I haven't posted here for a while, but I am the same person I was years ago. Nothing has changed.

I am screaming from the inside from my pain. The pain of no physical wounds. The pain of not feeling normal. The pain of not being able to talk and socialize with others. The pain of being no one to any one. The pain of not feeling worthy. the pain of feeling lonely.

I tried to face my pain, but it has caused me more pain. In the past I escaped this pain by doing things I regret today. The ghost of what I did follows me every day. Now I have pain over pain, regret and no hope.

I want to believe in good days in the future, and in escaping moments I do, but soon I return to my doubtful state. I don't deserve the good things in life. I am a failure. I am no one.

If I screamed, no one would listen. If I remained silent, no one would care. I need help, but help I cannot find. I am not asking the help of seeing a psychiatrist, but I need a help that can transform me completely from the inside. What I show is a symptom. I want to heal the disease. To change me from the inside.

May be I am dreaming. May be nothing will do that. May be all I will get in this life is pain and regret, and then die and be forgotten forever as if I hadn't been.

[Sunflower123]

I'm sorry you're having such a tough time and that you are in such pain. You can be helped and can feel better. I encourage you to see a pdoc or tdoc as soon as possible. Best wishes.

I too think there is help and people who will listen, you just need to go to the right place (a general doctor would be a good start). There is help and you do not have to struggle alone.

I know I am escaping my pain by writing my pain, as I escaped my pain in the past by doing things I never thought I would do. Both have caused me more pain. I know no one really cares and only me can rescue me, but still, ... I cannot. I cannot bear my current life, and a worse one is awaiting me because I cannot do anything about my current situation. I cannot even focus to determine to do something, or even organize my thoughts. My body is weak, but my mind is weaker, and my brain doesn't help me.

My life has been ruined. I didn't like my life and myself, and instead I created hell and a worse person that I will never escape. The little hope inside me has gone. I am just waiting the moment of collapsing, and falling. There is no escape from my destiny, and no repair can be made at this point. I really really tried to fix myself, but I couldn't, and no one was there for me. Sometimes I think I created this, others I think it wasn't me. I cannot stop blaming my upbringing. I am suffering alone, and no one of my parents or family cares, but is it all my fault? I wasn't sociable because my parents's upbringing was tough. I wasn't given the freedom to develop my social skills. My parents tried to social-engineer me. Not being sociable damaged my life. I couldn't develop friendships and relationships. I couldn't talk normally with others. But all of this is useless to say now. What is done, is done. Whether it was because of others or because of me, the result is clear: I don't belong to this life. I have never felt I belong. I talk with others, but cannot connect with them. I live with them, but feel alone. I've lived by the fake hope of the slim possibility of change, but ... that's gone. I just feel pain now masked by a fake smile.

[systemfailure]

Originally Posted by Mr. Stranger

My life has been ruined. I didn't like my life and myself, and instead I created hell and a worse person that I will never escape. The little hope inside me has gone. I am just waiting the moment of collapsing, and falling. There is no escape from my destiny, and no repair can be made at this point. I really really tried to fix myself, but I couldn't, and no one was there for me. Sometimes I think I created this, others I think it wasn't me. I cannot stop blaming my upbringing. I am suffering alone, and no one of my parents or family cares, but is it all my fault? I wasn't sociable because my parents's upbringing was tough. I wasn't given the freedom to develop my social skills. My parents tried to social-engineer me. Not being sociable damaged my life. I couldn't develop friendships and relationships. I couldn't talk normally with others. But all of this is useless to say now. What is done, is done. Whether it was because of others or because of me, the result is clear: I don't belong to this life. I have never felt I belong. I talk with others, but cannot connect with them. I live with them, but feel alone. I've lived by the fake hope of the slim possibility of change, but ... that's gone. I just feel pain now masked by a fake smile.

If you don't belong to this life, why not create yourself another one ? There are other people who feel exactly the same as you, you may find that talking to them will make you feel a sense of belonging. Maybe its time to look forward, because looking back isn't helping you, call the amaritans and talk to them, they might put you in touch with like minded people

[it'sgrowtime]

I'm sorry you are suffering inner pain, but it's good that you can write about it, I think. It takes courage to do so.

[Olanza-what?]

Hi, I would like to share with you a post that was posted in the "Creative Corner" forum by pegleg7762 I thought perhaps it would be helpful, provide a different way of looking at things:

Originally posted by: pegleg7762

The making of who we are, up to today, are pages in our book of life. Moments in time, etched forever in our minds. Or so we think. Some words, paragraphs, even pages seem to be missing. Some we remember to rip out, others we forget ever existed. Pages so painful, they crush our souls under the weight of the ocean. We lock them away, behind the chained up doors in the hallways of our minds. Sometimes they seem to find their way back in the book and we cant help but reread them. Like a spell, they bring about dark clouds of fear and anger. It's the pages in between we must look to for strength though. For they hold the stories of conquest and courage. Of the times we picked ourselves up, and pushed forward into the unknown. Of life, love, and loss. Stories that make us who we truly are. No book is truly complete without dark moments. Where the hero thought all hope was lost. Yet found the strength to take just one more step, then another. That's what we all must strive to be and realize what we have been, our own hero. Lost, without hope at times, but never defeated. We must make each page in our book count, whether in good times or bad. By looking to the past, we know we can overcome adversity. But dwelling on the past pages drains the imagination and drive to write a new page, to make a new memory...

I wish you the best and hope that this will soon be far, far behind you. Keep fighting the good fight....victory is yours.

[Open Eyes]

I know I am escaping my pain by writing my pain, as I escaped my pain in the past by doing things I never thought I would do.

No, you are allowing yourself to FEEL your pain when you write about it. Your parents NEVER helped you with that, "not your fault", that's their fault and lack.

Also, you may "feel" ruined, but you are not actually "ruined". By spending time again around your parents, you are slowly seeing where you learned how to "struggle" with connecting with others. Just because you have been finally seeing that doesn't mean you have to continue to "believe" what they taught you.

(((((Mr. Stranger))))) You expressed some things that I feel in my darkest moments. Know that you are not alone in the things you think and feel. I hope you are having a better day today.

Mr.Stranger so many people here do care about you - these posts show that.

I agree with Open Eyes - she is very wise, I hope you will find her words helpful for the future you have.

Thanks everyone. Right now tears fill my eyes. I don't know why, though.

I have always been aware of my isolation from people even when I am around them and talk with them. What triggered me to write this post, though, that I am trying to get out and build my life, but life keeps knocking me down. Every try reminds me how inept I am in life. I am very disappointed at myself. No one can stand me talking even my little sister whom I discovered that she is rude and impolite with me, no one interacts with me on Facebook (or in the real life) although I try to interact with others and take the initiative, no one calls me, no one .... and the list goes on and on. I pretend to be OK, but I am not. I am suffocating from the inside. The other option is to give up trying, in which case I will be isolated completely, because no one would knocks my door asking why I am home. But I am trying to escape my isolation because it is so painful to me.

Maybe I am still alive and have kept going during the dark moments, but I am not a hero for sure, even my own hero, because I despise myself. Only my surviving instinct has kept me going. I don't feel myself as a better person after experiencing all these dark moments. I am the same person who is failing in everything in life, where I see others succeed without any effort.

I cannot focus and make something of my pain or internalize it. Sometimes, I try to write it to myself, but I cannot continue. My mind goes blank, and the light becomes brighter, as it is now. I remember the feeling, but cannot always remember the cause or maybe I avoid it.

I try to spend sometimes reading books to find some answers to my struggle, and a way out, but to no avail, so far.

I hope you didn't feel I am "arguing" with any of you. Thanks again for your replies.