completely. My mother's messages are always the worst though.. It's like something breaks inside of me completely breaks for several days.

[EverAshwood]

My abusive, narcissistic mother blocked me in every way she can because she's "sick of me playing the victim all the time" and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm having less episodes of depression, and finally sleeping deep enough to dream regularly again for the first time since I was like 8.

But I can't help but feel guilty for the progress. She's still my mother, even if she is a cunt.

[Den]

I think I need an adjustment or change of medication again. I'm not feeling like I did a couple years ago, but I just feel 'off'. I was fine while I was out visiting the boyfriend, aside from one day where I just couldn't seem to get enough sleep, and I was fine the day after I got back, but today, I just felt like not getting out of bed at all, even with it being nice and sunny outside. I did get some stuff done today, and took my meds like I'm supposed to (I'm really good about that for the most part), but my eyes hurt, and I feel like if I lay down, I'll just go to sleep.

And Mom's said part of next week (when the school district is on spring break) is going to be spent "dealing with the basement". which means I'll have to put away everything of mine related to my hobbies, and that I'll have to argue to have a space that isn't secluded in a corner somewhere only to be told to put it all away and not get it out again (yet again. it's happened before).

Oh, and next week, she and I go for another mediated discussion with my therapist...

[bluebird]

THAT DOESNT SEEM RIGHT YA

[EverAshwood]

I've honestly almost killed myself several times in the past 12 hours. If my friend hadn't realized my subtle cries for help and taken me out to breakfast, I'd be bloody in the bathtub right now.

[bluebird]

no

[Pirouetting Nightmare]

I worked hard for 8 years to become a great artist, and was finally almost at the level I had wanted to be. A really bad accident happened that wasn't my fault, and I learned many things.

How useless doctors are, how expensive it could be just to end up with the same result in the end, how you can be in your 20s and get your life stolen from you, your dreams shattered, how you can be utterly alone and sometimes you do need someone to help you out when bad things happen. They were all bad doctors that believed it wasn't that bad, but then it turned out it was, and I have permanent nerve damage, and I can't art or type long without lava flowing through my arm, and even if I ignore it, it and my hand will just stop working. I learned how cruel humans could be to people they don't care about. I learned that my parents were capable of threatening to kick me out if I didn't do stuff for them with a freshly broken body, rather then them be comforting and do stuff for me. I learned that it can take 18 months to 3 years to get to know if the government will call you disabled or not. I learned that most states aren't even above 50% approval rating and there's even one at 18% approval rating. People are something they line their pockets with, not that they help in any way.

I want to escape being trapped in 100 square feet. I only have one person in my life that I talk (aka text only) on a daily basis, and they live many many states away and usually aren't there for me when I'm feeling awful, and I've been in need of advice, but I've never found anyone that could give me any. My life has always been that way, and I have always sought and held refuge on the online world since around 2001-2004 era because of how awful the people in my family and area can be.

I haven't been able to view the future as anything at all now, when there's nothing I can do now other than try to survive, because most my old hobbies and abilities aren't something I can indulge in. Sometimes I would like to believe there is meaning.

[dirkydoodle]

I keep remembering traumatic things of my past, but I won't tell anyone because I don't want them to worry. Plus I've believed that it reallyet isn't that bad but from what I have told people I've been told it is.

Suicide has been on my mind and I've been harming myself again because of it. I don't want him to know this, he gets upset when I do it and it makes me feel terrible. It's a bad habit and hard to break.

He's the only one I talk to now but right now we're on a break and I'm avoiding messaging him as long as I can. I'm terrified of losing him like I lost everyone else though. I'm terrified that everyone has left me because I'm a super toxic bad person that everyone hates.

I wish I would just die, or even better that I wasn't even born. Not being born would mean no repercussions of my no existence so

[Den]

Fucking anxiety... fucking piece of shit back... fucking job postings that want a glorified maid.

[bluebird]

Sometimes you might say yourself, "man, I'm pretty weird." But then you're reminded how much further you can go.

[KittyBeary]

When it seems things are going great, something has to turn them around and put me in a bad mood. Now I'm just feeling dull atm. :/ Ugh.

[bluebird]

that mods do read literally every single post on that site
i feel touched
but at the same time
so vulnerable

they're one of the few ppl that know
my true weight
as trash ofc

but who watches the watchmen

[dirkydoodle]

I feel nothing.

[bluebird]

why how i have
so many questions

[Kaderin Triste]

I look down at my scars, so light against my skin, one hidden carefully behind a tatto, but I can still faintly see it; can trace it even though it's faded more than the other. 10 years. It's been 10 years sonce I made these scars, since I was so depressed, so alone, so empty that I wanted to die. But not empty enough to do it because I was still too scared of the pain to do it so I just grabbed the closest object, a thumbtack, a sewing needle, I don't remember what and I carved it over and over, up and down my arm almost, but not right above my vein, over and over until it bled juuust a little. And then I picked the scab for weeks, months even. And when it finally healed, I started on the other arm.
All I wanted was for someone to notice, to say something; anything. To just smile and say "hey, want to get some coffe?" Anything other than their fake, plastered on smiles. Their awkwardness as they noticed and looked away. They did't have to ask about it. All I wanted was a real, genuine interaction with someone. To be treated like a real person, not just some empty android; a shell of a person who isn't really there.
I had done so much better. I hadn't felt like this in such a long time. In the back of my head, I want to believe that people out there actually care. Not say they care because I; we, those so lost and empty and alone express a desire or urge to harm ourselves, but to actually care. But I am empty and alone and I feel myself itching for the feel of a thin needle between my fingers, the dull then sharp scratching as it slowly makes it's little groove, the subtle hint of red when it hits deep enough. Because, let's face it, who's gonna stop me? There's no one here. I am alone. I will always be alone.

...and I am so fucked up that I don't trust anyone anyway...