At around the age of 16, I started getting really depressed, cause All my mates kept going on an on about how they were getting laid, and since most chicks viewed me as the nice guy, I really had no chance. I became increasingly depressed, and tried finding outlets for this self hate. I considered self harm, but knowing way too many people who do it, i decided not to. I instead started punching walls, and developed insanely hard knuckles. my hand still clicks today when making a fist.
I also started writing in a journal-type thing, as i viewed myself as the only person i could talk to. I would spend hours writing in this thing, which I still have, and occasionally read. I began to manifest my anger and hate in the form of JTHM style drawings and comics, which mimicked his style pretty well, honestly. I was voted most likely to turn serial killer by the people i lived with (i lived in a boarding hostel.) and increasingly began playing with knives. Eventually I realized that suicide as pointless, as time would eventually kill me and end my pain, (which is a view i still hold today).
In a tragic turn of events, I managed to get myself a girlfriend. She had had a worse childhood than most of you could care to believe, and my "wounded bird" syndrome (i.e. Wanting to try and fix people) played a better part in my choice to go out with this chick. I only became happier, as i was too busy caring for this chick. She continually tried to kill herself, and every time i saw her, she had a new cut in her arm. Eventually, it became too taxing on me, and I broke up with her. By this time, I had really gotten over the whole emotional thing. I stopped writing in the journal as i no longer needed too. I stopped drawing as my pain no longer needed an outlet.
And then university hit. Fuck.
:emo:
I also started writing in a journal-type thing, as i viewed myself as the only person i could talk to. I would spend hours writing in this thing, which I still have, and occasionally read. I began to manifest my anger and hate in the form of JTHM style drawings and comics, which mimicked his style pretty well, honestly. I was voted most likely to turn serial killer by the people i lived with (i lived in a boarding hostel.) and increasingly began playing with knives. Eventually I realized that suicide as pointless, as time would eventually kill me and end my pain, (which is a view i still hold today).
In a tragic turn of events, I managed to get myself a girlfriend. She had had a worse childhood than most of you could care to believe, and my "wounded bird" syndrome (i.e. Wanting to try and fix people) played a better part in my choice to go out with this chick. I only became happier, as i was too busy caring for this chick. She continually tried to kill herself, and every time i saw her, she had a new cut in her arm. Eventually, it became too taxing on me, and I broke up with her. By this time, I had really gotten over the whole emotional thing. I stopped writing in the journal as i no longer needed too. I stopped drawing as my pain no longer needed an outlet.
And then university hit. Fuck.
:emo:
