Category Archives: suicide

I Long To Be The Younger Me Again

Feb 2010 Campus Scenes

 

Does anyone else out there look back on their past and wish they were young again?  I mean, I didn’t even like being young.  My life has been a raging shitshow since about age 10

But at the same time, there was the spark back then.  This magic all around me. 

I believed that everything was going to work out.  I thought that one day I’d fly away and be surrounded by people who loved and cared for me.  When I was 20, I was so much more jaded than any other 20 year-old around me, but now, at 27, I’m even more bitter and jaded than I thought humanly possible.

 

This one memory has been popping back into my head for about a month now.

It’s the memory of being twenty years old and being back in undergrad.  Back at a school called Loyola Marymount University.

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Loyola Marymount is located in sunny Los Angeles and it’s campus is beautiful and pristine.  Being from working class Ohio, I always felt completely out of place surrounded by all the kids from the OC and the Bay who drove their BMWs and Range Rovers around campus.

Back then I hated that school.  I had no friends.  I didn’t connect with the coke-snorting millionaires from Laguna Beach who partied in WeHo rather than did homework like me.   It was so isolating and lonely.  I remember it was so bad that I moved to Westwood to live with UCLA kids.   Then I had about a 2 hour bus commute every day there and back on the Santa Monica 3 bus line.

 

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And yet, these days, I look back and miss those days.  I miss being in undergrad. I miss being that young.  I miss looking out my classroom windows and seeing palm trees and the LA skyline.

But you know, what I really miss is being surrounded by peers.  There is an experience in undergrad that you’ll never get in anything else you ever do in life for as long as you live.  Its you, being young, and being surrounded by a bunch of other young people.  There is just this feeling like a new friend could be around every corner. Maybe a potential boyfriend is sitting next to you in class.   You just always think that something good may be coming.

So that’s what I’m remembering.  I keep thinking of sitting in this history class I had.  There was this really cute straight guy who sat next to me.  I used to sneak looks at him when he wasn’t looking.  And sometimes, he’d catch my looking and I’d smile like as I was just looking around the room and happened to make eye-contact with him.  He’d give me this bro-like “sup” motion with his face.

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I’ll never have that again.   I’ll never feel like a new friend is around every corner.  I’ll never feel like I’ll fall in love ever again.   I just rot.  I just got older and more isolated and my body crumbles and fades with age.

You’re only young once.   After that it’s all over.  Now, everyone is settling down, getting married, getting fat, plopping into their 9-5 (which in America has quickly turned to the 8-6), and they wash their adulthoods away at bars on the weekends talking about life as “grown ups” as they discuss buying homes and other such bullshits.

I think I actually hate them more now.  At least back when we were 20 and they didn’t have anything in common with me, I could still have some eye candy.  But now, that glow of youth that all the hot guys used to have has been replaced with a growing belly and back hair.   I wonder how they look at themselves in the mirror everyday without wanting to commit suicide.   How far they’ve fallen.

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But despite how awful life becomes, I will still have my memories.  At nighttime as I sit in my bed unable to fall asleep, I close my eyes, and think about my past.  I replay those days at LMU on loop in my head.  My bedroom provides an escape from my present.  I’d rather be lost a delusional fantasy of what my life used to be, than sit in bed at night and dwell on how it only continues to get worse.

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Anyways, does anyone else feel that way?  Does anyone else feel like even though life was never good, it was somehow less bad when you were young?

And where do we go from here?

~ The Dark Horse

(This was…perhaps 30% proofread?)

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The Importance Of Having Role Models With Mental Illness

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So, I just finished reading Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher, and it was actually a really great book!  One thing that i really loved was open and honest she was about her life.   She spoke so openly about her friend dying beside her in bed, and about how she used drugs to numb her intense emotions.   Granted, I don’t agree with a lot of what happened in her life (I don’t do drugs or drink, so the idea of my mom coming to me at age 13 and telling me to smoke up with her was incredibly strange), but that isn’t the point.

 

The point is that this woman is not only an amazing storyteller, but also shows one of the truest signs of overcoming your problems:  

The ability to talk openly and laugh about them! 

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This then got me thinking about how great it was to hear someone be able to be so free, and so open.  And also, how great it felt to just know someone is out there talking about their mental illness and making waves in our culture!

And so then I set out to find other celebrities who have been open about mental illness (whether it be PTSD, panic, anxiety, depression), and some of the things I found were a bit shocking!

 

And the answer is, shockingly few.   I found a few articles on HuffPost and Buzzed and stuff, where a celebrity says they get “anxiety” (cough cough) about something every once in a while or some other kind of bullshit like that,  but none of it seemed to be what I live through.  For me, depression and anxiety are these massive weights that pull me down everyday.  They are always there and always trying to ruin me.  That is why Wishful Drinking was such a great read.   It wasn’t Amanda Seyfried talking for one paragraph about how she sometimes get upset thinking about her son possibly dying or something.  It was real, life-destroying mental problems, and I loved reading it!

 

So there needs to be more talk about this stuff I think.   Mental problems of all kinds: Depression, PTSD, Anxiety, Bi-Polar, Panic, all of it!   We need role models out there telling their stories.  Telling us it’s going to be ok.  Letting us know there is a life outside our issues.    I hope to be one of those voices someday.  I know it will be a rough and long road, but there is a severe lack of this kind of talk in our society, I hope to change that!

  • So what do you guys think?  Where do you stand with how society views mental illness and do you think we need more role models?  Or do you know of any great stories about mental illness to read?   Feel free to tell me everything in the comments!

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

(This was like 10% proofread!  ya baby ya!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life Really Can Get Better. You Just Need To Try (God, It Sounds Cliche, But It Works)

dave

 

So, this is super annoying, but my life is quickly getting better.  Like, so quickly it’s actually making me mad.  I’m mad that I sat in a shell for so long.  That I feared life.  That I doubted myself.  That I didn’t take risks and go out a limb simply because I believed others when they said I was worth nothing.

 

So for anyone who is reading this blog for the first time, I just started taking classes at Harvard last month.  Im brand new to Boston.  And yet in this one month I have started classes, Ive started writing a novel, and I just got offered a job to write the social media for a company here…. WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE?  

WHAT

THE 

FUCK?

 

Why Didn’t I decide to start writing a novel sooner?  Ive been blogging for like 3 years.  It isn’t like I haven’t had the desire to write.   In fact I’ve had story ideas just sitting in my mind for years.  What have I been doing?

 

Is it possible that things can go well?  That maybe the world is colorful? 

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That maybe the bad guys don’t win at the end?  

I’m still just so fucking annoyed that I sat and believed for so long that nothing good could ever happen to me.  I believed with ALL OF MY HEART that I wasn’t worth anything.  That I failed because I deserved to fail.   That I was just better off dead.   That was the only reason I could think of as to why people kept telling me I was worth nothing.

But you know what, maybe there are other reasons?

~ Maybe because I decided to be myself and not follow the norm, the road wasn’t paved with signs telling me where to go… well the road wasn’t even paved.   Thats just part of being different.

~ Maybe people felt jealous or threatened that I wanted more for my life than a boring 9-5 where I had to drink my weekends away just to cope.

~ Maybe all those failures kept showing me what paths not to go down.  Maybe they were learning experiences?  Maybe thats just life process of anyone who follows the beat of their own drum?

So what can I say to you people who are reading this? 

Well for starters. Don’t give up.  NEVER EVER GIVE UP.

Don’t listen to the people who put you down.  This world is full of hateful people.  They have their issues and reasons as to why they’re such assholes, and none of them should matter to you.  let them go rot in their own filth.  Don’t become one of them.

Remember that you’re talented and smart and can do anything.  Any of us who go trough the day with depression, anxiety, or any other mental problems are so strong.   We have to deal with the shit the common man can’t even comprehend. So remember, if you have the strength to get out of bed, you have the strength to change the world.

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This world can be bright and colorful.  Just like the picture above.  We just need to remember to rock shit out, and never take no for an answer.

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Life is short, don’t waste anymore of it.

~ The Dark Horse

 

 

 

The After-Christmas Blues

ch

 

Ugh….  The Christmas music is gone.  The family has all parted ways… The presents have been opened… and now here we are.  Stuck with the post-christmas lows.

 

Its always weird for me.   Everyone always acts so busy at the holidays.    Like, “Oh I just couldn’t possibly stay any longer, I just have so much to do I have to go right now!”

Does anyone else feel like thats how everyone is?  Even at the family Christmas there are people who come, eat the food, and then are like, “Ok everyone we have to go, bye!”.   And I’m like… Where exactly is everyone going all the time?

If you’re going to come into town Christmas eve night and leave at 8am the day after Christmas what exactly are you even coming home for?     Like, seriously people… if you’re lives are so full-on that actually breaking away from your job for JUST 1 DAY  is now a chore, don’t come home!

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But as I grow older thats how life has become.   Christmas is this whirlwind now consisting of 1 day.  Where I hear nothing but family complaining about how tired the holidays make them, how busy they are, how quickly they have to rush out right after Christmas…. and then before you know it, its December 26.  Everyone is gone.  The mad dash to go somewhere else is in full-swing.

We spend 2 months putting up lights, listening to Christmas carols, buying presents, baking cookies….. all for one day where EVERYONE ON EARTH just complains about how tired these two months have made them.  How they’re just too stressed right now… and how they have to leave immediately.

Well human population:  You’re negativity, lack of enthusiasm, and commitment to your jobs which must be working you 60 or 70 hours a week with how much you complain about them, has left me now tired, depressed, and empathetic.

Your Christmas has ruined mine.  I hope you’re happy.  

And now you’re all gone.  Back to your jobs which you hate so much.   Back to paying off your mortgages, your kids, your cars, and the presents you couldn’t afford.    You’re back to living your lives you complain about so much.     And Why? 

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Now don’t get me wrong.  Im not some unemployed welfare muncher.  I work as well.    And no, I don’t like my job.  But you know what people, I’m doing sometime about it.  Im going back to school.  Ive never invested in things that would keep me tied down to consumerist culture like buying a house, buying the newest car, or  the crappy gadgets that don’t do anything (talkin’ to you fitbit and apple watch people).     Because without having any of that hanging over my head I’m free to switch up my life.  Im free to change things.  Im not tied down.  I don’t have anything looming over my head.   I am not happy with my life, and therefore I am changing it.  You people are not happy with your lives, and yet you just sit in your filth.   You tie yourself down.   You get stuck, trapped, and captured.

Then this one time of year comes around meant for family, fun, and friendship.   It could be so beautiful.  The lights, the trees, the time spent together….but no.   Instead you’re so frazzled that the holidays have become a pathetic spectacle.   Christmas is now just one more day in your life that has clearly become so boring, so routine, and mundane that you just could’t give a fuck anymore.

And thats sad.     And it makes me sad.    And what makes it even worse is that you’re all convinced thats just how life is.   Working a job that doesn’t really make you happy is something you believe everyone just does.    Buying too many presents for people who don’t actually need them is just part of the season.   Getting fatter and fatter every year is just part of getting older…and so on and so on.    If your 15 yr old self saw you right now, what would they think?

Apparently to most of you, adulthood is the end of your life.   All you have is the memories of your youth now.

I don’t want that as my life.    And I’m sorry that so many of you have let that become you.

Sorry for the horribly negative post, just something Ive been noticing.

~ The Dark Horse

Wishing I Could Restart Life

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So I’m back home in Ohio because my visa for New Zealand expired.   Im living back home, on my little street, back in my childhood room, and all my movies and books.

Im working part time in retail until I figure out what to do with my life, but I will say working part time has been amazing.  After 50 hour work weeks for a full year in New Zealand, going to only working 25 has been amazing.   I can take time to go to the gym,  take time to cook from scratch, and take time for one of my guilty pleasures: A nice relaxing bike ride.

These bike rides however have become filled with intense and deep thoughts on life.    You see, at the end of my street there is a park, and next to that park is a high school.  The high school football team uses the park to practice since its a big open space.     So when I go for my bike rides in the park, I bike right past the football team.

 

This has got me thinking:

WHAT WOULD LIFE HAVE BEEN LIKE TO BE LIKE THEM? 

AP AP10THINGSTOSEE- SHAMOKIN SOUTHERN COLUMBIA FOOTBALL S FBH USA PA

What would life have been like to a popular and athletic kid in high school?

BACKGROUND ON ME: Gay, liberal, interested in travel, green-tech, geography, and my dream was to go to LA to be in movies…..

So, as you can imagine, growing up in a high school in Ohio was fucking hell.   I was constantly made fun of, beat up, and nobody would speak to me because it was considered social suicide (Well, they would speak to me if it was to call me fag or tell me that I was going to die of AIDS one day).  My parents were ashamed of me so I couldn’t talk to them.   My guidance counselor at school wanted nothing to do with me (because she was equally as redneck as everyone else) and the only advice she ever gave me when I told her I wanted to go to LA for college was, “Have you ever considered staying in Ohio and going to a Community College?”

** Also, a side note: for anyone out there wondering if I was just a deadbeat, the answer is No.   I graduated with a 4.0 and I did go to LA for college with absolutely no help or support from anyone, so take that Ohio, you bunch of bastards**

But I have to admit.   That experience has always made me wonder: What if everything was different?   Because you see, being strong and brave even when everyone around you tells you you’re weak and pathetic comes with a price.   As you grow up, you become jaded.

That little fucker of an emotion (or thought pattern I guess?)   You see the world differently forever.   Its hard to not view yourself as an outcast.  Its hard to not brace yourself for everything around you to fall apart at any moment.   Its hard to believe that anyone you’re talking to you now would have been nice to you in high school if they would have grown up in your hometown with you then.   There is a permanent stain.  A smear of hatred, fear, resentment, and agony that will never go away.

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Which is why these boys at the park capture my emotions.   As I bike along the path my eyes almost glaze over as I watch them.   I just look at them.   They must be friends with each other.   The school has signs up in the windows where people have painted big letters that say “GO EAGLES!“.    Can you imagine being that popular?

They run and jump and kick and tackle.    Their dads must be so proud of them.  The spitting image of what every Ohio boy should be.   Their fathers get to live out their ‘Friday Night Lights’ fantasies through their boys.    My father never looked at me with pride.   I was always the black sheep of the family.   The one they had to always keep from saying or doing embracing things.    The one that was a hard worker, but had his head in the clouds.   The one who, as my mom would always say, “needed to come back down to Earth and grow up”.

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These guys probably play grab-ass in the shower, fuck the cheerleaders, get drunk at parties, and form bonds that they will have for the rest of their lives from doing all that as a team.  I have no idea what I just said by the way.  Thats just what I see in movies and stuff.  I was never able to be immature and stupid in my life because I was always alone.   I had to look our for myself because nobody else would.   I also don’t know what having a “bond” with another person feels like.   I imagine it must be fun though.  Must make you feel good.   Must make living a lot more fun.

So as I ride by I just stare and imagine.   I think of all the things they must do and how great their youths must be.   Then I like to imagine me being in that situation.    What if I was ever part of a team?   Can you imagine how much fun it would be for someone to have your back?    To wake up and look forward to high school in the morning?      To believe that you mattered?  To even have other people tell you so?

For a few brief moments Im filled with a small amount of joy.   The illusion and the fantasy seems so nice.   For a few seconds in my day I can erase the past and refill it with how I wish it would have been.    Bright sunny September afternoons.   Playing football with all my friends.   Looking forward to the big game on Friday night.    The party that would happen after, and all the great memories Id have forever.

But then I bike on past and its all gone.   And I’m me again.

A 26 year old who just went catatonic while looking at a bunch of high school kids.  Im sure they all think I’m some fucking weird child rapist or something.   Or maybe since I’m 26 I’m still too young to look scary (Im hoping thats the case at least).

But you see thats my life, and thats what its like to be gay.    You always wonder if people think you’re a sick perv.   Why?  Well because I was a gay kid.  In Ohio.   Who was never shown a single ounce of kindness.   Who was always told I was a dirty pervert.   Someone worthy of hell.

My mind is forever stained in negativity.

I arrive back home, go up to my room and feel the weirdness of all my mixed emotions.    The tingling I still have from that brief moment of imagining a happy life.   The anxiety I feel, wondering if they were all looking at me as I looked at them.   The dread I have for my future.   And the sorrow I feel because of how fucked up my youth was.

But you know what, for a few brief minutes in my day, it was nice to imagine a better existence.    It was nice to imagine myself as one of the high school Titans who had it so well.

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~ The Dark Horse

Suicide and “Its Just A Cry For Help” (But Can You Blame Them)

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How many times have you heard someone say “people who cut themselves are just looking for attention”.   Or, “blah blah blah wasn’t gonna actually do it, it was just a cry for help”.

 

Then people proceed to see it like its something not worth dealing with.  Or that the suicidal person was just a drama queen looking for their oscar winning movie moment.

 

But perhaps we need to look at it from a new direction, and for anyone out there with depression or anxiety or any mental problems you know exactly what I’m talking about:

 

 

Any of you people out there who doesn’t have to go through this, you have no absolutely no idea how much pain we feel.

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When people like us try to talk to normal people, what are we meat with?    The same few lines like some broken record:

1.)  Oh yeah I’ve hard some hard times too, you’ll get through

My dream response:  “hahaha…..I really hope the next time you’re on an airplane it crashes over the open ocean…. ”

 

2.) Yeah my friend has depression I totally get it…..

My dream response: “Well if thats all you say to your friend then I feel really bad for your friend”.

 

3.) Maybe you’re just focusing on the bad?  Have you tried meditating? 

 

My dream response:  (there would be no words, id just grab the nearest share object and go full blown psycho)

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So to all you people out there who just think its all for attention, have you ever considered that maybe when those you know try talking to you and they get those response, maybe they learn to not share things with you anymore?

And maybe when they attempt suicide there are actually one of two reasons?

1.)  They literally can’t stand the idea of living any longer because of how painful it is? 

2.) And this is the one you really need to focus on,  maybe the cry for help was to finally make people around them understand how much the pain they feel really is?  

Ah yes, ever consider that?   Perhaps a lifetime of getting brushed to the side hurts people even more?

Maybe that suicide attempt was to finally make everyone around them make up.   Make them see the pain inside?

And when that happens, please do not respond with “it was just for attention”, or “oh they weren’t really going to go through with it”.  because what that makes you my dear, is a total cunt.

 

And to all of you out there who are feeling like you may try and take your life, or for anyone who is worried about someone who may, plead read on:

 

 

Press play and then keep reading!

 

There are some pretty dumb ways to die:

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For example, this blog would advise to not invite Freddy Krueger for dinner 

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Sadly, movies have lied to us all.  Bears are not like Baloo from the jungle Book. Therefore Poking bears is another idea that this blog would consider a dumb way to die.

 

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Although the idea may sound like the ultimate adventure, this blog sadly informs you to never take off a spacesuit while in the vacuum of space because…well,  its the vacuum of space….

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However, the dumbest way to die is by taking your own life.  Don’t do it.

If you are feeling unstable in any way, even if it isn’t suicidal, there are tons of resources out there!

Check out local helplines that are waiting to speak to you! Just google search “Depression help line”, “lifeline” or “Suicide hotline” and the search results with bring up numbers for your local area or country!

There is always hope!

~ The Dark Horse