I get sad when no one hits me up to skate.
I hear you. I saw your other posts as well (your post about suicide specifically). Let me tell you, life can get better if you make an active effort to be nice to yourself. I know this can be quite difficult. I speak from experience.
I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and here is why: I raised myself basically from the age of 8. My father had serious diabetes and would always sleep while my mother hid from the family at work. As in she would leave before I woke up and come back after I went to bed. I learned to cook then and decided I had to grow up, but it was really some scared delusional thinking - I threw away all my toys on my 8th birthday. My fathers health got worse, my mother split up with him. I got pretty into substance abuse but eventually was able to mellow that out (edit 3: I still smoke massive amounts of weed. Sometimes not the best for me). I was taking care of my father by the time I was 14. I went to the hospital at least 100 times with him. By the time I was 17, taking care of my father was a serious job. My mother got breast cancer around this time but it went into remission. I left home to escape this shit when I was 18 but didn't really make too many friends. My mom came up to visit me and told me she was terminally ill now. I decided to move back home. I got home Christmas eve, she died Christmas day in my arms vomiting up huge amounts of bile. By 19 my father was starting to lose his mind, had horrible hygiene and lost a leg. I was pretty much his full time hospice caretaker at this point but lived in the garage because the house smelled so bad. I was so over it I wanted him to die. By 21, I was so used to seeing him sick that when I woke up one morning and he was on the floor, I didn't think much of it and went to the bathroom. I came out and he was dead. The 911 operator tried to explain to me how I could possibly resuscitate him and I didn't even want to try. I mean, he was definitely dead at this point and had been for hours but I think a lot of other people would have tried but I didn't want to. This was the day after Thanksgiving. My only living relatives that I want anything to do with are my sister and grandmother (who is getting really old) and both relationships are complicated (I know, a complicated relationship with a grandmother sounds strange). Things have improved a lot with both of them. There is so much more to this, I am sure you could imagine how this would taint personal relationships with friends, family and women. I contemplated suicide more than you can imagine. I got close once. I am 26 now and am finally starting to feel alive. I still have a shit ton of problems (PTSD) but have made a lot of steps in the right direction.
No matter how bad it gets, I try and remember it could be worse. I intern at this refugee relief organization and I meet people who have lost their whole families and have spent the last 10 years in a refugee camp. I try every day to be thankful for what I have. Right now I am in Southern California visiting my sister and when I get back to Berkeley I
think I have my first 'real job' lined up and 2 women's phone numbers in my phone.
Shit started to get better once I made an effort for it to get better. Edit: ElBonerGrande, I am not trying to call you out for not having a bad situation. This wasn't may intention if it seems that way. I had a point and lost it in a stream-of-consciousness rant. I think the last paragraph sort of touches on it. We all can live in our own personal hells. Start being nice to yourself and maybe try seeking some help. Life can improve and it has for me (I haven't even been able to skate for over a year because of a knee injury and I am still saying this! I think that says something). Keep your head up.
Edit 2: I totally just spilled my guts on slap and it feels good.
Topic: real confessions (Read 1740320 times)