Monday, March 31, 2014

we’re all made of chemicals, if you think about it. it would take countless cells to make one person up. everyday those cells change. everyday our brains lose neurons. everyday we wake up a tad bit different from ourselves the day before, and the week or month or year before. i guess that’s why it’s so hard, when people say they hate change, it’s because they know. They know that they’re changing, they can feel themselves changing to the point that it’s to hard to hold on to the idea of them being themselves. if you think back to when you were six to now that your older, do you still know that child that you see from the back of your mind? the one you’ve kept hidden because you were busy growing up? you remember memories, stories that you told yourself. Your past is not the identical version of another person’s past, heck, maybe even your past-self know details of the story that you don’t. like i said we’re all just made up of chemicals.
but it’s weird how a chemical compound can have memories, think about things that would make them feel stuff. it’s weird that we yearn for that connection to someone else. it’s weird that we’ve establish norms thinking that these things would make things a little more clearer, like for some reason rules would cut the bullshit into half. it’s weird how cavemen wouldn’t have reacted negatively to the hurtful words people would say to inflict emotional paint to each other. we made those words and sometimes we use them because it fits for the time being. the chemicals in our bodies pushed us to do so. we cut because we have to. we drink because we crave it. we smoke because we like it. we’re all just clustered chemicals trying to fix ourselves with other chemicals, because we’re hurting. our mind told us we’re hurting, therefore we are. then those who has it figured out, will tell you to take this pill, another chemical compound that’d make you feel better… and then you go numb. even if you try to reminisce you won’t feel anything.

Tell me your story...
I feel like I’m totally different than people seem to see me. I seem to be the happy, funny and self-confident girl that can’t be mad at anybody.. But in fact, I’m not confident at all. I am very insecure about myself and I do not feel very comfortable in my own skin. I often feel like I do not show my true self to others. I do laugh a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t have any problems. It’s just that I’m not the kind of person who complains all the time about their problems. I don’t trust people easily. Sometimes I wish there was just one person who sees the real me and understands my insecurities. And even though I am joking around often and I’m quite a social person I’m very shy. I always have the impression that I’m not good enough for everybody so I don’t even recognize if someone is intrested in me because I don’t feel like I deserve it. And so they give up and find someone different, some other girl that is a bit more flirty and not so difficult to reach.
Wars and temper tantrums are the makeshifts of ignorance; regrets are illuminations come too late.
— Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces
What do You see?
I weep for this world 
With tears in my eyes 
Watching helplessly 
As it slowly dies 

I see the loss of lives 
The loss of land 
And deals that end 
Shaking the devil’s hand 

I see good people 
Living in pain 
The peaceful and innocent 
Going insane 

I see our rights and freedom 
Being taken away 
And people being punished 
For what they might say 

I see war affecting those 
Who don’t wish to fight 
And some who do 
Vanish out of sight 

I see people stealing 
Just to get by 
While others steal 
So they can get high 

I see people 
Who are hired for protection 
Use their jobs 
For sin and deception 

I see the world plagued 
By the seven deadly sins 
And now I see 
This is where the end begins 

The despair and anger 
Burns inside of me 
The manifestation 
Of absolute misery 

I see no light 
No ray of hope 
Nowhere to hide 
No way to cope 

I see no reason 
To continue this strife 
I see no reason 
To continue with life 

For every battle won 
There’s another to be fought 
Which gives me 
One final thought 

As long as we’re at war 
We’ll never truly be free 
Look through my eyes 
Maybe you’ll see what I see
Sad eyes stare back at me
You sigh and say you’re not beautiful
Can you not see then sunlight shining through your scars?
From The victories of uninvited wars
For you are still here, and you are beautiful
With burns and scratches
Hair torn out it patches
It does that matter, because you are winning
The world will keep on spinning
Shut your demons out
and let me in

Saturday, March 29, 2014

It's been a while...
Since I saw you last week, after all these years, my mind has been subconsciously drifting on and off on thoughts about you.
It’s been years.
But my reflex and reaction towards you, my heart and body hadn’t seem to forget it yet.
I think I’ve been holed up in denial about thinking that I don’t care about you anymore.
We were never even together.
There was never an us.
I know.
The thing is I can’t even talk to anyone about you.
You acknowledged me.
But you never really looked at me.
Like always.
Just like how it was before.
Will I ever get your attention?
I guess not.
But I’m used to it.
If you could just spare one look at me.
Just one look.
I guess not.
I guess I’m stuck inside, trapped inside.
Just like before, it’s you I always see.
But just like before, you never see me.
After all these years, I shall say this again.
Though I know it won’t ever reach you, just like before.
But yes, I think I still love you.
I could be a beautiful song, 
a beautiful scenery, 
a beautiful poetry,
or a beautiful painting
I could be your anything
You can hang me on the wall
You can photograph me
You can sing me if you want
I wouldn’t mind at all
I could be every beauty
But , I can’t still make you love me
Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life
— ― Bob Marley
Und wenn sie bei ihm ist, kann sie die Maske absetzen. Sie weis nicht wieso, aber bei ihn fühlt sie sich zum ersten mal wohl. Sie fühlt sich verstanden. Keiner kennt sie wirklich, keiner weiß wie es in ihr aussieht, dass sie sich gar nicht hübsch findet wie sie immer sagt dass sie sich in ihrem Körper wohl fühlt und sie sich hübsch findet, dass sie dass essen hasst obwohl sie sagt sie könnte ohne das essen nicht, dass es ihr eben nicht egal ist, obwohl sie sagt ihr ist es egal, dass sie sich immer einen Kopf um andere macht dass sie über sie redet, obwohl sie es tagtäglich aufs neue sagt mir ist es egal was andere von mir denken, dass sie tierisch eifersüchtig ist, obwohl sie sagt ich bin es nicht, dass sie immer lacht obwohl sie lieber weinen würde, dass sie sagt sie macht was aus ihr sie weis was sie mal in der Zukunft hat, obwohl sie eigentlich keine Ahnung hat was sie mal macht, dass sie sagt sie hat träume will was in ihrem leben erreichen, obwohl sie hagenau weiß dass sie nichts in ihrem leben je erreicht.
The older you get, the more you realize what really matters in life.
Creative Risk.
At times I get a little scared of writing online about race, faith, gender, culture, history, politics, psychology, media, or even a simple story about a dude saving a girl — because I’m pretty sure I’ll offend someone or I’ll say something really insensitive and it’s so hard to know what’s wrong to say these days.  The internet has turned us into a raw nerve.  Most online people assume you’re a sexist racist mustache-twirling troll and they’ll kill you if you remotely run up on their categories. We’ve all drawn the line much too close to ourselves.
But you know — I suppose someone will always be offended, and online communities are never much happy with anything, and creativity has to take risks.  So if you have a story to tell and you really have a good heart about it, just write your thing and learn from the criticism and keep on writing.  I don’t think it’s wise to purposefully offend people, but I don’t think it’s wise to shackle yourself in a box in fear of someone else’s opinion.  I’d rather you be you and offend me, than you play it safe and be some watered down version of you.
— J
Best Friend
Yesterday, my best friend (M,16) came over (i'm F,15)
So he came over at around 9:30
And we were at first talking at the dinner table, then he stared begging to move over to the couch, after like two minutes of arguing about it, I gave in and we moved to the couch
I turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels, his arm was around me and he kept pulling me close
after a few minutes of what was on the History channel, he kissed me.
and so, we started making out for a while, and by a while I mean like, 10 minutes
Then we stopped for a bit and snuggled, watching TV
I had my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat (which was going 
pretty fast) and he reached for my hand and held it and kissed my forehead. 
Then after we got bored, we started making out again and like
He grabbed my ass then his hand went under my shirt and grabbed my boob
And he took his shirt off and mine too and continued making out until his friend 
called him saying that he was on his way to his house and he was like ok
And he started getting ready to leave right before I opened the door, he pushed 
me against the wall and made out with me for like one more minute and I could 
feel his boner and oh my god it was just awesome
HOURS after, i was watching a zombie movie on netflix ( I think it was State of Emergency, I wasn't really paying attention) he texts me saying he couldn't get his mind off of what happened. 
Later on that night, I wasn't feeling that well and I was speaking to him about how I've been feeling around the assholes in my school (he goes to a different one) 
his phone dies, but then at 2:21AM he sends me at least FIVE PARAGRAPHS on how I'm too perfect to cry and such
and today, he asked me out on a date and I'm so excited
I fucking love him, I swear.
this is not a confession
It’s Thursday morning. I’m not sure how I made it this far without a cup of coffee, but here I am. I have a hunch that this day will require quite a few cups. Preferably black. Most likely strong. 
Being the mid-twenties adult that I am, my Thursday has taken me to a favorite downtown spot. I am surrounded by folks who are “cooler” than me. The antler tattoos and expensive boots. Fixed gear bikes and impressive facial hair. I’m sitting in the corner, listening to my music, picking at my fingernails. I’m not necessarily nervous, it’s just always been a bad habit. I’ve checked my phone 30 times in the ten minutes I’ve been sitting here. I need someone to tell me that I’m doing the right thing. That these words I’m composing will set me free. I’ve gotten a SnapChat of a cat and an email about some cheap flights to the Caribbean. But no such message from my anonymous encourager. I suppose I will have to swallow the doubts and move forward. 24 years is a long time to be picking at your fingernails and checking your phone for love letters. 
Merriam-Webster defines “confession” as:
  1. a written or spoken statement in which you say that you have done something wrong or committed a crime
  2. the act of telling people something that makes you embarrassed, ashamed, etc.
And that’s where I lay the foundation that this is not a confession. I am not embarrassed or ashamed. I do not believe that I have committed a crime. 
Maybe I am getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind. Let me introduce myself. My name is Ryan and I am a walking mess of inconsistencies and contradictions. I was born beside the ocean but live in the heart of Texas. I have hundreds of playlists featuring Bon Iver and Sufjan Stevens, but my most played songs are Taylor Swift and Pitbull. I live in one of the liveliest cities in America, but prefer the quiet conversations around a backyard bonfire. I care too deeply, and in the same breath I wound fiercely. My life is messy and it is beautiful. 

6 years ago, while attending Bible college, I met a man named Josh. He spoke of honesty and vulnerability in words that shattered my soul and put fire in my bones. I longed to be known, to be accepted and to be loved. This longing brought me to write an email to Josh. “I think that I’m gay." My message was saturated in fear and shame. Punctuation marks screaming secrets. Paragraphs shouting "Love me. LOVE ME!" That was, by definition, a true "confession." 
Much has changed since that February in the mountains. Friends have come and gone. I’ve cried and I’ve laughed. I’ve seen the world. I’ve locked myself in my room. I’ve moved across the country. I’ve been to counseling. I’ve slept in airports. I’ve stood beside friends as they exchanged vows. I’ve been diagnosed with clinical depression. I’ve taken thousands of photos and listened to millions of songs. Despite the 3 A.M. prayers of desperation and weekly support groups, I still sit here as a gay man. Typing those words doesn’t scare me anymore. It doesn’t make me embarrassed. They don’t make me want to hide under the covers or drown myself in cheap beer. 
For the last 8 years, I’ve been involved, to different degrees, in the Christian church. I’ve been on staff for Bible colleges, lead small groups, organized missions trips across the globe. As I dug deeper and deeper into that culture, I realized that the walls around me were made of expectations and guilt. I was expected to grow up, marry a sweet woman, have 2.5 kids, buy a home, and spend my Sunday mornings passing out church bulletins. I’ve received far too much advice in regards to all of this. Some folks urged me to participate in groups that focused on changing your sexual orientation, which in my opinion, is not possible. Others asked me to remain celibate for the duration of my life. To sit silently as my friends took wives and had children. And most tried to pass me along to someone else. A true modern leper. 
I swallowed the bullshit for years. I believed that something was wrong with me. I went to the support groups. I read the passages. I prayed the prayers. And I grew to hate myself. The kind of hate where you wake up feeling like a monster. You stand in the shower, wondering what it will take to glue on the smile and sing the Sunday songs. Clinging to thousand year old words and one-sided conversations. 
If I have anything to apologize for, it is this. I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to speak these things sooner. I’m sorry I was scared for so long. I’m sorry I ran from the calling to be brave and to make a difference. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this in person. But this is step one. I can’t stress enough that I am not looking for a fight. I am not looking to argue. I don’t need to be told that I am wrong. That the world has deceived me. That I am making a grave mistake. I’m not.
I am still sitting in the same coffee shop corner. Probably listening to the same song. I have a nasty habit of over-using the repeat button. And I am smiling. For the first time in years, I am smiling. I have nothing to hide and nothing to be afraid of. My days are numbered, and I refuse to spend any more of them hating myself or being angry. This is a charge to love the world around me. Despite gender, age, race, sexual orientation or religion, I am going to love fiercely. I will stand tall for the persecuted and the lonely. Everyone deserves to be happy. And I mean everyone. 
Please note: I have disabled anonymous messages for obvious reasons. If you have something to say- whether it be a concern or a compliment, please show me your face. If I don’t respond promptly, please forgive me. I plan on unplugging for a while, turning off the phone and laughing with friends. Climbing trees and taking deep breaths. Swimming in rivers and hiking mountains. Driving on dirt roads and having movie marathons. This is my life, and I’m not going to waste it. 
As always, thanks for tagging along. I love you more than you will know, friend. Let’s chase the dream together.
“This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”-Walt Whitman
My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for.
— Neil Gaiman
i don’t want to live anymore…
let me fucking slit my wrists again
give me the pain killers
let me torture myself
why can’t i be somewhere happy
i just want a decent life
some place where not everything depends on money
i fucking hate this world
i hate my life
i hate myself
i’ve become one of them
i just want to be done
take me out of my misery… 
How to make her fall in love:
  • Respect her.
  • Talk sweet.
  • Make her feel that she matters.
  • Surprise her.
  • Text her first.
  • Make love letters.
  • Send her flowers.
  • Send good morning at good night texts.
  • Meet her parents.
  • Protect her.
  • Make her smile.
  • Fight for her.
  • Hug her from behind.
  • Talk about your future with her.
  • Make promises.
How to break her heart:
  • Forget all the promises and be a dumb ass

Last night I had a conversation with my parents about the future and what it has to offer. After being overseas a lot in the last year, I definitely know that I am not meant to be stuck in the same place, or in and office indoors studying. I am destined to explore the world, I know this now. But my parents just don’t understand this notion. “What about when you retire? Don’t you want to invest in a house? Wont you want stuff that is ‘yours’ when you’re older? You wont be getting much money from that will you?”, these are all the things on their mind. Things that are so low on the list of my priorities. I would much rather live my life now while I actually have my life, my drive and my youth than work a shitty job I hate for years to get the money to live my life later. After all, there may not be a later.
This is just a reminder to all to live your god damn lives now. Don’t wait until it’s too late.
There’s a thing called love. You see, we blindly give somebody our heart. We give that person the power to break our heart and most of the time they will. However, sometimes we come across a rare person who takes our heart, protects it, and gives us their heart in return. If you can trust one another to hold a piece of yourself so dear, that is love, darling.
Before your dreams gone,Then you better go live it.Cause whatever you love Could be taken away,So live like it’s your dying day

Monday, March 24, 2014

I wonder sometimes if Doctor Who would lose some fans with a woman in the role. But we need more equality among the sexes because it isn’t there yet. We don’t give women enough credit. Women can be heroic in science fiction and can be intelligent, complex characters, of course. If the Doctor can change from looking like Colin Baker to looking like me and change yet again so he looks like the not-as-handsome Paul McGann, then turning into a woman doesn’t seem much stranger. It’d be interesting, and they should try it.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Stay Alive, Stay Strong, and Keep Your Thoughts Positive
Yesterday, March 2nd, marked the two-year anniversary of one of my best friend’s death. 
She killed herself. 
The worst thing about this was the fact I had no idea how bad her situation was.  I had known her for over ten years.  Actually, we had never met face to face.  We were internet friends.  Perhaps this will strike home for a lot of you out there who understand the depths to which these relationships can reach. 
I loved this girl.  She was beyond intelligent (she had an IQ of 160) and could always make me laugh.  We bonded over our love of Final Fantasy X and, particularly, the character Auron.  It was weird because she reminded me a lot of him.  I always told her she was the female Auron. 
To this day, anything related to FFX will make me burst into tears and not because of the story (though it makes me sob to no end).  
Ten years of friendship, and SHE was the one pulling me along with encouraging sayings such as, “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”  She was completely anti-suicide, anti-cutting, all of the above.  She never drank, never smoked, never did anything.  
I was a cutter for most of my life.  I was suicidal for a great heap of it as well.  This woman kept me alive for a long time.  Because of her and my other best friend, I hung on when times were darkest and tried to keep my head high. 
When my back gave out and I was reduced to laying in bed for recovery, she kept me company.  The only thing I could really do was be online, even though that sometimes was difficult (the keyboard, screen, all those shenanigans were difficult at the time for me to maneuver and use comfortably).  During this, she told me she was having trials of her own.  Her mother and doctors were putting her on and taking her off all kinds of medication.  Once, even, one of her stupid ass doctors perscribed her too high a dosage of medicine; it back-fired on her and caused all sorts of psychological and chemical problems in her brain.  She had to be taken to a mental hospital until she was weened off those drugs and put on new ones.  She told me from that day on, she couldn’t smile anymore and she found it difficult to laugh at things, even when she thought they were funny.
That’s not okay.  Medication can seriously fuck you up.  I’ve seen first hand what happens when a person abuses drugs for your brain.  It can cause all sorts of unwanted thoughts that you have NO CONTROL over.  They can make you suddenly extremely sad, to the point where you really do want to kill yourself.  I know someone who almost killed herself because she was being given ‘happy pills’ that were PRESCRIBED TO SOMEONE ELSE (this someone else was forcing her to take them).  
I didn’t realize how much of a toll the drugs had taken on my friend.  I didn’t see her physically so I couldn’t see the change there.  I only spoke to her on AIM and she was very good a hiding what was bothering her.  But, here’s the thing, she never, EVER before felt the need to hide anything from me.  It wasn’t until she was dead I found out all the things she hadn’t told me. 
I wish I could have been there more for her.  I wish I could have held her.  I wish I could have done SOMETHING.  I wish I had known.  I really, really wish I had fucking known. 
Just thinking about this has reduced me to sobbing.  I miss her so fucking much.  I still can’t believe she’s gone.  
I talked to her the day before her death.  We had fun, talked about some serious stuff, but not too much.  I told her I’d talk to her the next day and she replied with the simple, “Okay, talk to you later, good night! <3”  
The next day she wasn’t online.  She wasn’t online for a few days.  Then I had an e-mail from her.  The second I opened it, I knew it wasn’t from her. 
It was from her mom. 
She told me everything.  How my friend had lied to her to go to the mall, how my friend lied to borrow her mom’s credit card… 
She did go to the mall.  But she didn’t buy what she told her mom she was going to. 
She bought a shot gun. 
And bullets.
She was parked in the back of the parking lot.  
She shot herself in the face. 
There was a note in her pocket for her mom.  Her mom was hysterical on the phone, in tears, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t believe my lovely, beautiful, talented, intelligent, loving friend was fucking gone from this world.  And I’d never, ever get the chance to hug her good bye. 
I love her so much.  She was like a sister to me.  We shared everything and laughed at everything.  We could talk serious, we could talk smack.  But, in the end, she couldn’t find it in her to share her pain with me.  
I think that’s what bothers me the most. 
That she didn’t feel she could talk to me about what was REALLY happening. 
I was her friend.  I was her best friend of nearly ten years.  I should have been the one person she could have turned to. 
I cannot, CANNOT fathom how lonely she must have felt with all that pain built up inside of her. 
All because some idiots gave her drugs she shouldn’t have been taking and fucked up her brain forever. 
My point?  Be careful with drugs.  Be careful with doctors.  But most of all, my point is this: 
Reach out. 
Don’t do this alone. 
Don’t you dare, ever in your fucking life, think it’s okay to take your own life.  Don’t think for a second you’re utterly alone.  Don’t believe for a moment your pain is so much, so vast, and so deep that nothing can cure it. 
I’m here for you.  I may not even know you, but I AM HERE FOR YOU.
I want you here. 
I want you here for as long as you can be. 
I want you to live your life. 
I want you to do all the things you’ve wanted to do with your life. 
A lot of people won’t talk about suicidal thoughts because society views this as people wanting attention.  No, you want HELP.  I know this because I’ve been there before.  I know what it feels like to not want to tell anyone, to think they’re just going to harass you and say you’re full of it and just want attention. 
I will never, ever fucking do that to you. 
If there’s any type of comment coming from your mouth about cutting, suicide, burning, or anything of that nature, you can bet your ass I’ll be there with some warm cocoa, a funny movie, and all the hugs you could ever want. 
I’m so serious. 
Stay alive.  
Stay here. 
Life is beautiful.  There’s assholes here, there’s bad people, and there’s bad situations, but you can ignore those people, you can get through those situations, and you can live your life to the fullest.  Keep your thoughts positive, especially the ones you tell yourself.  Don’t talk down to yourself— you don’t deserve it. 
Talk to yourself as you would a loving friend.  If you’re not, then you’re doing the very opposite of living. You’re destroying.  Yourself.  And that’s not fair.  
You have as much of a right as ANYONE on this fucking planet to live and live the life YOU want. 
Don’t let anyone take that way from you. 
Including yourself. 
I love every single one of you. 
From the bottom of my heart, I really, truly do. 
I want you to stay here. 
You can’t imagine the whole that’s been ripped inside of me because of the death of my friend.  It will never be filled.  It’s there, gaping, and a reminder of the love I lost.  I will never forget that woman, I will never forget what she meant to me, and I will never forget the dreams she never got to live. 
Why are people so mean.
Today, after school, I went into my school’s auditorium. To my surprise there was no one in the auditorium besides one of my very close friends, and she was crying. She said she was just stressed out about school. She is an all a’s student in all advanced placement classes so it is completely understandable for her to be stressed about school. But I knew that wasn’t all that was bothering her. She recently came out as a lesbian and since then she has been getting a lot of hate for it. She is such an amazing person, she’s brilliant, beautiful, and kind hearted. But for some reason people still think it’s a good idea to make others feel like complete shit. I’m done.. I personally have felt with it but for some reason seeing a friend in a state like that really got to me. And that’s why I hate people. They always need to ruin what is good in life. If anyone. And I mean anyone!! Ever needs help. I am here. I will always be here. I have problems of my own, but helping others is and always will be on the top if my list!
Feeling Kind of Lonely ?
I just want to let all of you know, I know what it’s like to be alone, feel afraid, and have regrets. I completely understand how you file through your memories and think, why did I do/say that? That’ll probably come back and hunt me down when it doesn’t need to. I know the feeling of hopelessness and feeling like nobody cares about you. I know how it feels to have the only reason for you not killing yourself is because, you’re afraid of going to hell. I know how it feels to not want to go to school anymore because of the way people treat you or because you feel like nobody likes you. Trust me, I know you don’t want to go somewhere crowded because you feel like everybody’s judging you and it’s always eyes on you. I get the crushed feeling you feel when you say that a certain celebrity saved your life and you’re always grateful for then somebody says, they don’t even know you exist. I get it. I promise you. I know how it feels. Talk to me when you need me. I get it. And so much more. You’re beautiful. You’re wanted. And You’re worthy. I’m here for you. I love you. 
A Note to those thinking of killing themselves...
I can not begin to say that I know exactly what has led you to this note. Each of us has a unique set of experiences that will lead them down a million, no, a trillion different life paths. In our world today we hear about suicide all the time. And I know that right in this moment suicide feels like the only choice. Your only escape. All I ask of you is to just breathe as you read this. I am not a great role model, and I am not here to judge anyone. I just want to give you something. To let you know that you are important. Everything that you go through, even the bad, is making you into the person you are meant to be. 
I have suffered with depression and self-harm since I was in sixth grade. Everything seemed dark, and I remember thinking that I couldn’t make it. I stood on the edge of a busy street, ready to walk in front of a car and end it. I had cuts all over my wrists, and I was ready to give up. I could not imagine my life getting any better. That was when I saw two people on the other side of the street. Two young people, they just looked so happy. They didn’t see me, they just walked along, happy and holding hands. I remember watching them, and I told myself, “I will do it tomorrow.” 
Thinking back on it now, I think of all the things I would have missed if I had killed myself that day. I would have missed meeting all of my best friends. I would have missed falling in love with two amazing guys. I would have missed feeling the pain of losing them both. I would have missed reaching my eight month mark of not cutting.
Everytime I feel down, and it still happens. I have not reached my personal happy ending yet, my story is still going, but every time I feel like I can’t make it. Even when I am crying, even when I am feeling like everything needs to stop.
I tell myself. “I will do it tomorrow.” It doesn’t have the same meaning each time. Sometimes, its just to stall cutting, sometimes its that I will be happy. But I will do it tomorrow.
If you are reading this. Know that you are loved. Because even if I have never met you. I love you. I love you for how strong you are being. I love you for being alive. I love you for your struggles, and your faults. 
I love you for your successes and your failures. We are human, we fall down sometimes. That is okay, but just know I am here to help you get back up.
Stay Strong and thank you for reading.
Love a fellow human being who sees potential and beauty in you.
I am here to help
Let me start off with telling you who I am. My name is Jasmin and I am 16. I  severe depression. 
Also, I have been bullied the majority of my life and abused when I was younger. Obviously, as you can see, I know what pain is like. Emotional pain. 
I know what it’s like to feel alone and helpless. To feel like no one cares. That you’re in that big hole that no one can dig you out of. That whenever you see the sun shining again, something is always there to slam you back into the darkness. 
I know all of that. I’ve tried to commit suicide myself multiple times and also still have scars from cutting.
But, I’ve made it out of that deep tunnel and so can you. Share your stories with me. I’ll be the ear you need to listen, the shoulder to cry on. I’ll give you the best advice I can and help you sort through things. 
Don’t be shy to send me your story. I will answer as soon as I can with the best answers I can give. All your stories matter and I am here to help. 
Please, send your story with me..( ) I am waiting!
This is for the people who stick around toxic friendships because they know what being lonely really is. You have been misunderstood, mistaken for, ignored, unappreciated, unnoticed, and unremarked. You are the people who can’t stand to leave anyone alone because you don’t wish anyone to go through the things that you have been calling everyday life. You have clawed your way out of the chasm tooth and nail and finally tasted the sweet air of what you have been yearning for. And you see one of your own teetering at the very edge of the chasm you fought your way out of. You try to pull them back towards you no matter how hard they knock you back. They might hurt you. They might scar you. But you don’t give up because you know that no person deserves life in that deep chasm. One day that person might just fall into that chasm. You blame yourself for not trying enough, You spend all of your time with that person. You send for help. You stand guard of the very place you feared to be again. Some day, you might even jump into the chasm just to save that someone who fell into the cracks. You fight, push, pull, and force that person back up outside to where you both once were. 
Then they might make it. They might appreciate you all the more. They might love you a fraction of the love you showed them.
They might move on, Thank you, and move far and away from that cliff. And then you realize, there are so many people who are balancing on a tightrope that hangs precariously over the canyon. You are afraid, For them. For you. For people that will find their way to this place again. 
So you stand there. You face your fears each and everyday. Because as long as one less person falls into that precipice of sorrow and loneliness, all of that will one day be worth it.
This is for the brave sons and daughters who to this day stand guard at the brink of that cliff of loneliness, depression, and suicide. I am proud to say that people like you exist from all parts of life. I am proud to say that many people owe you their lives. 
I am prouder to say that I and many others would happily jump into that abyss to bring you and your loved ones back.
Thank you.
I am worried about you....
I worry about you when you don’t talk to me for this long. I can see when you are hurting, I can feel when something is wrong. I just wish I could do more to help you or do anything no matter how little it may be. I care so about you so much I just want to help you no matter what I am here for you. I made you that promise one year ago, and I will never break it, no matter what you go through, no matter how hard things get, I will be here for you and fight for you. Remember my promise. I will fight for you even if the entire world is against you and you give up on yourself, I never will. I will fight for you no matter what happens; good, bad, terrible or anything worse that that or better than good. I will always be here for you and be your best friend. No matter what I am going through I will be here for you, even if I am in the hospital or something I will be here for you. You have no idea how much I care about you and worry about you and how bad I want to be able help you and take away all the bad things and keep them away from you and protect you from them. I know things can’t “be okay” just like that, but I am willing to work at it and help you no matter what it takes. I am your bestest fwend. I always will be here please believe me I don’t make promises lightly, they are too important to break. I am sorry I can’t help you with everything, but please let me help you and trust me. I want to help you like I have always been able to do back before your trip to Ireland. I want to chase the bad away I really wish I could. I don’t know what is wrong, but I can feel that something is. Please. Let me help you. I am always here for you I promised you and I am not breaking that promise ever I promise you that again, I will say it every day if I have to.
Warning: talks about child hood trauma
My mother was molested as a child and she’s just recently told a few people. She still hasn’t told her mom. I was raped almost 8 years ago and I have spent the last year working through it and realizing how much that one event impacted my life. My recent step was telling my mom…her reaction was not what I thought it would be. There was instant anger towards the person who did it and questions. The first being ” why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I looked at her an thought a minuet then decided to be honest. ” I thought it would kill you. You have always been caring an protective. And when you told me about what happened to you and how you pray nothing like that would happen to me or my sister I thought you would blame yourself. Why haven’t you told your mom?”
She looked sad for a moment and truly dropped the mask all mothers wear ” because it would kill her”
It’s funny how we see things from different perspectives and yet we are all so similar. My life has gotten so much better now that I’ve begun to talk about what happened and I just wanted to offer an ear to anyone who has or may be going through this. It’s tough but something like that makes us stronger.
I know
times are hard, life will drop you to the bottom of the hole, it will tare at you from side to side. But dont let life turn you into a yo-yo, swinging you up and down and twisting you around. Everything may seem wrong, but itll turn out to be right in the end. My only hope is that you realize things like this happens for a reason. Things dont always end right and they sometimes dont go right for everyone else. But let me tell you this- there are lights at the end of the tunnel. I know you have the strength to get there. And if i need to guide you, i will. If you need a helping hand than mine is here for you to hold. If you need a push, i have the strength to help. If you need a hug, my arms are open. I believe in you. that you can get through this hard bump. It is hard to go through this situation, but i know itll be okay. IT WILL BE OKAY

You aren't alone
Maybe it’s your darkest day. Maybe it’s the first time you got your heart broken for the first time or you were bullied for the 5 millionth time. Maybe you feel like crying or dying. 
But all I want you to know is that I am here for you, night or day. I love you. There is someone out there who loves you. Don’t give up on anything. I’m here for you. I don’t care if I don’t know you or if you are my best friend. Ask me for anything day or night. Go in my submit box. If you need any help or advice, I am here and I love you.