Just sharing something really bad. · 8:06am Sep 25th, 2019

It has recently (as in today) come to my attention that somebody here with the screen name of Holly is considering suicide. It definitely saddens me when things get so bad for somebody that they decide to end it all. Here is a copy and past of the suicide blog from Holly.

This will be my final blog post, if you couldn’t guess by the title.
I guess anyone paying attention could have seen this one coming. I’ve been nothing but whiny and depressed for almost three years now. I fought as hard as I could to try to get past all this, but since I’m posting this I obviously lost. I’ll do my best not to let emotion speak for me anymore. If I’m about to die, I think it’d be best just to tell everyone the truth, or at least as close to it as my diseased mind can muster at this point. I have a lot I’ve always wanted to say and I’ve never been the kind of person to just disappear without a trace, so I’ll try to give you all as much as I can before I’m gone forever. I suppose a lot of you will be wondering why, so I’m just going to spell it out in no uncertain terms how it ended up like this.
Why:
I’ve become extremely familiar with death and abandonment over the past few years. My first encounter with depression was when I was sixteen, when my girlfriend of three years dumped me and convinced all of my friends to stop talking to me. I almost committed suicide then. It was my first experience with extreme isolation, something I’d become intimately familiar with in the last years of my life. That was around 2011 and when I first got into ponies. The next few years would be much better as I actually found some community here and elsewhere in my life. Obviously wouldn’t last, but this was my first real brush with suicidal depression, and the underlying pain would never really disappear.
In May of 2016 my best friend and I had a falling out that resulted in him blocking me. This was a somewhat similar story to the first time. The person I loved most in the world wanted nothing to do with me, and either through my own lack of social tact, inability to hold myself together, or cosmic interference, I ended up becoming estranged or distant from the rest of my friends as well. In September of that year, I attempted suicide a second time, or at least got extremely close to it. I don’t know if you would call putting a loaded gun to your head and failing to pull the trigger an attempt, but whatever you’d like to call it, that’s where I ended up after another period of extreme isolation and loneliness. This depression basically crippled me. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think straight or focus on anything. I could barely even get myself out of bed to do even the most basic of tasks. I would alternate eating nothing for three or four days only to eat 10,000 calories in two hours and make myself horribly sick. I was plagued by constant headaches from the lack of sleep and stress my own failures were putting me under. This is my lowest state. I ended up failing out of college entirely because of this and had to move back home. Another massive failure to hate myself over. A list that seems to grow every day.
In December of 2016, I saw a glimpse of hope. I’d met a wonderful girl that was going through something similar and needed a friend. We grew extremely close and I finally thought I could see a light out of the tunnel in a life with her. This was unfortunately around the time season 6 of MLP aired, so I ended up losing a lot of friends when they left the fandom. I wasn’t left with a lot of relationships going into 2017, and over time they’d whittle down even more. I suppose it’s worth mentioning that I developed some attachment problems by this point. I was so alone that anything that gave me some relief from the everlasting misery of isolation was something I’d cling to so desperately in an attempt not to lose it that I’d just end up pushing them away. I suppose that’s a problem I’ve never really been able to fix. I alternate between uncomfortable infatuation and an almost insulting coldness with people I meet because deep down I’m terrified any meaningful relationship I make will end up with them blocking me because I can’t control my own neediness. In other instances I avoid any and all potential connections because I have trouble trusting anyone and I’m also terrified that actually making any sort of positive relationship will just end up with me getting hurt in the end regardless. This cycle would leave me with very few friends that I relied extremely heavily on, to the point where they hated me for it. I made that mistake again with her, and she blocked me for it. I don’t blame her. At this point I know that no one really wants to be around me. Anyone that is even remotely familiar with me seems to keep me at arm’s length. Just more reason my death will be a net positive for the world.
Anyway, in June of 2017 we’d broken up and decided to stay friends, only for her to grow continuously more tired of me until she finally blocked me in May the next year. I don’t say this because I’m upset at her. If she reads this, I fully understand that I was a hard person to be around. At this point I’m kind of convinced that I’m always going to end up completely alone anyway. At any rate, I was left with a lot of self-hatred coming out of that relationship. I never thought I was good enough for anyone. I didn’t trust myself to make decisions that would lead to positive relationships anymore. Everything felt like it was getting worse, and I was headed for even more isolation after that.
In February of 2018, my old best friend committed suicide. In this laundry list of trauma that’s going to lead to me spraying the remnants of my brain stem all over the grass, this is probably the worst of it. I was plagued with guilt and regret over this. I’ve never felt a worse pain in my life than to know I completely failed as a friend and the one person I’d wanted to be there for the rest of my life was gone forever. I miss him so much, and the only solace in all of this that I can find is that I might see him again once I commit suicide. I thought I could work through this, but not anymore. I had some intermittent contact with the aforementioned ex to help me through this, but after she blocked me I was left to try to deal with this trauma alone in probably the absolute worst environment I could have possibly picked.
I had worked as a prison guard for a while before that environment started taking its toll on my mental health. Who would’ve guessed working around a bunch of people who hate you wouldn’t have been very pleasant for you? I already hated myself enough as it was, but once my best friend died I quit that job and I decided to get my cdl and change to truck driving instead. I figured with the handful of friends I had and the ex that I had some contact with, I could make it through fine with a support group to rely on, but I was wrong. Like I said, in May of 2018 she blocked me and I was left completely isolated and alone in that job. I kind of had to work there to pay off the debt I took on for trucking school. In July of 2018 I came home for my four day break only to experience my dog getting run over by a fedex truck. I spent my last day off burying the puppy I had raised personally over the past year. I lost a few more friends and would only have contact with people once every three or four weeks over the time I was out there. I became intimately familiar with isolation and extreme loneliness again, and in August of 2018, I almost jumped off of a bridge crossing the border into Kentucky. Working 70 hours a week with no one to talk to and nothing positive in your life around that really makes you feel like a worthless drone. I had no hope of escape any longer. I’d failed so much and so often that I was left with almost no friends, no free time, and constant emotional pain. When I stood on that bridge, I knew it wasn’t tall enough to kill me instantly. I thought about the intense pain I’d feel as I lied there broken and bleeding in the dirt. How I’d be in complete agony for a few minutes before I died from the internal bleeding or something. I weighed my options and honestly figured it’d be better than having to live through each day like I already had been doing. The pain of dealing with all of that loss and rejection and abandonment was so much that having to writhe around in dozens of broken bones until my death didn’t seem so bad. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t jump off that bridge if I’m being honest. It would have saved me a lot of pain. Guess it doesn’t matter now since I’m about to die regardless.
Anyway, I quit that job in October of 2018 in hopes of improving myself and becoming self-sufficient through my writing or learning how to code on my own. From this point things started looking up again, but obviously wouldn’t last either, considering what you’re reading.
I met another girl in February of 2019. She was kind and caring and seemed like she genuinely wanted to help. She talked with me when I felt horrible and I helped her with the same and we got very close over the coming months. Things were rocky in June and she stopped talking to me after a fight, but came back, which really did mean a lot to me. Honestly seeing someone actually want to talk to me again after something like that made me feel like I actually mattered and made a difference somewhere in the world, but you know the story by now. It never actually lasts. In March of 2019, my first grandfather on my mom’s side died of heart problems. This loss was heartbreaking to be sure, but I had a bit of a support structure so it wasn’t all that bad. However a few months later in July, my dad’s father died as well. I offered to take care of his dog that I’d intermittently help raise since she was a puppy. I ended up getting her killed too. At this point, I was dealing with so much unresolved trauma that I was on the edge of suicide again. The only reason I didn’t was because of the two friends I still had around at the time.
At this point I had completely shut down again. I couldn’t focus on anything but the hurt if I wasn’t distracting myself. I used cartoons, junk food, video games, and friends to try to dull the pain. Things were getting worse and I really would have just ended it had the aforementioned friend not come back into my life. Anyway, it was clear that I wasn’t going to be able to support myself from my passions in this state. I was so broken over all this trauma piling up that I could hardly do anything productive. I got to the point financially where I had to put up or shut up, and unfortunately had to give up my dreams to make money again. I went back to trucking, thinking I had a friend that I could rely on that genuinely wanted to be there for me. Remember the part about being too needy? Of course it happened again. Not only had I failed at becoming who I wanted to be, I was blocked by my closest friend yet again. I was so terrified that I’d end up out here isolated and alone that I clung to her so hard she had to get away from me too. I don't blame her, I guess. No one should have to shoulder the burden of being around me at this point. I'm kind of just an emotional liability and everyone's lives would probably be improved by cutting me out of it.
As this journey ends, I suppose it’s worth mentioning that both my physical health have been declining rapidly over the past two years. I’ve been losing my hair, accumulating injuries, getting less and less sleep, and have had my mental faculties diminish to the point where I can barely even focus on reading a 2k word story anymore. I don’t know if it’s just the depression or me taking really bad care of myself, but my life has been miserable--physically, mentally, and emotionally--for about two years now. Everything has been getting worse and worse until this point, and I’m just going to call it here. It’s not going to get better. I promised myself in 2016 I’d wait before killing myself to see if things improved and they have done the exact opposite.
So this is where my story ends. Alone and isolated again. The people I was closest to in life want nothing to do with me. I tried my best to be a good friend. I tried so hard to be as considerate and caring as I possibly could be, but I suppose by the time it mattered I was too broken to make anything last. Maybe I’m damaged from the constant isolation, or maybe I am just a genuinely bad person people don’t want to be around. Maybe I was too afraid of my own shortcomings to really try. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be dead by the end of today anyway.
So there you have it. Blocked by the person I was closest to in the world four times, five deaths of those I was close to, failing in the most important journeys in my life, and losing pretty much all of my friends to the point where no one has really bothered to speak to me at all for the past three weeks. I was strong enough to handle these things individually, and maybe if they'd been spread out over a decade things would have been different. Everything happening so fast and so constantly has left me with no strength left. I have nothing left. The people I had in my life have left and I’ve come to the end, and I’m glad it’s over to be honest. I can’t keep waking up into this nightmare anymore. I can’t put into words how much the pain this has all put on me hurts. Every day I wake up and have to remember everything that’s happened. The misery descends upon me like a swarm of locusts, gnawing at every little scrap of hope and happiness I had coming out of my dreams until all I can think about for the rest of the day is how horrible everything has gone. Sorry for the edge, but I really just can’t do this anymore.
I can’t keep waking up to the realization of how worthless and disposable I am to the people I loved. I can’t keep feeling like such a disappointment to anyone who ever believed I’d be anything more than an empty shell. I can’t keep dreading every phone call from my relatives thinking someone else has died. I can’t keep being constantly anxious that the people I love most will cut me out of their lives as thoroughly as possible at any moment. I can’t keep waking up into a world where I know nothing will ever get better because everything always gets worse. I’m sorry, guys, I really am, but I just can’t do this anymore.
I’m so tired of life always getting worse. I’m tired of living with all this pain and trauma and self-hatred and regret. I’m not strong enough to carry all of this and still become a better person. I just want the hurt to finally stop. I don’t care what’s after anymore, I just can’t stand waking up every day into this nightmare. I can’t keep losing people. So all this is why I’m ending it. Maybe it’s selfish and cowardly, and maybe I am just weak, but at least I can finally be at peace from all of this pain.
I don’t say any of this for pity. Obviously it won’t help me anymore. I just want to make it as clear as possible why I’ve resorted to this. This isn’t a temporary problem for me. My life is nothing but neverending depression from constantly having to go through all of this. I’ve waited for things to turn around. I’ve done my best to try to improve. I’ve tried all that I could to escape this fate. I’ve been planning this for the last month once I realized I’d never escape this cycle of death, abandonment, and isolation. It’s over and I give up. I just say this in the hope that you all understand why I couldn’t stand living any longer.
One Last Emotional Vomit:
I kind of always knew it would come to this. After being abandoned by the people I loved the most four times in a row, the death of five loved ones (yeah I’m counting the dogs, whatever) and the wasted time being completely isolated and alone, there was no chance of recovery. Seven out of eight of these events happened within the last two years. I knew things would never get better when I was 21, but I made a deal with myself that I’d wait until I was 25 to pull the trigger. That’s only seven months away, and there’s no chance things will improve in that time frame, so I’m just doing it now and saving myself even more agony.
I’ve never been good at letting people go and moving on, from the dead or old friends. I honestly don’t understand how anyone else can. All these wonderful relationships I’ve fostered and lost throughout the years just took too much. Every time I’d grow close to another soul, I’d give a piece of myself to them. We connected and I put my love and trust with them, and when they left they took it with them. All I have now is this vast void filled with hurt. Self-hatred, regret, misery, anger, and an intense sadness are all I can feel anymore. At least I can be at peace from all of it, if nothing else.
I know the people I loved who blocked me no longer care or aren’t alive anymore. Me being gone is probably a relief for them to be honest. If for whatever reason they actually do end up reading this, I just want to say I’m sorry for not being better. I tried so hard to be a good friend and improve myself so people wouldn’t want to abandon me, but I know I failed in that too. Nothing I say will change anything now, but I just want everyone to know that I hope your life ends up better than mine did. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.
Thanks:
Anyway, to all of my old friends: thank you for making my life just a little brighter while I was still here. I know I wasn’t the easiest person to be around at times, and I’ve certainly done my fair share of pissing people off and driving them away, but despite my constant miserable attitude and occasionally condescending mannerisms, you guys meant the world to me and I’ve never forgotten any of you. I know some of you have forgotten me, or at least wanted to get as far away as possible. I know I was never good enough and it just led to me being a failure in everything I’ve ever tried to do. I tried to improve as much as I could despite my depression, but it was never really enough. Again, I’m sorry. I wish I was better. I wish I wasn’t so depressed and annoying to be around. Anyway, I just want all of you to live the best lives you can. G, Liger, Mini, Undead, Quills, Scampy, Seventeen, Tri, thank you guys for being my friends. Even if some of us have gone our separate ways, I’m thankful for the good times we had together.
I know I made connections with a lot more people than that, and if I didn’t mention you, I’m sorry. I know how awful it felt to not even be worth a final text when my best friend killed himself, and I don’t mean to do that to any of you guys. To all my friends and followers: thanks for all these years we’ve spent together. I can assure you that wanting to die had nothing to do with any of you, I just wanted to be rid of this unending misery once and for all.
Last of My Writing:
I know not many of you care anymore; any following I had was made up mostly of dead accounts, and I never really worked hard enough to foster a real community during the decline of the fandom. I’m sure at this point a good chunk of the people reading this are glad I’m gone. I know I made a lot of enemies being the way I was, and I guess some of you will be happy to know that I won’t be around any longer. I just thought I’d say goodbye before I killed myself. Maybe give out some thanks to the people who made my life a little brighter and apologize to anyone I ever hurt. I’m also going to drop some of my dead projects and ideas people might have been looking forward to. I didn’t leave much of a legacy, but I’ll put it all up anyway just in case it might be of some use to someone out there.
As a thank you for being a joy for me in this otherwise awful world, I want to give you guys something: it’s my pastebin filled with a lot of my unpublished fics and ideas and outlines for the stories I’ve had. I’m just going to go through and put everything with any decent length on my laptop out there. Not going to do much good once I’m dead, is it? Maybe someone will find some joy in it. There's quite a bit lying around that isn't really worthy to post, but I'll leave that to whoever finds my laptop after I'm dead.
https://pastebin.com/u/HolytntDiver
As for “Some Mistakes Are Forever”, I think it’s more appropriate to leave it unfinished now. I obviously can’t stand behind the message anymore. I guess if we’re projecting, you can assume Sunset lost all of her friends and ended up killing herself too. I never wanted to give her the horrible ending I always knew I’d have, but in this case there isn’t much point any longer. I wrote this story to try to work through my best friend’s suicide, but the truth is there was never any resolving this, at least not for me. I was always going to end up alone and unwanted and would end up following him anyway. Sorry for those of you hoping for a satisfying end there.
Last Words:
Now that that’s done, I guess this is it. Really melodramatic death, but hey, it’s my suicide note right? I’ll be dramatic one last time and no one ever has to worry about it again. I don’t really have any important knowledge to impart on any of you. I was never really good or successful at anything, so honestly there’s not much to learn from my life. Hell, my impact on this world has been nothing but a bunch of pony porn fics, and not even anything good either. I tried so hard to write something that’d finally be worthy of posting to EQD or something that would get the respect of the RCL, but even after five years of trying I was never a good enough writer. Granted I didn't manage to write as much as I should have. None of my stories I did get out will be remembered in the context of the fandom or even with Sunset Shimmer fanfics. Nobody ever really recommends me as a writer like they do the other Sunset writers and that’s no one’s fault but my own. Even in the one thing I cared about most in the world, I’ll never have even really left a mark. I’ll be quickly forgotten like every other random dude who killed himself. No one will care besides posting the suicide hotline number as some sort of empty gesture after the fact. I know that for certain after I watched everyone forget and move on after another suicide. I suppose I was never important enough to warrant it, anyway. I haven’t really done anything impressive or made any massive impact on anyone’s lives. I was disposable to just about everyone. Easily replaceable. I didn’t matter enough to keep around once a better option showed up. I guess in the end that means me dying won’t have much of an impact at all besides some family. I suppose that’s a good thing, really. In a few months time all I'll be is just another number to add to the statistic. I know everyone will move on and forget. I suppose it's comforting to know I've gotten to the point where I'll be causing as little harm as possible with my suicide. Maybe by being so hard to be around that was my end goal all along. I don't know. I think I've whined enough for one lifetime about all of this anyway.
I guess if I could leave you with anything, it’d be to just be nicer to each other. The world is such a cruel, awful place, and we can all do better than to constantly try to one-up each other over to stroke our own egos. I see so much fighting and hatred thrown around over such trivial matters that it always made me sick. Everyone has feelings and hopes and dreams and aspirations--crushing them just to feel better about yourself is such an awful thing to do, not just for them, but for the value they could’ve brought to the world had someone just supported them. If someone really matters to them, make sure that they know and be interested in who they are and what they do. They’ll usually do the same for you. I know I might’ve been in a different place if I’d had something like that. Just remember that whoever you’re talking to is a person too, with their own story and life and troubles you’ll never know the full extent of unless you ask. We can all do better than to try to hurt each other. The world will only become a better place with kindness and understanding, not more hate and cruelty. More importantly than anything, just remember the person you might be interacting with could be a potential friend too. At the end of my life, all that really matters to me anymore are the wonderful memories I made with all the great friends I’ve had throughout the years. And please, don’t block your friends if there's any other way. Please just give people a second chance when they mess up. At the very least, tell them what they did wrong before you resort to something like that. Everyone deserves a chance to improve themselves before the worst happens. I just wish I’d been given that chance to keep those meaningful connections alive. Maybe I would’ve failed anyway, but if Sunset has taught us anything, it’s that even our worst mistakes can be made up for, right? I know I got myself into all the situations that happened to me and I know their lives are probably better without me in it, but those connections are the one thing I really miss at the end of my life. I just wish things had been different. Maybe going forward you guys can take something from this. Maybe not. Obviously the past can't be undone and I know I can never make amends now, but I’ll at least die with the happy memories we made. I hope at the very least those of you reading have a few happy memories with me too.
Not that it really matters now, but if you ever actually want to help someone who’s depressed, don’t just say “I’m here if you want to talk” or “PM me if you’re feeling like this” or post the suicide hotline number. Actually take the initiative and try to talk to them yourself. They don’t feel like they’re worth it, and it’s up to you to prove them wrong if you actually care. If you’re worried about your friend make sure you’re an active part of their life and tell them as much as you can that they matter to you and ask them questions about what’s hurting and how you can help. If they don’t know, just being there talking to them a few times a week is better than any empty offer of support could be. Though, I may be overestimating how much anyone actually cares about depressed people. If all this isn’t something you want to do, I guess it’s better to just let the reality that no one gives a shit about them sink in and leave them to their fate. I’ll see them on the other side.
Anyway, just please, don’t take your friends and loved ones for granted, not even the potential ones. The people close to you will end up being the only thing that mattered at the end of everything. I wish so much that I’d done more to make new ones and hold on to the connections I had, but it’s too late now. Just talk to each other about things before they escalate and please just do your best to understand the value people can bring to your lives if you could just give them the chance. The power of friendship, right? It’s the only thing that really matters in the end.
Anyway, I hope you guys have better lives than I did. I hope you all find loving people to fill your life with and that tragedy doesn’t find its way into any of your days and constantly throw you down into that pit of hurt and sadness like it did for me. If nothing else, I hope you guys find some peace from the everlasting misery that life ends up being. I'm going to go watch one last Sunset somewhere quiet, and then I'll be gone by tonight.
Thank you all for reading.
Goodbye.