WALL OF TEXT INCOMING
I'm 23, and over the past year or two I have finally realised that I've never actually been happy with anything. I had an OK childhood, with a mother who was a strong christian and a father who still was, but not so much. I was always a terribly shy and quiet little boy, which has somewhat stuck up until now. No self confidence and scared of everything.
I started experimenting with alcohol at around the age of thirteen. I quickly realised that a few drinks helped me in social situations and by 14 was drinking 6 pints a day and smoking a few spliffs. It kind of gave me new confidence whilst I was drunk, but soon I couldn't go out if I didn't have any beer. How would I talk to anyone if I wasn't pissed? Obviously my schoolwork suffered and despite being a straight A student only a few years before, I failed all but 3 of my school exams. I hung around with the 'popular' kids at school, despite not really being like them, which was ok I guess. However this group was involved in some nasty bullying of a particually nice lad. I didn't actually join in with this, but I'm still haunted by the fact I stood and watched whilst doing fuck all. In my opinion I was just as bad as they were.
Luckily after failing school I somehow managed to blag my way into college. Still smoking weed with no drive I was failing that too. Unexpectedly, my father died when I was 17, and this really hit me hard. Every day I get a flashback of my mother telling me that he was dead in the hospital. The nurse led her away and told me to go into a room where I found his lifeless body lying there still. She shut the door and I sat down in utter shock and burst into tears. After 5 minutes I decided I couldn't really handle it in the room with him so I tried to get out. Unfortunately, the door lock must have somehow stuck because the door wouldn't open. Having a full scale panic attack, I eventually banged hard enough that someone heard and opened the door.
Things started to get worse from here and I started nailing lots of ecstasy and cocaine. I'd intentionally get as messed up as possible just so people at parties etc would see how fucked up I was and didn't even bother talking to me, and I wouldn't have to talk to them. I'd get through 10-20 pills a night on average or 1500mg of MDMA. Literally so fucked up my eyes were pointing in different directions and I couldn't speak.
I genuinely hate who I am, what I look like and I sit in front of the mirror crying about how I've ravaged my poor once healthy human body. I've felt like the most useless peice of shit for my entire life, I can't believe why anybody would want to know me. I cannot even talk to my good friends without 5 beers inside me, I'm terrified of social situations, I have lost all interest in every aspect of mylife, confined to a minium wage shit job, i'm just sat here waiting to die. I can't walk through town from fear of seeing somebody I know, but somehow hide this. Nobody really suspects a thing but I'm sick of living in this fake existance.
Somedays I'll suddenly get a strange burst of energy that comes from nowhere. Strange things will set it off, like a bottle being runover by a car. I immediately get a weird welling up feeling, like I'm about to burst into laughter, but not. Insane thoughts start rushing round my head, alien feelings, things I can't even put into words. It's pretty scary, genuinely feels like I'm going insane. It's kind of like a panic attack, but the oposite. Sometimes I can keep it in control, sometimes it lasts all day.
Then Mephedrone arrived in my life around late 08 or so and it took me to a new low. I was on about 3g-5g a week until the ban. I started hearing voices whilst trying to sleep and near the end every time I shut my eyes to sleep, I'd see a full colour image in my mind of me hanging from a tree and strage but familiar voices saying 'do it'. One day after about 10g of Mephedrone, I woke up in the night with a crushing pain in the centre of my chest. It spread up to my neck and left arm. I just thought, thank fuck - this is it, and sat there waiting to die. I took 20mg phenazepam to try and ease it a bit and thankfully woke up 2 days later feeling worn out but ok. Blood pressure is still rather high, but I think I came out realatively unscathed. I continued using Mephedrone for a while until I couldn't take the voices and delusions anymore. I created a concoction of diamorphine and some random barbituate I found, hoping one day I'd have the guts to give myself a peaceful overdose.
I realised that killing myself would be an incredibly selfish act, and having told absolutely NOBODY about how I've always felt, would be an incredibly confusing act for others too.
And so here I am. No motivation, utter self hatred, scared to death of life, scared to death of people working a shit job, slowly losing friends as I become more introvert. Now is the time to do something, but where do you start?
If you made it that far, then thank you with all my heart. I've never breathed a word of this to anybody, so you can feel somewhat exclusive
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