Loneliness

Three years ago I asked for independence. And three years later I got it. I don’t need to give you 13 reasons why. I only need to give you one. That one reason is me. We decide our own fate. Not other people. Yes, they can be a major influence on how we decide but the ultimate decision lies with us. The person who chooses to end a life is the person responsible so the person to blame really should be ourselves. You may disagree but a suicidal person is never quite right in the head. That, I can justify for sure. And no matter what you do, it always comes back to haunt you. It’s almost like an addiction, a temptation. Maybe that’s why society files us away into categories. Categories they don’t want to face with. Because the truth is ugly and painful. The truth is mental illness is an issue. It’s a problem everyone can face given enough stress. It’s not something we’re born with or inherited. It’s something we develop from the ongoing pressures of our environment. And it goes hand in hand with everything that causes depression.

The solution is simple, ask for help. But solutions are never simple. Nobody likes to admit that there is something wrong with them. I know for a fact that I would never ask for help myself (so am I a hypocrite?). Well, yes and no.

I’m lucky because I think I have a varying degree of bi-polarism or whatever shitty labels society has decided to put on it. When I’m in darkness I have someone there to help me find a way out. But some people are not so lucky. Maybe their vision has been blinded for so long. Maybe they have been left in the dark for too long. But nobody knows and that’s when things really do get shitty.

Everyone has a dark place, those who think they don’t are just blessed to never have been put under the stress to find it but having a dark place doesn’t mean we should get treated like we’re “sick and diseased”. The human mind is the most precious and fragile thing in the world and as cliche as this sounds, the best medication for it is love and nurture. Those that have been feed love and nurture all their lives are obviously more resistant to dark thoughts. Some are so strong they can completely repel from even thinking about it. Some of us, are not so lucky.

Having suicidal thoughts isn’t a necessary bad thing for me but like I said, I’m an odd case. I’ve always been an odd case. It makes me bolder in terms of living a bit more because I think to myself, “If I’m going to end my life right now, I might as well do all the things I was too scared to do before I end it” and that usually pushes me forward because I have a million things on my to-do-list so suicide can wait, for now.

Having gone through these thoughts more than once, I know things do eventually get better. So I think that’s the message I’m trying to get across today. It’s not the perfect solution to whatever dark place you’re currently in. But if the solution is to end your life, stop and think about all the other things you can do before you end your life. Because once you do, that’s it. There is no going back.

If life wants to treat you like shit, then shit on it first, don’t be the weaker one. Stand up for yourself and fight. Because you are the ultimate decider of your own fate, your own life. And if all else fails, seek help. I mean, what else have you got to lose anyway? You only have one life and trust me, your life is worth saving.

– FuturePresentsPast

Advertisements

The path to no where

That’s what it feels like doesn’t it? The future, I mean. A path unknown like a path to no where but every step we take is somewhere and every step into somewhere is a step into the future.

And just like the future, I have no idea where this post is going. I don’t have an excuse or an explanation to describe why I stopped writing for two years (well, almost two years). I guessed I got shy to expose so many of my secrets online (even though it may be anonymous). I don’t know why I started writing again. I thought I stopped because I found happiness. And maybe because this blog contains the scars I could not carry so I couldn’t bring myself to be exposed to it again. 

I don’t know who reads these posts and I don’t know why but I’m going to keep writing anyway because that’s what I feel like doing in the present. I’m too tired to remember the burden of the past and I’m too nervous to focus on the mysteries of the future so I’ll just appreciate what is happening now. 

And right now, my family is playing a card game while I’m sitting in the dining room writing. I should probably join them onto the path to no where. 

A Chain of Events

An estranged whimper escapes my tongue,
A street of strangers stares me down,
Some politely offer help,
I reject and deny again.
I appreciate your kindness but it could not accommodate me.
I run towards the only peace I know,
The bells sing an hour has gone.
I race up to the helping hands,
Only to be chased away by ants.
Next came the statue of peace,
Where dead soldier lies with liberty.
I can only think back to the time,
Where my friend and I sat discussing life.
Now I am here all alone,
Discussing life on my own.
An old man walks by twice,
Maybe the third time he would ask me why?
It turns my weak bladder control,
Sent me sprinting for toilet rolls.
A half hour left until it close,
A half hour for somewhere to go.

When seven came,
I went back home.
Scared and frightened,
More than before.

When nine came,
I walk in the dark,
An hour long,
All sixty minutes of luck.

When midnight came,
I wrote this down.
Hoping someday possibly one day,
I will never have to count.

Slavery

Slavery is when your master is always right,
Even when she is wrong,
Slavery is living with the dread,
That your life is far too long.
Slavery is an accusation,
For things you’ve never done,
Slavery is your life on threat,
Your body will never be found.
Slavery is when your rights are lost,
And you disappear into oblivion,
Slavery can break you,
From everything to none.
Slavery reduces you,
It consumes your mind,
Slavery can make you hate,
Until your heart is blind.
Slavery is my home,
A place I do not feel safe in,
Slavery is all I’ve known,
A life full of sin.
Slavery can bake your soul,
Until you’re beyond burned,
Slavery is when she slaps you,
For reasoning and educating her.
Slavery is when you’re forced,
With violence and abuse,
Only once you’ve been exhausted of use,
They sell you off for a new.

Where Do I Begin?

PERSONAL
Dear Reader,
I’m not ok. I’m sure you know that by now. I know there are some people out there who genuinely care and there are those who are just genuinely interested. Whichever category you belong to, I thank you. I thank you for your time, your patience, and your wasted energy at reading these pathetic posts. I thank you for doing the very things my so-called “beloved” ones choose to ignore and abandon.
Since starting this blog, I’ve come to realise the suicide is not the solution. I really hope those who think it is will eventually see. But also note that it is temptation at weak moments like these. It’s the easy way out. Everyone makes mistakes, I just hope I won’t regret making this one when the time comes.
People are not aware of what happens behind closed doors, a happy family could be a false cover, a facade. I know mine is.
These situations occur almost at chance. They’re unpredictable and unspeakable. This is why I thank the invention of technology. Maybe nobody will ever see this but I feel like I am talking to someone.
I have no idea what to do with my life. I want to continue living, I want to move out, I want to have nothing to do with any of these people ever again. None of which is possible without money. Money; it is a man’s best friend and worse enemy.
Money is the language of our society. It’s what keeps those who need help in the quiet dark and it’s what frees the criminals that should be jailed.
I’m sorry. I said this would be a personal post and yet with every word I’m typing, I’m straying further from the truth of this situation. I’m protecting the people who are hurting me, who have hurt me all my life.
I’m sure you know who they are….
People whom I can never cleanse myself from because at the end of the day, we are related by blood.
Family
A normal person would associated the word “family” with love and comfort. I feel nothing. I have a deeper understanding for the word ‘hatred’ than the word ‘family’. I wish I didn’t but….
I’m sitting in the only room with a lock. It’s not strong but it provides barrier…
It’s always so cold in here.
None of this makes sense and I apologise again. I’m not going to expose them, I didn’t put myself through all this pain to expose them now but I do fear that if this continues any longer, I will be gone forever.
I just want to leave.

Situations like these always begin small. It would be overlooked by some people because of it’s minority. I am part of that minority.
It started a few hours ago I suppose. My youngest sibling (who is regarded to to be the most important in this household) attacked me. I defended by counter-attacking. I am bullied by the eldest of this family, I will not tolerate abuse from both sides. Of corse, they only witnessed the part where I counter attacked (although it was obvious to even the most simple minded that I was defending myself). My ‘I treat everybody equally’ mother yelled at me. And this younger sibling fuelled the situation by mocking pain. I know what pain is and it did not sound like pain. This enraged my mother so I defended myself verbally. Here is where all logic become buried and only arbitrary rules are the social norm.
1). I was not to speak back when she is supposedly ‘teaching’ me a lesson
2). This lesson revolved around the ‘fact’ that I could have caused long term injury to my sibling.
3). My sibling is still ‘young’ and in the development mode. I should have handled it without aggression or in other words, I should have stood there and let my younger sibling beat the crap out of me in the exact same way as they do.
4). “I will fucking kill you if you do it again”.
That was a few hours ago.
I thought this situation have concluded when I ran to my room and cursed them.
About an hour ago….
They brought it up again. My mother involved my father this time. He’s a serious psychopath (without the aid of alcohol). I know alcoholics should not be excused but at the very least, you know their judgement was impaired during whatever crime they commit. My father is on a whole new level of psycho-“path”. I really don’t feel like talking about this now. I know that if they ever find this, that I’ve been feeding little secrets exposing them to the public, they will kill me. I’m not scared of death, I scared of the pain they can cause me before death is merciful. Speaking of different ways to torture someone, he’s definitely stepped up his threats. It used to be threatening to kill me but knowing that’s become slightly ineffective, he went and got a stun “torch” which he threatens to electrocute me with. I’m sure ownership of such a weapon is illegal without a licence but then again, what can I do about it? Nothing.
Nothing is always sensible.
My parents definition of a perfect child:
1). Say Nothing
2). Do Nothing
3). Be Nothing
What a joyful life.
It’s too bad I would most probably take my life before I ever fulfil their dreams.

Final Note:I do not need help. My answer may have been different ten years ago but that was the past, I’m neither stronger nor wiser but I know this storm is coming to an end, the pain is waning, and even if I do need help, nobody can help me. Everything comes at a cost and my price is seriously not worth it.
AND
Whatever misfortune made you stumble upon this post and read through the entire thing, I hope you are well. And if you are not, just keep believing you will be because that’s what I’m hoping for and it’s what kept me here (alive) all these years.

I salute your kindness,
-FuturePresentsPast

Wave After Wave…

Waves[Wave After Wave]

She bit me this time,

Teeth marks on left thigh,

I held on so tight,

Yet she yanked me apart. 

The grey clouds outside,

Reflects my inner self. 

The uncertainty of it all,

Things I couldn’t tell. 

She tore and twists my ligaments,

And pins me in a fatal position.

She strips and tear all I own,

My clothes, My mind, My soul.

She sits there one top of me,

In all her glory.

I stare at nothing,

And I see everything.

I can’t tell anymore,

What is right and what is real. 

I want to burn all that she owns,

To show her how I feel.

But how does one oppose a wave,

Whose twice as rough as you?

 

A little too late…

It’s such a little thing,
You’ll whisper it in my ear.
You say you’re teaching me,
The ways of life,
And how to speak.
I must be respectful,
To friends and family.

I tell you I am respectful,
I’m welcomed among my peers.
I smiled and greet those strangers,
Whose names I know not yet.
I’ll stay and talk all day,
Until they bore and take their leave.
So I ask this time after time,
How do I disrespect?

You hit me over the head,
And tell me to shut up instead.
Don’t talk back you’ll say,
As tears stream down my cheeks.
This is what I call disrespect,
Picking on the weak.
So I shut up like you said,
Yet you keep bringing it up again.

You say I turn a small problem,
Into a chaotic mess.
But I am not the one,
Stirring up trouble,
Until you can win again.
You arbitrary lies may have convinced you,
But they’ll never distort my view.
You may imprison my body and soul,
But my mind will be free to think.

You say you have the right to abuse me,
And do whatever you please.
Because deep in your heart,
There is no joy or spark,
For the child you once cradled.
You drove me to my mental illness,
You left behind physical scars,
And to this day,
This very day,
You’ve never regretted a single part.

You were suppose to be the people,
Who should love me unconditionally.
The very place I should have received love,
You left me a countless number of scars.
If I had a choice about my birth,
I truly wish you me aborted,
If only I had died in your womb,
A single miscarriage or two.
The most heartbreaking thing I know is,
The painful truth of it all,
You would grief and love the unborn me,
More than you could ever love me.