[MtnTime2896]

I can't talk to people, not about this anyway.

Not about the fact that when I'm sober I want to die, and when I'm high... I'm at peace with death. Death. It's kinda the common theme here. I keep having issues (or visions) of me speeding down the freeway at 110. I'm not going to detail how it ends. I keep seeing other things like it. Doesn't matter if I'm high or straight, I see it all of the time.

Now, at this moment, I'm having a bit of an existential problem. I'm trying to understand why the hell I'm here. Why anyone's here. So few people in this universe of nothing. The universe sees us individually as a tiny millisecond of time. That's it. That's all we are. And yet -- in an ideal world -- we spend that millisecond loving and being loved by someone or something. We put so much of our own value in our existence, like it's something special. Maybe it is. We place value in pain and agony that comes with life. We place value in the beginning and the end of that small life. What if I can't manage to place value in that, for myself... for me? What if I well and truly am not destined to be here and do not belong?

[MickeyCheeky]

We all belong here, even if we don't know why, and you certainly belong here among us, no matter what other people say

[Fuzzybear]

Good post my friend, thank you for sharing this here. I also agree that you do belong

[SlumberKitty]

I agree too. You belong here.

[TrailRunner14]

Me too! You do belong here!

I have felt that “I don’t belong here” feeling many times. You expressed it with truth.

Thank you for posting it and letting me share it with you!

We both belong here!

[MtnTime2896]

Something else I can't tell anyone...

Possible trigger:

"Said you worry about me. I worry about me too. Wish you were a noose, grab my neck and call it truce."

Originally Posted by Só leigheas

Something else I can't tell anyone...

Possible trigger:

"Said you worry about me. I worry about me too. Wish you were a noose, grab my neck and call it truce."

Possible trigger:

It's okay, it's okay. I'm gonna make it anyway
Sometimes I just feel like quittin', I still might
Why do I put up this fight? Why do I still write?
Sometimes it's hard enough just dealin' with real life
Sometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics
And show these people what my level of skill's like
But I'm still white, sometimes I just hate life
Somethin' ain't right, hit the brake lights
Case of the stage fright, drawin' a blank like
Da-duh-duh-da-da, it ain't my fault
Great big eyeballs, my insides crawl
And I clam up [wham],​ I just slam shut
I just can't do it, my whole manhood's
Just been stripped, I have just been vicked
So I must then get off the bus, then split
Man, **** this ****, yo I'm goin' the **** home
World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road
...

Also...

Possible trigger:

A lot of people ask me, am I afraid of death?
Hell yeah, I'm afraid of death
I don't want to die yet
A lot of people think that I worship the devil
That I do all types of retarded ****
Look, I can't change the way I think
And I can't change the way I am
But if I offended you, good
‘Cause I still don't give a ****

For all the weed that I've smoked – yo, this blunt's for you
To all the people I've offended – yeah, **** you too!
To all the friends I used to have – I miss my past
But the rest of you assholes can kiss my ***
For all the drugs that I've done – yo, I'm still gonna do
To all the people I've offended – yeah, **** you too!
For every time I reminisce – yo, I miss my past
But I still don't give a ****, y'all can kiss my ***

I walked into a gunfight with a knife to kill you
And cut you so fast, when your blood spilled, it was still blue
I'll hang you until you dangle and chain you with both ankles
And pull you apart from both angles
I wanna crush your skull 'til your brains leak out of your veins
And bust open like broken water mains
So tell Saddam not to bother with makin' another bomb
‘Cause I'm crushin' the whole world in my palm
Got your girl on my arm, and I'm armed with a firearm
So big my entire arm is a giant firebomb
Buy your mom a shirt with a Slim Shady iron-on
And the pants to match ("Here, Momma, try 'em on")
I get imaginative with a mouth full of adjectives
A brain full of adverbs, and a box full of laxatives
(Shittin' on rappers) Causing hospital accidents
God help me, before I commit some irresponsible acts again

I know this may sound impossible, but look at Eminem the reason why I love him so much (despite I don't have exact same views as him), is because he was abused, beaten, outcast to the point of brain damage. (Yes, he does have brain damage) YET he has something like savant syndrome, cause he raps like no other. While yes there are some rappers that may rap faster/have better lyrics/never released a crappy album, they aren't quite Shady.

Here is a PsychCentral article on him having bipolar disorder.

I cannot help but relate to him. For you, I know it's gonna be real hard and it won't happen overnight, just try your best to beat your depression and don't burn out in the process. Be like Em, destroy your problems and shine... you don't need to have a career, **** career, just have a nice personality and be in less pain. And enjoy life.

You do belong here in the universe.

[MickeyCheeky]

((((Sò leigheas))))

[Sunflower123]

(((((Sò leigheas))))). I’m sorry you struggle so. I don’t have any words of wisdom but wanted to lend my support. Sending big hugs and supportive vibes.