I'm 17 years old, and for a while now the only reason I continue to live has been the suicide barrier around the Aurora Bridge in Seattle. I have no friends, no skills, nothing to keep me occupied except my severe anxiety, depression, OCD and ADD.
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While I am occasionally involved in social situations, the outcome of these is, inevitably, complete humiliation. Sometimes I say things that are so impossibly stupid that they make everyone else around feel uncomfortable, but most of the time i say nothing at all. It takes me days of intense rumination to “get over” each successive embarrassment – which in this case means that I eventually become just too exhausted to keeping thinking about it, at least until the cycle begins again.
The one thing I desperately need, a relationship, is completely unattainable due to my physical ugliness and social awkwardness. All the suffering would just wash away if someone were to love me, but who could love someone that spends several nights a week sobbing and tearing at their hair due to intense self-loathing and loneliness? I've never kissed anyone, never known of anyone who had non-platonic feelings towards me, and yet the only thing that could make me want to live is a girlfriend. What a fuckin' combination.
I have one “friend”, the air quotes coming from the fact that I am always the one to call him and never the other way around. Today he told me about a party he had at his house last night, that i was of course not invited to, which put me through yet another wave of despair. There are countless people who fawn over him and love him – i know this from the experience of being around him and his friends, who are constantly complimenting him. He has several girlfriends (I mean that literally, he's polyamorous), and there is no worse feeling in the world than seeing them give him bottomless physical and emotional affection. And all of my intense jealousy makes me feel like i deserve everything shitty about my life.
I want to be a journalist, but my brain will never let me sit down and write something coherent except suicide notes. It's like the neurons just refuse to fire in the same direction for more than 5 minutes unless it's my problems I'm concentrating on. I've tried every ADD drug conceivable, too. My parents pretty much do my schoolwork for me because i just start crying and give up every time i try to do it. Is there anyone else out there as pathetic as that?
I'm so fucking angry all the time and I can't figure out if it's myself or the world or both I'm mad at. I try as hard as I possibly can to be a good person, but I must not be trying hard enough, if nobody wants to be around me. This isn't temporary teen angst; I've never been anything in my life but a lonely, bullied, insecure wreck.
I just want to be at peace, free from the crippling stress and despair I face everywhere I go. But of the three suicide methods that seem to actually work in a simple, quick, and painless way (guns, barbiturates, and a fall from great height) are all just as impossible for me as happiness. I live very close to the formerly second-most-popular suicide spot in the U.S., the Aurora Bridge, but you suicide-prevention fuckers and your ugly-ass $5 million fence nixed that option. I want to die and I deserve to die, so why can't I? No really, I'm curious. Explain yourselves.