The Beauty and Grotesque of a Common Life - Wednesday

Unknown road at night

from the suicide attempt survivor's journal:

If it's Wednesday, it must be therapy day. I got out of there sick to my stomach. They said it would help, but it makes me feel real bad. Since I woke up on that hospital bed, I haven't been able to feel anything but shame and regret, regret about how I tried to end my life, regret about being unfortunate enough to be revived, shame about failing myself and the others. I didn't really know which was worse, so I started to accumulate all this
repressed anger. I never felt sorry for myself before, yet now I did. For the past days, I felt completely helpless and frightened and (secretly) in need of compassion. I roamed the online forums looking for people in my situation, but it doesn't work that way, at least, not for me.

I know that my act was also a cry for help, for being acknowledged as a human being. I had enough isolation in the midst of society, but that was then, I don't think I need that kind of acknowledgement anymore. For now I am really confused. When I say isolation is not that people shunned me out in any way, I was close enough to my parents and I had a couple of friends, but I never knew how to really connect with those around me. I always felt inadequate and somehow tried to please my entourage, hence the discomfort in relating to the others. I was always bad at doing small talk and at the same time, awkward silence scared the shit out of me. Drinking or other psychotropic substances did the trick and turned me into this likable socialite that I could never reconcile with my other facade I used to put on when being myself. This is so messed up. I feel there's a food gate open somewhere inside and all these weird feelings start taking form.

"This pain inside I can't understand
                                                                       This hate in life that will not go away"

Adema - Pain inside

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