My reply

This is my reply to a friend's post at http://www.theoutsiderontheinside.blogspot.com/.  It's date posted is 9-24-09.



Let me begin with saying that I am in no way devaluing your hurt feelings. With that said, let me explain where I was when I was contemplating suicide so that maybe you will have a few less questions regarding the whys.

I did not know your dear friend but I can relate to not letting anyone know. I think this blog came at a good time because I'm ready to talk about this experience. I might even be strong enough to blog about it.

When I get to be so sad, that I have to remind myself to breathe, that basic functions like hygiene, eating, drinking, sleeping become impossible to control; I hurt myself. So far, this and my fear of eternity have stopped me from trying to kill myself.
When I hurt myself, I do things that no one will notice, like break a toe, scrape the flesh from my shin, or pinch until I bruise but ~always~ somewhere no one can see unless we are intimate and I show them. (Which I do not do.) Yes, this is extreme behavior. Yes, this could be signs of something more. And, yes, when I'm healthy, I know there are a ton of people who would help me if they had any idea that my well of sorrow ran so deep and so fucking stagnant. With that said, the reasons I harm myself and do not share that with others is because:
1. It's my business...not theirs. I'm not being selfish with my experiences, it's that I'm the one that my friends turn to and from experience, it's unsettling to them when I'm not the rock. I'm a weird and passionate person as it is and many people have a hard time relating to me without me focusing on the aspect of my personality that is most compatible with theirs. Many believe I'm two faced or fake because of it but I'm not. I'm just flexible. I have my truths and they do not change but I'm not going to mention wild weekend to my mom's friends and I'm not going to talk about my hippy practices to my friends in the oil field. I think it's common sense. So, because of the ability to adapt and show certain aspects of me at certain times, most people are taken aback when I break down. Besides, I'm a happy person and my breakdown symptoms are only seen by those very close to me. (They usually spot something is amiss before I do.) Anyway, back on track... I do not have anyone that is truely nurturing (to me) in my life and maybe your friend didn't either.
2. Because how can I talk about it if I do not understand it myself? Some answers are bold and in plain text to most people that a few others just do not get even when the answer is told to them, or they may not understand it. I go over and over my sorrows and torments. Most of the time I can talk to someone but, and I realize this is not fair to my loved ones, if I do not "get" what you are trying to say to me or if you are not interested in my problem when I need you, then I won't talk to you about it again. I'm not going to be the person who whines about their problems all the time. I refuse to be. It is especially insulting when the answer is so blatant to them and it doesn't sink in or match my feelings. They mean me no insult, this I understand, but in my weakened mind frame, I feel stupid and that is not something I will tolerate of myself. I'm not fucking stupid. When I'm healthy, I understand they aren't trying to call me stupid but I simply can not see that when I'm sick.
3. When I get to the point that I want to end life, I tend make sure not to let anyone know because of this: How would you feel right now if your friend told you his/her plans and you were:

~too slow to stop it and got there with them dying and in pain and you couldn't save them

~too slow and got there with them already gone

~in both cases you would have legal troubles.

~if you were able to talk to them about it but it was not enough for them...wouldn't you feel inadequate?
Even as a sick person, I knew that some friends would give their lives to save mine. I would not ask that of anyone! Especially when I'm feeling inadequate enough to die. Even if someone offers something like a place to stay that is safer than my situation, I often do not take it because I'm ashamed of the situation I've gotten myself into or because of the "after." The "after" is that point where you climb back out from the bottom and realize how low you allowed yourself to get and feel ashamed because you burdened others and/or they saw you at your worst. It's like the walk of shame... the tears are gone and you look at everything someone has sacrificed and moved around in their life for your sake and you feel worthless for requiring that of them.
Also, I've toyed with the concept that there must be something really wrong with me when I reach out to God and cannot feel joy or even lessening pain. For me, it does not make me question God's existence but it may for him. It makes me question my actions and thoughts to see if I caused Him to not help me/not love me/ not care. How can telling someone else your problems help when talking with God didn't?
I believe your friend DID have his loved ones in mind when he chose to not tell anyone before it happened. As a healthy person, I can see how his friends would have given almost anything to prevent it, however, in a sick mind, it seems impossible to let that happen.
I truly hope this helped more than it harmed.

Dear Dinner Date,

Hi!

It's nice to meet you. Please let's get this straight right away.

1. Please do not send me a picture of you without your shirt on. It does not make me want to take off my shirt too, not even if you say please. It is insulting that you ask.
2. Do not act bored. Even if you are bored, it is not only insulting, it shows bad manners. You are only bored if you are boring. It has nothing to do with me.

3. I can talk to anyone! I'm a little shy but if you take the time to come out with me, I will keep things going...even if I have to talk about the chips and salsa. Do NOT make me talk about the chips and salsa. Now, if it's fantastic that's different, but if you are looking at anything other than me and just nodding when there is a pause....you again, are insulting me.

4. Do not bitch about the prices of the food. It shows that you are a cheap ass. If you have taken me somewhere cheap to begin with, and are bitching anyway, there will not be a second date. If it really was an expensive place, just bite your tongue and pay the bill. You suggested this place and if you complain once we get there, if makes me feel as if you saw me and do not find me worthy of spending money on.



This is insulting.

Silver tongued liar

Anthony been kind of flaky lately. It starts with this big ordeal, we kept it to ourselves BUT, his alter ego, Loki, came out with some pretty devistating results. Granted, I think I handled myself well. I really do. This time, I'm so sure of it that I do not need to ask someone else. I'm at peace with most of my decisions that night. He was upset that he had to watch the kids for whatever reason, and started drinking vodka. I thought nothing of it because he drinks an awful lot and doesn't get out of hand. Usually...not tonight. Loki came out and convinced me that he was in love with me in a way that he could never be with Mimi and it made me feel good. I thought it was permission to feel completely what may come emotionally. (He really did not seem all that drunk.) Then he convinced me that it was ok to have sex together, or make love, as he put it. I was unsure of his motive, why the sudden change etc. So, I asked lots of questions, and he answered them flawlessly. I stopped wondering why the change when he finally shook my shoulders and said, "Brandi, are you retarded?! I want YOU!"

That pulled my heart strings in the right way and I agreed to sleep with him because I thought that was what HE wanted. Of course, it wasn't so bad on my side either ;). However, he was insatiable. He did not want anything but vaginal intercourse. After a while, I got sore. He kept trying to manipulate me into letting him have sex with me again anyway. In his mind, his penis could not harm anything when it felt so good to him. I would explain to him that it hurt me and I had to stop but he would soon forget and remind me again that he was not satisfyed. I realized at this point that he was not all there. That Anthony, was barely there. I tried to appease Loki, as he later became named, and I took him kindergarten style and showed him with his fingers where it hurt me and not to touch me there. Not even this worked. Eventually, he passed out.

I did have to get up and physically leave the room first though. He was agressive and handsy.

I'm so fucking thankful that I knew ANTHONY before this and love him so much that it didn't scare me any more than it did. Honestly, I'm afraid if it had been anyone else, he would have had a date rape case on his hands. That's terrible. Anthony is better than that. He doesn't deserve that. But it was really tough to see when he was Loki.

He kind of down played it the next day when I told him. He even told Mimi that he didn't do anything awful. I think it was awful. I felt awful during AND even worse the next day when he didn't remember any of it; when he reminded me that he and I could never be. I felt like I was the violator. I honestly, did not think he was in blackout mode. He was slurring a little and the more he drank, more signs came out but he got naked first thing when he walked in the door. He was intent on getting what he wanted and that night it was sex. I guess Loki will tell a girl whatever he thinks she wants to hear.

I knew that I wanted him to love me. But, I was ok that he didn't until I heard that he did from his own lips.

My heart got pretty bruised that day.

Anthony

I feel like I should blog this, like this is not just one of those bad relationships I'm pushing myself into for a few fleeting moments of happiness. I met Anthony on Thursday the 23 of July. He was coming here to hang out with my roommate. I had been home for most of the day because my boss told me to answer the phone from home. So, I did, without doing my hair or dressing like someone who has been out of bed for a week. He come in, guitar in hand, looking very hippy/boheme in jean shorts, an unbuttoned short sleeved white over shirt with blue flowers and a beret. Well, I guess it's not a beret but I do not know the word for what it really is. Anyway, he ws looking very attractive and very much out of my league. He seemed older but still radiated youth. Within ten minutes of meeting him, I was awe struck and asked him to never leave. Of course at that time I was meaning because he would sing and play guitar. I did not know that I would form so much adoration for this person.

Dear Stupid Fucking Redneck,

Please put on a shirt.

This rule applies to all men sending pictures of themselves over the Internet.

Yes, there are great looking men out there. However, I'm willing to bet if you're sending your pictures over the Internet to someone you haven't met....you aren't one of them.

Please Mr. Redneck, do not let your kid into my car without a child seat. I do not care if Illegitimate Izzy does it all the time, it does not make her safe. You drive like an asshole regardless of whether Bastard Billy is in the car so strap the little booger down nice and tight, just in case.

Mr. Redneck, I know I asked for your assistance in finding me illicit substances. Thank you for your help. No thank you for bringing your kid along. That just pisses me off. I really do not care that we dropped her off at grandma's work; being as you got out of the car, instructed the child to "geddout" and we pull away before grandma is found and the child is left wandering the front yard, I would rather have taken her with us.

By the way, when she calls you Daddy, she isn't playing you ignorant fuck, it means she looks up to your stupid ass and you better watch what you do and say around her before she hates you too.

I'm writing to let you know, I will need your help next time or well, ever because no bud in the world is worth seeing someone treat a child so poorly.

Rot in hell,
One unsatisfied customer.

Dear Social Retard,

Dear Social Retard,

You suck. We both know this. However, I had a temporary lapse in judgement and had faith in humanity (which I thought included you, not excluded you) to not drop their life's baggage at my door. I was wrong.

And oh, how wrong I was.

I encourage you to take your drama and shove it up your ass. If that is not an option, I can arrange for someone to help you do this. Yes, I am THAT thoughtful. :)

If your drama is left within my social circle, I will dispose of it in whichever manner I see fit. (And believe me retard, shoving up your ass is, by far, the most pleasant scenario I've come up with yet.)

Just to be clear, if any more drama/baggage/bullshit is left within my care, I will set it on fire.

Thank you for your time,
Please die slowly. :)

Carboholic

I really thought I was a carboholic. I've throughly enjoyed my carby foods all of my life more than any other foods. But, I've chosen to take the plunge and my last ditch effort, and attempt to minimize my intake of carbs for the sake of my weight. I can't believe how big I am somedays. It kills me how people that hang out with me will say all these mean things about people half my size and not even consider that I'm twice their size. I'm like them with elephantitus of the everything. I've tried many things to make myself fall out of the obese category and they have all failed. I've exercised for 4 hours a day 6 days a week and I still did not drop the weight....any weight. So, I'm dropping my bad carb intake.

I'm not very happy with it. The first day was easy. My body wanted all that protein. The second day was ok until I realized I had consumed three times the amount of allotted good carbs in the wheat thins I was eatting. I really felt starved even though my belly was full. I still do two days later. I broke down and ate something carby last night but I made sure it wasn't one of my go-to carbs that I love. I had a pb and j on whole wheat. The pb and j portion was the bad part. It was not terribly bad but it was not a good carb. It tasted heavenly and I heavily craved more.

I might be a lot happier if I were to eat that at night and be good during the day. I don't remember where I read it but I think I found a place that said if you are eatting bad carbs, do it as your last meal of the day. I really hope that web site was right because it makes me feel so much better. I'll continue to stay away from foods that are fried and whatnot...no sugary sodas etc., but it sure does help me feel good to have those carbs at night.