Given Up

A gaunt face with sallow checks devoid of colour
Eyes that once were effervescent now appear listless and haunted
A body haunched over emitting negative energy
No eye contact no ebullient smile as she meets strangers or lifelong friends

She has given up on life
Give up on the glorious possibility of love
Given up on ever conquering or vanquishing her demons
She has succumbed to a wretched lonely life of pain

Depression follows her like a pungent noxious odour
She longs to be liberated from her deep seated psychological conditions
She aches to be happy to be normal to not be besieged with a pernicious anxiety disorder
In her forlorn mind she has given up the ghost

As she ventures outside rudimentary conversations and mundane social setting are filled with anxiety
A simple task like going shopping is pure hell
A 8 hour workday is involves a tortuous anxiety that never abates
She aches for the ecstasy of solitude where the distress alleviates somewhat

Getting home for the serenity of her grotty one bed flat
There are transient moments of inner peace
Soon though her neurotic mind is permeated with loneliness with the perennial alienation of her wretched adulthood
She lays down on her couch feeling numb feeling nothing wanting to die wanting to feel the elation of love wanting to connect with another lost soul

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A Harrowing Dream

I fell asleep and witnessed in the recesses of my subconscious a nightmare
In this dream i was back home in my childhood house
I entered my parents room with trepidation
I opened the door tentatively there was my mother not dead but alive in this vivid evocative dream

She was there with firefly red Irish hair radiant emerald green eyes
A ebullient effervescent smile that exuded love
She beckoned me on to the bed in this dreamworld i began to shed a tear or two
I sat on the foot of the bed mum hugged effusively
She wiped away my tears with her hankie and kissed me on the cheek tenderly

In this nightmare in which i felt my mums presence
Where was able to feel her love after minutes of intense embrace
My mums body evaporated as thousands of rose petals appeared on the bed
I fell to the floor crying profusely holding the rose petals a emblem of my mums love to my face
She was gone forever never disappearing into dust into the earth in this dreamworld

I awoke from this vivid traumatic nightmare
The nightmare had a profound impact on me
I was unable to fall to sleep for the rest of the night
I spent the night and early morning just staring with agony at a assortment of pictures of my mum and me I have preserved for posterity to keep alive the enduring memory of my mums love her abiding charismatic personality

Tears Of Rage

Mother why have you forsaken me
I was only 13 you left my life forever
Suicide that my fragile heart shattered irrecoverably damaged
I cried tears of rage night after night in the aftermath of your untimely demise

God why have you let this tragedy transpire
Why didn’t you shelter my mother from the tumultuous storms of her emotional torment
Why didn’t you assuage her pain with comfort
Why did you let this happen what benevolent omnipotent being would let a mother kill herself at such a tender age

The rage hasn’t abated its a rage at god at my mother
I feel robbed of the love she would have bestowed on me
Growing up with my struggles without the radiance of her maternal love
My mothers harrowing suicide has scared forever

I keep a shrine to my mum in my bedroom
Once a month i dedicate a night where i compose poetry
Listen to music that evokes memories of my mum and look at a collection of photographs of my mum ravishingly beautiful photogenic face
On these special nights of mournful remembrance in which with a tsunami of tears I reminisce of the fading memories and dream of seeing her face feeling here hug and kiss me for one last time

Everyday I Think About Killing Myself

Mental illness runs in my family my mum suffered from severe depression her entire adult life. My mum dealt with her terminal depression in a english women by never divulging her emotional torture to anybody. She was a stereotypical english women who was emotional repressed who was unable to be candid about her suicidal inclinations. I have inherited these detrimental personality traits from my mum. I have endured since i was 13 deep depression i also suffer from a paralysing social anxiety a negative attribute my deeply introverted father has. In my family we never communicated emotionally even though i had two loving affectionate parents who were demonstrative effusive in showing their love for me.

When i was 13 years old in my formative teenage years a traumatic life altering event befall our family. Me and my accountant father were driving home from my cello lesson and arrived atour suburban residence and discovered the grisly sight of my mums body hanging from the ceiling. My mum had killed herself and left only a succinctly worded suicide note where she elucidated her reasons why she committed suicide. It was a devastating moment that forever altered my perceptive on life on God on myself. After that day i became severely depressed developed long term anxiety issues began to suffer from habitual panic attacks and the genesis of my body dysmorphia occurred after the tragic death of my mum at the tender age of 38. Following her suicide i distanced myself from my father lived in the sanctuary of my room when i was home. We rarely conversed other than banal small talk we never dared to open up the wounds of my mums untimely suicide. Like a prototypical middle class middle England family we repressed our pain.

Its been nearly 10 years since that tumultuous day when my mum killed herself. Since then i have progressed from a neurotic anxiety riddled teenager into a troubled adult with untreated unexpressed psychosis and disorders. The anxiety has exacerbated into a detrimental social phobia. The depression is metastasised into daily sick suicidal fantasises. Like my mum i have refrained from confiding with a friend or seeking the ameliorating help of a professional therapist. I have hidden suppressed my mental illnesses the fear of being vulnerable the terrifying fear of being judged by another person. Hence i put on this veneer of normality hiding my crippling perennial psychological problems. I halve inherited my mums introverted propensities to never cry in public to exist in private inner world of emotional torment.

I muse daily on killing myself in my overactive imagination. Everyday its a new manner of death every conceivable iteration i ponder. Whether its a drug overdose to the harrowing hanging slitting of my wrists and severing a vital artery. I think about jumping from a block flats and letting my emaciated body get crushed on the concrete floor. I ruminate whether or not i will leave a note a poem what i would say in this verbose or succinctly worded suicide creation. On numerous moments when the idea of suicide has seen to me alluring i have composed a variety of poems essays in which i delineate the reasons why I want to end my life prematurely. These are dark desolate moments in my lonely life when the only escape from the immiseration of my pathetic life is to cease existing.

One time when i cut myself in a desperate act of a self harm on my underarm to feel some pain. I decided with my inhibitions loosened from devouring copious amounts of alcohol to call the Salvation Army suicide number. I spoke with a kind softly spoken serene women who dissuaded me from slashing my wrists. This is the only instance i ever openly talked to another soul about my oppressive depression that’s negatively impacted every facet of my life. It wasn’t a genuine suicide attempt it was though a forlorn cry for help in the early hours of a Saturday morning. I cried during and after this laconic phone conversation which lasted a mere 5 minutes. The aftermath of this interaction was a feeling of elation to unburden myself from the shackles of my emotional repression. To finally divulge my darkest secrets to a faceless compassionate stranger left me feeling euphoric even with the tears the snot falling down my nose. With my lacerated arms i had a moment when I acknowledged to another person my illness i was vulnerable with the help of alcohol.

However subsequent after that potential momentous phone conversation i fall back into my negative behavioural pattern of adopting this facade this exterior of normalcy . I reneged from disclosing my depression my anxiety to my small tribe of cohorts. I never sought out the rehabilitative help of a therapist who could improve my depression. The pain would only be unveiled on my online poems my diary entries my blog. None of my friends family work colleagues would ever be cognisant of the severity of my fragile mental state. I continued hiding my anxiety attacks my self harm my suicidal proclivities. Still i would fantasise about ending my life fantasise about the funeral. What would my father say in the eulogy would there be a profusion of tears from the funeral attendees. My perfect method of suicide I have surmised is to die from an overdose of opiate painkillers whilst listening to the soothing melancholic songs of Lana del Rey. Hearing her soothing dulcet melodic tones as I drift off into nothingness would be the perfect way to end my short lamentable life.

Some days the pain the torture the purgatory of life becomes so onerous i just want to die. In my broken mind I’m screaming end the pain end the pain fuck being alive. I cant take it anymore cant endure the loneliness the abject desolation of my forlorn existence. Walking around i utter the silent words to myself freak freak freak die you bitch when i pass strangers who cast their derisive glares at my direction. I’m screaming at myself wanting to be nothing screaming with my self loathing laments to die. These are the worst days when the dark fantasies feel so real when death is plausible to me. Everyday though even on rare days of tranquility I contemplate suicide.

Thinking About Suicide

Its on my mind all the time
Suicide the perennial screensaver on my consciousness
I constantly contemplate ending my life
Contemplate the most preferable method of suicide

I think about the perfect soundtrack to my untimely demise
Maybe its a combination of joy division and haunting melancholic classical music
The most desirable way of death i have surmised is a drug overdose
Other methods like hanging drowning slashing my wrists are harrowing excruciatingly painful ways to die

I want my death to be painless I want to drift into nothingness without the pain of life
No blood no grisly corpse just a languid sleeping body rendered death by a copious deadly quantity of opiate painkillers
As I drift away into permanent sleep i want the exemplary cello concerto by Elgar to be echoing into my mind
Then the pain of life the pain of existing this way will be over with me experiencing profoundly moving music

Many times i ruminate about suicide without feeling abjectly depressed
It my morbid mind that’s has these bizarre streams of consciousness
My mins that has sick twisted fantasies of death it how i escape the horror the turgidity of life
It only be ton escape the boredom the mediocrity of my life that have a final memorable act in a otherwise futile life

Goodbye Part 2

This will be my final video my last words will be recorded for posterity on my YouTube channel. I intend to end my life my hanging myself with a rope I purchased from amazon that was delivered promptly and discretely. The rope concealed in a package that hides my harmful intentions to severe my life at the tender age of 23. I craft a noose knot that my scrawny neck can fit inside. Its a tight knot that will quickly cut off my air supply and leave my hanging lifeless staring forlornly into the camera. This video will play live on YouTube on the live stream feature and will continue to play live until my camera battery runs out. I intend to leave an hour worth of battery on my rudimentary camera which I use to record all my previous videos.

I tentatively remove the mirror from inside my closet so i can assiduously apply the red lipstick and black eyeliner to my hideous face. Once again my skin crawls at the ghastly sight of my face. I gaze deeply into my eyes seeing the haunted vacant expression in my emerald green eyes. My eyes i once believed were my only attractive physical feature. They once long ago shinned sparkled with a lust for life. Now they are ravaged by years of depression they are bloodshot there’s no colour no emotion just a void of nothingness. The rest of my porcelain face is as unappealing as repulsive as usual. My blotchy skin my deformed crooked teeth that I’m ashamed to show to anybody look like tombstone teeth so gnarled like a reflection of my fractured psyche. I apply the lipstick in the pitiful hope of appearing presentable. In this video my swan song i will remove my mask and expose my emotional scared face to the world.

After meticulously applying the makeup i clothe my emaciated malnourished body inside the black demure maxi dress. Its a dress I have worn for the rare dates or nights out with friends. I adore this dress it hides all my flaws but it can hide the glaring flares on my face. My body is inside this modest dress for which lat week i wore for my fathers wedding. Then i begin to prepare for the suicide ceremony broadcasted life on YouTube. Its going to be at least an hour before I commence the life recording of my untimely demise. In the meantime i will consume a copious quantity of whisky and smoke a profusion of potent psychoactive cannabis to satiate my desire to get intoxicated for one last time

As i devour shot after shot of the finest American bourbon i play the entirety of my favourite album the seminal closer by joy division. Playing this album is appropriate for this macabre occasion a album which is essentially 45 minute haunting suicide note. The music hits me like a drug allowing the sadness the despair to pulsate round my body throughout the rendition of this album i am on several moments brought close to tears. I blaze several cannabis joints over the course of the hour to the point where I’m hallucinating from the profusion of potent cannabis I’ve inhaled into my lungs. The whisky and weed takes to a blissed out a higher plain of consciousness before i take the devastating act of killing myself. There’s no doubt no wavering in my conviction to carry out this act I want to die. Living this alienated sad life where I’m tortured with anxiety with self loathing and relentless depression is too onerous to bare. When i die the brutal pain of being me a lost forgotten soul who’s vanishing in the vast wilderness of England will end.

The last song decades concludes and with my stoned body i am ready to start the ceremony to end my life after a succinct elucidation of the reasons why i am terminating myself. I put down the shot glass after recklessly devouring another delectable shot of whisky then i saunter over the window take one last look at the outside world as its the nighttime in the heat of July. I hear the distant sounds of dogs barking i see the glorious majestic constellations projected on the clear night sky. Theses awe inspiring illuminations of the infinite cosmos give a final glimpse of the beauty of the universe. Then I close the windows close my black gothic curtains and turn on the crimson lamp. This lamp projects a red ambience in my cozy bedroom before i shoot this concluding video.

With my weary body i am ready to begin the ritual i press record on the camera. I am dressed in my black dress no mask to cover my ravaged face i feel naked before the video begins.It starts my hands are frantically shacking with excitement at the enormity of what I’m doing. I open my mouth hoping that some erudite words will flow out of my consciousness into the video camera.

“Hello this is the beginning of a live stream. I know most of my subscribers viewers are accustomed to seeing myself obscured with a venetian mask. This is my hideous malformed face its so ugly isn’t it. This video i am shooting live today is my final ever video ill be recording for my channel. Its a special event I’m wearing my special black dress i only wear on special occasions. Today i plan to kill myself to take my body from a fully sentient conscious body into a lifeless dead body. I cant handle the pain of being alive anymore its too much everyday i go to work working for publisher i hide my pain i hide my anxiety its torture.”

After the initial articulation i am shacking tears are forming in my eyes I can barely stand up for saying these devastating words. I carry on delineating the reasons i want to die
“I have searched for weeks a reason to stay alive a slim glimmer of hope for why I should carry on existing in a cold godless universe. God has forsaken me i am lost in the perdition of my adulthood feeling so alone only able to communicate my mental illness via a YouTube channel. Last week I attended my fathers wedding i hoped it would be a beacon of hope a lifeline to reinvigorate me. Instead it was hell seeing all those smiling beautiful people enjoying a sacred celebration of love. Whereas i was racked with this anxiety and a sense i don’t to exist anymore. I had to put on this facade of joy smiling insincerely at the photos kissing hugging the attendees. On the inside i was numb i felt dead on the inside. I realised last week that i had to commit suicide. Tonight in the seclusion of my room I intend to end my life I don’t if you can see that sturdy rope hanging from the doors with noose knot firmly tied. I going to die live on camera you live viewers will witness my last breathe my pathetic words as human being.”

I have a waterfall of tears descending down my reach over to my chester drawers where i look at the shrine of my dead mother. I drop to the floor on my knees crying screaming out sorry mum as i look at a collage of her most transcendent images. Then i reach into the drawer and pull out a malicious blade of glass. The same blade I have used to lacerate my arms on a myriad of occasions.
“ Sorry mum sorry world before i place my neck in the noose i going to slash both of arms. I want to feel the excruciating pain before i depart forever into nothingness before i fade before I become dust”

I take the blade and recklessly slash both my arms. I don’t care anymore if i hit an artery or a vein. I take the blade on my underarm and cut deep taking the blade from my elbow close to my wrist dangerously close to a vital artery. Repeating it on my other arm. There is a cornucopia of blood that is emanating from my deep wounds. With my heavily intoxicated body I barely feel the pain of these deep savage cuts my arms are covered in blood. The blood drips on the wooden floor i feel faint from the blood letting.
“I am ugly i am unfit for life. I will never have love or feel the sweet joy of falling in love with a man who loves me who cares for me. Look at my face its hideous its why I have placed mask to veil my face on previous videos. In this world there’s only misery alienation. I wont get better i wont ameliorate my illness its futile to seek help because i cant be saved. I want death i want to disappear I want to nothing more than a fading memory of a sad person.”

With my face submerged in emotion in tears and my body caked in blood so much that it’s stained my perfect favourite back dress i walk over to the rope by my bedroom door. I step onto my writing chair that’s by my door. Place my gaunt neck inside the noose. Then with my neck firmly inside the deadly rope i kick away the chair. Now all i have to do is wait for the ecstasy of death as i am hanging crucifying myself in a desperate act. Blood drips on the floor i am numb only hurting as the noose is slowly killing me chocking me. The camera carries on recording me as i suffer a agonising slow death. I survey my room that looks like a murder scene from a slasher flick. Then the rope is now cutting into my neck i feel the jaws of death round my body. I feel the death rattle my eyes are haunted I want this so badly I want death. Then I take my last breathe before i stop breathing i cease to be i am nothingness the camera has picked up my suicide. I am rendered death to never be conscious again. Life has destroyed my precious spirit now all that pain evaporates from my soul as i become one with death.

The Fear

I’m afraid I’m petrified it the fear the anxiety that I have to endure
The fear of the outside of being trapped in uncomfortable unfamiliar social situations
The fear of being vulnerable of feeling this nakedness
The fear of a dreadful injurious panic attack that every time feels like death

The fear begins with heavy uncontrolled hysterical breathing
I can’t breathe i cant breathe i cant catch a breathe
I falling down a dark tunnel a million anxiety laden thoughts pulsate in my fractured psyche
I drop to my knees my arms clasp my head still I’m falling at a precipitous pace down into the abyss

I’m dying i feel like death the fear is horrifying
Is this hell is this death is this another harrowing panic attack
Or am I suffering an actual heart attack
Theres shooting pains in my arms i cant breathe i cant walk

My chest is so oppressively constricted please let this nightmare be over
I cry from the panic from the misery of this purgatory this panic attack
The tears flow i am hysterical i want to be home
I fervently desire the serenity of my bed i want the tears to stop

Still i am breathing heavily and frantically
People are watching judging castigating my abnormal behaviour
I cant help it i am afflicted with a pathological anxiety disorder
The tears still cascading i return to a semblance of normality as the panic attack abates now I have to lumber on home with the paranoia the agony of another pernicious traumatising panic attack