The Writer's Block

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-   -   Your emotional venting thread. I'll explain. (http://www.kidpub.com/forum3/showthread.php?t=2095)

lvhamsters 07-22-2013 01:52 AM

This song is actually kind of comforting. I don't know why. It's depressing, yet.... it shows someone's actually there for ya, you know? That someone knows what your going through? c:

Do you ever feel like breaking down
Do you ever feel out of place
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you
Do you ever wanna run away
Do you lock yourself in your room
With your radio on turned up so loud
That no one hear's you screaming
No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like to be like me

To feel hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked
When your down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

etc .....
Welcome to My Life~ Simple Plan
It has helped me o.o Hope it can help some of you c:

Lily09 07-22-2013 01:53 AM

its sad bc u know everyone EVERYONE will leave you in your life (unless u die before them) and its just sad because even when you arent dying before them the people you love and once thought were your friends will leave you even when they say the WONT and its just like FUCK. YOU. and then you have no idea whether or not to be happy or pissed or annoyed or sad if they come back but you're pissed and sometimes people waltz back into your life and pretend like they care and youre just happy that they're there but really they dont care and itd be better if they werent back and others run back and youre really just pissed and sometimes, some people never come back at all no matter how much time you waste over wishing they were back. sometimes they dont even inform you that they're gone, sometimes they just leave without notice and thats the worst kind of heartbreak ever when you aren't sure if theyre your friend or not because they didnt TELL YOU. so you say 'oh maybe they're just busy' but then they start popping up everywhere except for where you are and you KNOW they're not busy so it HURTS like hell and thats how you know its over. and you try and try and try to accept it but no matter how many times you listen to angsty songs or think FUCK YOU BITCH I DONT FUCKIN NEED A SHIT FRIEND LIKE YOU you still miss them anyway and ugh
i'd just rather you tell me that youre done instead of leaving without a notice and keep me guessing
and i cant believe no one else is pissed at you
how is that so?
ugsjlfdasjfkl;ds'
everyone leaves

maxi 07-22-2013 02:02 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by TheAshWolf (Post 482616)
You're okay? For sure? <:^) Well, good! I'm glad. *gives a taco* I'm here if you decide you still want to talk, though.

Mhm. I guess so............

TheAshWolf 07-22-2013 02:35 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by maxi (Post 482636)
Mhm. I guess so............

<:^/ That didn't sound very sure...

AlgebraAddict 07-22-2013 03:19 AM

Iím scared. Scared about the coming school year. Last year almost killed me. It can only get worse, and Iím scared. Scared that someone will find out about me. Realize that the combination of sleep lost from countless hours spent staring at the ceiling through blurred tears and struggling with assignments that I feel too stupid to do and the stress from all the horrible cutting words people throw at me like they think I donít give a shit, but I do, and all the insecurity I feel; being not smart enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, not clever enough, not good enough of a friend, not good enough of a daughterórealize that the combination of everything life gives me leads to depression and staring, fists clenched, at a medicine cabinet. And the hallucinations. When the strange kind of digital tinge nearly faded and I confused reality with the horrors only my mind produced, when I would flee to the bathrooms to crouch with my hands over my ears trying to focus on something good so that the laughter would fade away, and I didnít know what was real and what wasnít, and I was scared to know. The simplest things can make or break me. I hate how ignorant people are, how Iím too scared to thank them for the tiny things they did. The girl who gave me a hug and told me that I was awesome, the friend that spent an afternoon on the bus laughing with me, the boy who predicted I would win the math competitions and high fived me when I did.
Theyíll never know they saved my life. They donít know what does.
The music. The Ďweird goth stuffĒóthe genre they stuff MCR, Evanescence, Jars of Clay, Faith and the Muse, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Emilie Autumn, Thrice, and all the others that helped me through it. They donít know that the song I grin stupidly when it comes on the radio is the song that I spent lying awake crying to because it gave me a little bit of hope. And even the friends that say, ďThis is actually kind of catchyĒ, when they listen to it, just pretend they think itís stupid to go along with everyone else.
My writing. What they assume to be a weird hobby is what Iíve built my life into. What I spend my days thinking about and my nights dreaming about. Characters and people who I can flood emotion into and somehow express my own. ĎYou think youíre soooo good, donít you, Esther.í Yes. Yes, I am brilliant. I am a fucking genius, and I can write, and if anyone talks about my writing I want to tell them to shut the fuck up because I donít want to deal with that shit.
Kidpub.
I donít explain much about it. My friends are a little critical of it, but they donít know much.
But let me ask them this.
Who told me I could do it when the rest of you told me to give up because I was probably hopeless and a piece of shit anyway? Not you.
Who told me that I was awesome and fabulous and meant a lot to them when the rest of you just shunned me because they didnít feel like talking to the weird kid? Not you.
Who spent hours with me helping me and talking with me through everything I needed help with and giving the emotional support I was so starved for? Not you.
Who gave me the gift of a band that told me that the world was ugly but I was beautiful, when you made fun of what I listened to and went on to listen to your shallow, meaningless catchy tunes? Not you.
Who saved my life when you had degraded me down to almost nothing? Not you.
At the end of it all, Iím just scared of the world and scared of myself. I hate both of them a whole lot, too.

L.S.Trendom 07-22-2013 03:29 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by AlgebraAddict (Post 482661)
Iím scared. Scared about the coming school year. Last year almost killed me. It can only get worse, and Iím scared. Scared that someone will find out about me. Realize that the combination of sleep lost from countless hours spent staring at the ceiling through blurred tears and struggling with assignments that I feel too stupid to do and the stress from all the horrible cutting words people throw at me like they think I donít give a shit, but I do, and all the insecurity I feel; being not smart enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, not clever enough, not good enough of a friend, not good enough of a daughterórealize that the combination of everything life gives me leads to depression and staring, fists clenched, at a medicine cabinet. And the hallucinations. When the strange kind of digital tinge nearly faded and I confused reality with the horrors only my mind produced, when I would flee to the bathrooms to crouch with my hands over my ears trying to focus on something good so that the laughter would fade away, and I didnít know what was real and what wasnít, and I was scared to know. The simplest things can make or break me. I hate how ignorant people are, how Iím too scared to thank them for the tiny things they did. The girl who gave me a hug and told me that I was awesome, the friend that spent an afternoon on the bus laughing with me, the boy who predicted I would win the math competitions and high fived me when I did.
Theyíll never know they saved my life. They donít know what does.
The music. The Ďweird goth stuffĒóthe genre they stuff MCR, Evanescence, Jars of Clay, Faith and the Muse, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Emilie Autumn, Thrice, and all the others that helped me through it. They donít know that the song I grin stupidly when it comes on the radio is the song that I spent lying awake crying to because it gave me a little bit of hope. And even the friends that say, ďThis is actually kind of catchyĒ, when they listen to it, just pretend they think itís stupid to go along with everyone else.
My writing. What they assume to be a weird hobby is what Iíve built my life into. What I spend my days thinking about and my nights dreaming about. Characters and people who I can flood emotion into and somehow express my own. ĎYou think youíre soooo good, donít you, Esther.í Yes. Yes, I am brilliant. I am a fucking genius, and I can write, and if anyone talks about my writing I want to tell them to shut the fuck up because I donít want to deal with that shit.
Kidpub.
I donít explain much about it. My friends are a little critical of it, but they donít know much.
But let me ask them this.
Who told me I could do it when the rest of you told me to give up because I was probably hopeless and a piece of shit anyway? Not you.
Who told me that I was awesome and fabulous and meant a lot to them when the rest of you just shunned me because they didnít feel like talking to the weird kid? Not you.
Who spent hours with me helping me and talking with me through everything I needed help with and giving the emotional support I was so starved for? Not you.
Who gave me the gift of a band that told me that the world was ugly but I was beautiful, when you made fun of what I listened to and went on to listen to your shallow, meaningless catchy tunes? Not you.
Who saved my life when you had degraded me down to almost nothing? Not you.
At the end of it all, Iím just scared of the world and scared of myself. I hate both of them a whole lot, too.

*hugs* it can get better too. it won't just get worse
you should find someone irl to tell, they might be able to helpÖ
you shouldn't give a fuck because they're wrong, you're more than good enough, you are fucking fabulous. you're way smart, way clever, way pretty, and you're a great friend.
if you ever need support just tell us okay? you can email me or lots of others. i'd be glad to try to help.
i'm really really really fucking glad you're still alive. *crushes you with hugs*

LaurenM 07-22-2013 03:44 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lily09 (Post 482632)
its sad bc u know everyone EVERYONE will leave you in your life (unless u die before them) and its just sad because even when you arent dying before them the people you love and once thought were your friends will leave you even when they say the WONT and its just like FUCK. YOU. and then you have no idea whether or not to be happy or pissed or annoyed or sad if they come back but you're pissed and sometimes people waltz back into your life and pretend like they care and youre just happy that they're there but really they dont care and itd be better if they werent back and others run back and youre really just pissed and sometimes, some people never come back at all no matter how much time you waste over wishing they were back. sometimes they dont even inform you that they're gone, sometimes they just leave without notice and thats the worst kind of heartbreak ever when you aren't sure if theyre your friend or not because they didnt TELL YOU. so you say 'oh maybe they're just busy' but then they start popping up everywhere except for where you are and you KNOW they're not busy so it HURTS like hell and thats how you know its over. and you try and try and try to accept it but no matter how many times you listen to angsty songs or think FUCK YOU BITCH I DONT FUCKIN NEED A SHIT FRIEND LIKE YOU you still miss them anyway and ugh
i'd just rather you tell me that youre done instead of leaving without a notice and keep me guessing
and i cant believe no one else is pissed at you
how is that so?
ugsjlfdasjfkl;ds'
everyone leaves

Two of my friends are leaving and I'd probably get a whole lot more emotional if I knew them for more than a year.

Quote:

Originally Posted by AlgebraAddict (Post 482661)
Iím scared. Scared about the coming school year. Last year almost killed me. It can only get worse, and Iím scared. Scared that someone will find out about me. Realize that the combination of sleep lost from countless hours spent staring at the ceiling through blurred tears and struggling with assignments that I feel too stupid to do and the stress from all the horrible cutting words people throw at me like they think I donít give a shit, but I do, and all the insecurity I feel; being not smart enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, not clever enough, not good enough of a friend, not good enough of a daughterórealize that the combination of everything life gives me leads to depression and staring, fists clenched, at a medicine cabinet. And the hallucinations. When the strange kind of digital tinge nearly faded and I confused reality with the horrors only my mind produced, when I would flee to the bathrooms to crouch with my hands over my ears trying to focus on something good so that the laughter would fade away, and I didnít know what was real and what wasnít, and I was scared to know. The simplest things can make or break me. I hate how ignorant people are, how Iím too scared to thank them for the tiny things they did. The girl who gave me a hug and told me that I was awesome, the friend that spent an afternoon on the bus laughing with me, the boy who predicted I would win the math competitions and high fived me when I did.
Theyíll never know they saved my life. They donít know what does.
The music. The Ďweird goth stuffĒóthe genre they stuff MCR, Evanescence, Jars of Clay, Faith and the Muse, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Emilie Autumn, Thrice, and all the others that helped me through it. They donít know that the song I grin stupidly when it comes on the radio is the song that I spent lying awake crying to because it gave me a little bit of hope. And even the friends that say, ďThis is actually kind of catchyĒ, when they listen to it, just pretend they think itís stupid to go along with everyone else.
My writing. What they assume to be a weird hobby is what Iíve built my life into. What I spend my days thinking about and my nights dreaming about. Characters and people who I can flood emotion into and somehow express my own. ĎYou think youíre soooo good, donít you, Esther.í Yes. Yes, I am brilliant. I am a fucking genius, and I can write, and if anyone talks about my writing I want to tell them to shut the fuck up because I donít want to deal with that shit.
Kidpub.
I donít explain much about it. My friends are a little critical of it, but they donít know much.
But let me ask them this.
Who told me I could do it when the rest of you told me to give up because I was probably hopeless and a piece of shit anyway? Not you.
Who told me that I was awesome and fabulous and meant a lot to them when the rest of you just shunned me because they didnít feel like talking to the weird kid? Not you.
Who spent hours with me helping me and talking with me through everything I needed help with and giving the emotional support I was so starved for? Not you.
Who gave me the gift of a band that told me that the world was ugly but I was beautiful, when you made fun of what I listened to and went on to listen to your shallow, meaningless catchy tunes? Not you.
Who saved my life when you had degraded me down to almost nothing? Not you.
At the end of it all, Iím just scared of the world and scared of myself. I hate both of them a whole lot, too.

School is basically a bunch of people who think I'm apathetic and occasionally humorous, or think I'm a braggart because I speak English to half of my friends, or are my friends.
Remember you said you are a fucking genius. You know it yourself. Let yourself think they're inferior because they can't see pass the surface of writing.


...
Now I still think of that imposter who pretended to be my friend from another account and used her identity (until I was informed) to throw insults at me, you're just a piece of shit, get a life, etc. My other friend knows her from her primary school, and told me and another friend not to underestimate that person. I'm still paranoid about posting this here because apparently she's a very good stalker, but I NEED TO FUCKING GET THIS OUT

And tomorrow...about 23 hours later, I'd be on the plane to San Francisco.
EPGY Stanford SUmmer institutes.
Writing.
I'm kind of expecting to get friends there and am pretty sure that I will because of writing, but I can't help being anxious either.

HeatherB 07-22-2013 07:33 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by AlgebraAddict (Post 482661)
Iím scared. Scared about the coming school year. Last year almost killed me. It can only get worse, and Iím scared. Scared that someone will find out about me. Realize that the combination of sleep lost from countless hours spent staring at the ceiling through blurred tears and struggling with assignments that I feel too stupid to do and the stress from all the horrible cutting words people throw at me like they think I donít give a shit, but I do, and all the insecurity I feel; being not smart enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, not clever enough, not good enough of a friend, not good enough of a daughterórealize that the combination of everything life gives me leads to depression and staring, fists clenched, at a medicine cabinet. And the hallucinations. When the strange kind of digital tinge nearly faded and I confused reality with the horrors only my mind produced, when I would flee to the bathrooms to crouch with my hands over my ears trying to focus on something good so that the laughter would fade away, and I didnít know what was real and what wasnít, and I was scared to know. The simplest things can make or break me. I hate how ignorant people are, how Iím too scared to thank them for the tiny things they did. The girl who gave me a hug and told me that I was awesome, the friend that spent an afternoon on the bus laughing with me, the boy who predicted I would win the math competitions and high fived me when I did.
Theyíll never know they saved my life. They donít know what does.
The music. The Ďweird goth stuffĒóthe genre they stuff MCR, Evanescence, Jars of Clay, Faith and the Muse, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Emilie Autumn, Thrice, and all the others that helped me through it. They donít know that the song I grin stupidly when it comes on the radio is the song that I spent lying awake crying to because it gave me a little bit of hope. And even the friends that say, ďThis is actually kind of catchyĒ, when they listen to it, just pretend they think itís stupid to go along with everyone else.
My writing. What they assume to be a weird hobby is what Iíve built my life into. What I spend my days thinking about and my nights dreaming about. Characters and people who I can flood emotion into and somehow express my own. ĎYou think youíre soooo good, donít you, Esther.í Yes. Yes, I am brilliant. I am a fucking genius, and I can write, and if anyone talks about my writing I want to tell them to shut the fuck up because I donít want to deal with that shit.
Kidpub.
I donít explain much about it. My friends are a little critical of it, but they donít know much.
But let me ask them this.
Who told me I could do it when the rest of you told me to give up because I was probably hopeless and a piece of shit anyway? Not you.
Who told me that I was awesome and fabulous and meant a lot to them when the rest of you just shunned me because they didnít feel like talking to the weird kid? Not you.
Who spent hours with me helping me and talking with me through everything I needed help with and giving the emotional support I was so starved for? Not you.
Who gave me the gift of a band that told me that the world was ugly but I was beautiful, when you made fun of what I listened to and went on to listen to your shallow, meaningless catchy tunes? Not you.
Who saved my life when you had degraded me down to almost nothing? Not you.
At the end of it all, Iím just scared of the world and scared of myself. I hate both of them a whole lot, too.

(so i was gonna say something but then i got awkward about it and deleted it before it got weird i'm sorry basically the message was that i can really relate to this post a lot and if there was a like button on the posts i would like this one so much the button would break and not in a "i like your fear/pain" way just in a "oh my god this is pretty much my life" way all right i think i'm gonna shut up now before this gets any weirder i'm sorry)

LaurenM 07-22-2013 01:05 PM

I probably said the most honest things ever tonight/this morning considering it's midnight right now. All in hate.
It's so obvious. It's her pride. And my dad's pride. And my pride, obviously, but hey only ever focus on that. I just want you guys to let me make my own fucking decisions. I was long done with it and my mum just got too demanding.
Have you ever cried until your tears got significantly less salty.

Stephiey 07-22-2013 01:43 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by AlgebraAddict (Post 482661)
Iím scared. Scared about the coming school year. Last year almost killed me. It can only get worse, and Iím scared. Scared that someone will find out about me. Realize that the combination of sleep lost from countless hours spent staring at the ceiling through blurred tears and struggling with assignments that I feel too stupid to do and the stress from all the horrible cutting words people throw at me like they think I donít give a shit, but I do, and all the insecurity I feel; being not smart enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, not clever enough, not good enough of a friend, not good enough of a daughterórealize that the combination of everything life gives me leads to depression and staring, fists clenched, at a medicine cabinet. And the hallucinations. When the strange kind of digital tinge nearly faded and I confused reality with the horrors only my mind produced, when I would flee to the bathrooms to crouch with my hands over my ears trying to focus on something good so that the laughter would fade away, and I didnít know what was real and what wasnít, and I was scared to know. The simplest things can make or break me. I hate how ignorant people are, how Iím too scared to thank them for the tiny things they did. The girl who gave me a hug and told me that I was awesome, the friend that spent an afternoon on the bus laughing with me, the boy who predicted I would win the math competitions and high fived me when I did.
Theyíll never know they saved my life. They donít know what does.
The music. The Ďweird goth stuffĒóthe genre they stuff MCR, Evanescence, Jars of Clay, Faith and the Muse, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Emilie Autumn, Thrice, and all the others that helped me through it. They donít know that the song I grin stupidly when it comes on the radio is the song that I spent lying awake crying to because it gave me a little bit of hope. And even the friends that say, ďThis is actually kind of catchyĒ, when they listen to it, just pretend they think itís stupid to go along with everyone else.
My writing. What they assume to be a weird hobby is what Iíve built my life into. What I spend my days thinking about and my nights dreaming about. Characters and people who I can flood emotion into and somehow express my own. ĎYou think youíre soooo good, donít you, Esther.í Yes. Yes, I am brilliant. I am a fucking genius, and I can write, and if anyone talks about my writing I want to tell them to shut the fuck up because I donít want to deal with that shit.
Kidpub.
I donít explain much about it. My friends are a little critical of it, but they donít know much.
But let me ask them this.
Who told me I could do it when the rest of you told me to give up because I was probably hopeless and a piece of shit anyway? Not you.
Who told me that I was awesome and fabulous and meant a lot to them when the rest of you just shunned me because they didnít feel like talking to the weird kid? Not you.
Who spent hours with me helping me and talking with me through everything I needed help with and giving the emotional support I was so starved for? Not you.
Who gave me the gift of a band that told me that the world was ugly but I was beautiful, when you made fun of what I listened to and went on to listen to your shallow, meaningless catchy tunes? Not you.
Who saved my life when you had degraded me down to almost nothing? Not you.
At the end of it all, Iím just scared of the world and scared of myself. I hate both of them a whole lot, too.


*huggles* I'm so sorry you feel like this, AA. I've been feeling a lot like this lately too. :) But let me tell you something.

You are amazing.

I know that you might not believe it right now, but it's true. I've read your writing and I am seriously jealous. So so jealous. XD Your writing is like light-years away from mine and I'm older than you. :D And no matter what ever happens, just know that your KidPub family is here for you. I will be here for you. Seriously. Just shoot me up an email the next time you feel down. My Contact tab is always open. :) And don't you ever think about killing yourself or self-harming or anything. I know you can get past this :) You're so so strong, AA and I know you don't think so but it's true.

*hugs*

*gigantic glomp because you are amazing*


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