Many people might not understand, that I learned how to die because I wanted to die and now I know how to die and it is easier to die now.
Of course it isn’t easy like eating a bread for example (which sometimes also isn’t too easy), but compared to how I thought about how to die compared to now, it is way easier now.
But now that I learned how to die and I am almost dead, when I look at my body (no it isn’t this worse from the outside, but it feels this worse), I still have not enough reasons to live. I lived to find a way to die faster and I found many ways, not just the fastest, but the most efficient ones, the long term ones and disgusting ones. I know a lot about how to die, I think it is time for a change.
I knew all about a real life, about how to live to the fullest, how to succeed, reach what I wanted and so on, when I was little. Up to elementary school I just naturally learned new things because I wanted to understand. I just succeeded because I thought it was the best way and I wanted to. I just had no pressure at first because I just wanted to learn, to know and I just lived.
But after so many traumatic events, the strange behaviour of people and in general the society, I soon realized that I must be wrong. They do it differently, so I must be doing things in a wrong way. And I started to hate myself because I seemed to break things, people and all around me was pain and problems. And I thought I was the cause because I even got told I was by my own dad. So I forgot about how to live because I thought, my way of life was totally wrong. And now I see it was what all want to have and I gave it away to die, to find a way to die. “How does it feel?”
It feels like hell, literally. I am always doing things wrong it seems because I came on this earth with too much love and happiness that I thought I had to change, while I should have never started the change.
It feels like an irreverable damage, I know it isn’t, but it is pretty hard.
And I have to be honest to you, right now I again just want to die.
Interpret it how you want, for this just means, to finally go and don’t care anymore what more problems I will cause, what I just caused and what I did in the past. I wouldn’t be able to harm more people by manipulating them without the actual need to or me wanting to manipulate them, but it sometimes just happens “naturally”. I became my worst nightmare because for me the world, the life the showed me, was a nightmare. I had to become the nightmare, to accept the nightmare, or so I thought.
No one would believe me, if not even I can believe me.
I know I sound like a child sometimes or maybe always, I don’t know.
All I learned was to care for other people because this is what I got taught.
And then in the end I learned how to manipulate people as well.
I don’t know what it is, do I really want to help people or is it just a narcisstic believe, which makes me feel good? – No, not really. But who would trust me? Tell me? Who would believe me, because I could also just manipulate you into thinking that I am a good person. How should you know? But I don’t want to be that person, but I know I am, at least way too often.
And phrases like “Please, get help if you need help”, “you are not alone”, “Talk to a therapist”, “there are pills which can help with it”, “it is okay to have problems”, “we all have problems”, “we all have our down times”, …
aren’t helping me. They make it only worse. Why? Because I feel so much dumber this way, way worthless and broken. Don’t ask why. It is just, that everybody seems to know what is going on, while my opinion is not important because I am the one with the problem. I have to fix the problem, so then my opinion is important again.
(Did anybody say this to you?)
(So why do you write it then?)
Because it feels as if they say it.
(So you have problem? And you need help?)
Damit man, didn’t you at least try to understand?
(No? I mean it is pretty obvious that you have a problem. Just let somebody help you, okay?)
FFS, can’t you understand or don’t you want to understand?
(Just get help, okay? It isn’t bad to get help.)
Yeah, yeah. See you later…
Yep, this is how it feels when people say, there is help for you.
At least for me it feels like this. And yes, this is just a made up converstation to explain how it feels when I hear or read things like, “You are not alone.”
Words can’t describe all feelings, but at least try to, if someone has no idea what you are talking about. Maybe it just makes it worse. But I just give it a try anyways, what do I have to lose? Only my positive image, I personally hate because I can’t keep up with it anymore, I lost it a long time ago. But no one seemed to notice it because it still shines and presents me. The perfect child, the successful young man, the one who is not to intelligent, but still gets a job. (well some people might still believe I am intelligent, but some more recent ones might think I am an idiot or something, I personally would agree, but well who am I, right? I broke myself… hahaha… very funny)
We are all film characters, not because we are all special, but because we don’t have to be special to get into a film. Life as it is, is a movie, only with real endings, without the good old “happy ending” all the time. A real story is always better than a fictional story, but only if it is really a real story. And for me a real story is, when you live life the way you want it to or you honestly think and tell, what it feels to live your life. Not what you would tell your coworkers, neighbours, boss or even your family. What you really feel inside. And this is the story of my life in some way.
It might be not the whole story, because I don’t want to be put into a box, where I shouldn’t be put in. I would personally put myself into this box, but only if I consider it as a static thing, without the possibility to change. And I know that it isn’t what I love and want and I know that it was created out of other problems and feelings which got hurt. You could maybe point such things to genes, to an unenevitable source, you could do these things, but then we could just kill most of us. Not because we have to, should do (of course not, why should we kill anyone), but so many things got taught to be like this forever, all just lies. Only if we believe the lie it is true.
So if I would believe that I could become a serial killer, I would become one, this doesn’t mean that this is how all killers think about it, but this is my story. And I didn’t kill anyone, just to be clear, but I know the feeling which could cause me to kill someone and it is pretty horrible, trust me.
So I can understand the worst people, in fact I can probably understand the most feared, hated and dangerous people.
The thing is, do you have to commit a crime, to be a criminal?
In my eyes, you don’t have to and I even did illegal things, not because I really wanted to do them, but I somehow got there through my journey of getting stranger, “normal”, or so I thought. It wasn’t, but I realized when it was already over. But it haunts me to this day. I won’t write it down here, just yet. But you will be shocked and even I am to this day because I personally hated such things with disgust. But the conclusion you might think of, would be wrong. Only if you understand it out of own experiences, you can at least try to make a conclusion with some kind of justice and right to do so. Someone who never did a crime, can’t understand how a crime can be prevented. Someone who didn’t hack a program, won’t understand how it works. They all just assume or believe what they get told.
When I watched a TV show with crimes, maybe it was “Tatort” or “Polizeiruf 110”, where basically someone got killed and then they try to find the murderer. You all know how it goes, I suppose.
But this one show still sits inside my brain because it made me realize how horrible we humans are in different ways.
It was about a child which got raped and killed and just a short time prior in the town a guy got out of prison who already commited such a crime before. So all people in the village thought it was him. They wrote horrible things, probably even spit on him etc.
People he personally knew even thought it was him and he was just alone with his pain. He took pills because he had to, but they didn’t help with his real problem. Long story short, it wasn’t him, it was just another older guy, I think it even was the neighbour of the dead child, but to this point everyone already told this other guy all this things and believed it was him. So in the end, even though he was free to go because he didn’t do it this time, he wanted to go back into prison. He got used to it and it was easier than living in a free world, but still feeling like a prisoner.
Of course they said, that he can’t go into jail for nothing, so he just jumped in front of a by passing bus and this was the final scene. And because of this strange story and ending, it was more real and not just this basic “police finds crime, searches for traces, gets criminal, the end”. No it was about a guy, who did such a crime, but actually knew it was wrong and probably suffered from it the whole time. But no one cared for him because he was the one who did the bad thing.
You could say, well he better feel like shit for what he did. Of course, all people do that, but maybe this was the cause for it. Or just the society which wants so many things from us, which shouldn’t be necessary or in this way.
When the damage is done, we always make it worse. When someone walks into a school with a gun and kills people, the whole family is the killer and they are all bad people all of a sudden. Even the one killing is the worst person ever, always was and all knew it was this way. Of course…
But most of them, just wanted to have someone who loves them how they are and maybe help them to feel better and actually do the good things they want.
I believe most people want to do good things, when they are younger, but they get used to bad things too soon, so they stop thinking about good things. And if you judge about someone you don’t know (what we most of the time do, me included), this person could be way different than you think, but you don’t care because you know what someone said and what happened. The one killing people may have been a victim themselves for far too long, one way or another. It doesn’t excuses their bad actions, of course not, but it should give us a hint, that we could have pretended it.
But we are used to criminals, so they are all bad because we aren’t, right?
What I am saying is, does hate bring people back? No.
Does it help you to harm people you don’t really know, for things someone did because of things you might not even thought of? No.
So why can’t we at least not harm others for things we don’t know about?
We are strange after all.
When I “droped the bomb”, by telling all the dark secrets to my trusted friend, I thought, well this is it. It is out and now I can finally kill myself.
And actually I tried to the day after as I already wrote, but I didn’t in the end.
The trust and friendship was stronger than all the horrible things I pulled out of my darkest corners, at least we are still in contact. But I thought, this was it because I couldn’t forgive myself for it and still can’t for all.
This is why I wrote all this about the other perspective and how we react after a crime. We often don’t want to understand because it is not easy.
And this isn’t about “oh he just did it because he was sad”, no, as I said this is not excusing a horrible crime to be “just” a reaction to sadness or something like that. But I believe most of the time it starts with rejection at some point.
If someone feels alone in this world, everything is possible. But don’t confuse it with the actual need to be alone for some time because some people need to be alone some time, while others might not. Being completely alone is something different and feeling completely alone, can happen with someone who seems to be loved, have friends and no problems from the outside, while inside the more and more feel like they are different and can’t find someone who is like them or at least really tries to understand them.
Just a shame, that so many good people turn into bad people because of how the world works. The best might end up as the worst in our society because they can’t stand the masks, the force to do things they hate and the almost euphoric people about their success all the time. All the lies, the fake and than even the real happy people who don’t seem to understand, how someone can’t be happy. All of this, can make a criminal, not because they got born this way, but because we made them to think and act as one.
I am guilty of this because I gave up myself and did to myself, what others started. And I just hope I didn’t harm too many other people on my road down there. But I know I at least hurt people with it and I myself the most I think as well as my mother. She feels as if she did everything wrong, my father just did almost everything wrong and I just commited myself to these hopeless destinies at one point because life seemed not going to happen, at least not the way I thought it was when I was little. Oh boy, was I wrong and right at the same time. I had it all, but threw it away… I just hope I can fix it again over time, I know it is possible and I know I could, but I probably won’t, not on my own. The need for death is already too strong inside of me, while life couldn’t be more joyfull and exiting.
It is as if both extremes are getting more powerful, to a point until everything will explode in a supernova.
I don’t need your “helping” phrases, your knowledge about how it will be better, trust me I know it all, really. I know things on my own…
But I seem to be cursed with people thinking I know nothing because I have this look in my face, which tells them, that I must be stupid. But what it is, actually is, I don’t trust myself and I fear to fail again. Because most of the time I don’t say what I actually wanted to.
The percentage of what I actually want to say and what comes out, is probably the highest while writing, so at least around here you can find the most of it as what really goes through my head and what really is what I want and mean. But even here I can’t say all or write everything the way I would want it to be. It just doesn’t work because of my fears.
I keep thinking, what holds me back, to just go somewhere I have never been? I mean I literally want to die, so why can’t I just go somewhere where death is possible? It is fear and the knowledge, that I actually don’t want to die, but live, but I can’t and I also can’t be both at the same time for a long time, right? It destroys one.
Should I take my drug again tonight? I almost did some hours ago.
I don’t want it and I know I can withstand it, if I just want and feel good, but I am feeling strange. Because I more and more feel like a burden again because I don’t get money in right now and maybe what I planned and wanted to for so long now, doesn’t work for me. But then for whom? I have all what is needed, all except enough self love and trust in myself.
While I know I can have it. It is so strange to be able to switch from high to low and all without drugs and all without actually wanting it to happen, but then wanting it to happen. Because the brain does, what it did for the longest time, it uses shortcuts, even though they will be bad or wrong. It doesn’t care because it always “worked” this way… Brain, brain, brain… what shall I do with you?
And now I will watch the last episode of Omnisciente.