Man presses button, penis falls off.

Placing here so will not be seen. Need to yell though, thus.

I am not doing good tonight. Can not manage to do anything. Trying to decide in what capacity remaining time. Not sure of duration. Hate myself, want to really stab myself. Punishment. Direction is set, can not change. Scared. Tired. Need mental and physical space, everything is stagnant. There is no future. I am not and never have been part of this world, not like how everybody else is. Coping: make no waves, follow, mimic, pretend. I was too successful. Hidden: stress, pain, confusion, distance, frustration, anger. My emulation is almost complete. There are holes, but hidden. So many strings entangled in one knot. I am beginning to understand how the knot was created but I am unable to express, to articulate it. Words are not my friend. My representation is incorrect, a copping mechanism. I did not choose it, necessity did.

Time, for most purposes, is a one way function. Death is a one way function. No, this is incorrect. I am missing the language to properly express. That is a problem. Interaction, need to provide something, seems reasonable, choose it. Not representation of actual. People Objects. Easter, abnormal circumstances. Stress, uncertainty, anger. I do not want to deal with it. Trapped in so many ways. Impossible.

Coping took all resources, present, future not known, unplanned; mimicking others such that I did not lead my own life, plan, explore. Following. No waves. Pretend. Lost in another a slightly different dimension, controlling marionette beyond glass. Now stuck, can not be self. If only I had the support, if it had been seen, at least acknowledged, given the nourishment necessary. Too late now, set.

If I have never been a part of this world, what is to stop death. No links form myself to others. Few from others to self. To truly join the world requires unattainable scarce resources, resources better allocated to others. Projected paths are ill-defined, general direction unsatisfactory. Objective view. Is necessity forcing my hand yet again. Proper presentation requires skills I will never have.

Baggage, burden, self all conspire. Lay it down. Stretch. Breath. For one brief moment my reality could be primary and I could exit in its comfort.

Status - Safe: borderline, Intrusive Thoughts: yes, many, Suicidal ideation: yes, Suicidal: somewhat, Hallucinations: no, Delusions: maybe, but they are reasonable I think, Depressed: yes Thoughts: soft, diffused, slow, moving Concentration: poor Medication Hygiene: Ok, Sleep: poor

Had to try to vomit thoughts into words, sometimes it helps.

/r/thebutton Thread Parent