ironbite: (Sweetness)
[personal profile] ironbite
Posting here.

Yeah been a loooooooooooooooooong time. Why? Because I have other outlets. But today I realized a very important fact about myself.

I don't matter.

And before you go, "oh that's not true Ironbite," when was the last time anyone actually talked to me? I mean really talked to me. The answer, painful as it is to admit, is ages. Nobody talks to me. Nobody tries to see what's behind the mask I present to the world. Nobody goes "So how was your day" outside of my parents. Why?

Because I don't matter.

I'm a support network for other people. An ear to listen to other people's problems. A mouth to say things to make sure other people feel better. But the second I try to utter a peep that things aren't ok with myself? I get nothing. Why?

Because I don't matter at all.

I really don't. I tried, I really did try, to get somebody to notice that I wasn't ok on twitter this morning. Of the 100-odd real people who follow me...2 people said something in response. And it wasn't, "are you ok man?" or anything. Just platitudes. And I've found myself locked in my own head wondering why. I can only come to one conclusion.

I don't matter.

Why don't I matter? Why is it that every time I try to figure out if I'm worth keeping around I always come to the same god damn conclusion? Why is it that I can't ever get anyone to notice that hey, something might be wrong with my brain? Am I depressed? Do I, like millions of other people suffer from depression? Probably. But I've been handling myself so well since the big break up. But have I? I ask myself that a lot. And then I try to reach out to other people and I see...nothing. Why is that?

Because I don't matter.

Nothing I can do can matter because I don't matter. I'm nothing. Not even a reflection anymore. Just something that throttles down misery and loneliness into a compact little ball until....this happens. I just want to matter to somebody. I really do. Is that something that I just can't be? Can I matter to someone? I don't think so. I really don't. I'm going to predict this gets nothing, absolutely nothing because that's how it is. I don't matter. I really don't. The only one I matter to is my cat and even then I'm easily replaced in her mind. I just want someone to hear me for once in my life. But I know nobody else will hear me. Because I don't matter. And nothing's going to change that fact. Not the most helpful doctors, not the latest meds, nothing. I don't matter and why I die, I'll be alone. Unmourned by everyone save family.

Because I don't...matter.

Date: 2013-06-10 11:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] poptartodoom.livejournal.com
You matter to me. If it wasn't for you hunting down someone with my phone number, I would've probably killed myself a few weeks back. I'm so sorry I didn't say thank you at the time. But thank you, so much. You gave me hope that *I* mattered, so I can only hope that telling you how much you matter to me can give you the same hope.

*HUGS*

Date: 2013-06-11 12:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doom-magic.livejournal.com
...Sweetie, did something trigger all this? ): Yes, I'm sure you've been thinking it for a while, just like I'm prone to doing constantly with myself, but when I actually decide to put it all out in a post, something's usually caused it.

And I know I don't really ever say to much on here or on Facebook for that matter, and have turned into something of an eternal lurker, but I do read every single post you make on Facebook just to keep up with what you're up to lately. So if you're thinking you don't matter, you sorely mistaken. In fact, when I do actually speak up in talking to you, I have even asked several time when is the next time I might actually get to see your face again, because I honestly do really miss you and would love to have you drop by for a visit.

I'm not really too good at playing the part of giving answers for things that I myself don't even have answers to, but if you ever just want someone to listen to you, I am here. I'm sorry that I couldn't have been one of the ones on Twitter to replay to keep you from doubting things like this (even though I've got an account, I pretty much never use Twitter other than to sign up for freebie shit), but please stop thinking you don't matter. If to no one else, you at least matter to me. You're pretty much my oldest friend that I first met online, and considering how few friends have actually stuck with me through the years, that makes you one of my oldest friends as a whole. I'll never stop thinking that you're important to me.

This reply looks completely jumbled. Sorry. I probably suck at trying to get my points across. :\

Date: 2013-06-11 04:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] newsy891.livejournal.com
Anything encouraging I'd have to say would sound like the platitudes that (trust me, I know) are hurtful to anyone who's hurting. But I'll try anyway.

I've been there. I was there on April 19, 2003. For some reason, I woke up on April 20, 2003. I don't know that the climb back from there ever really stops, but I will tell you that, now that I'm 10 years older than I intended to be on the night of April 19, 2003, I've learned a couple of things to help me keep climbing and to get up when I fall back down into that dangerous pit...

I've learned that the one who gets to decide what my identity is, is me - not the people around me who only want a referee or a cheerleader.

I've learned that, yes, referee and cheerleader are valid parts of my identity, but they only have to take center stage when I feel up to playing those roles.

I've learned that there are people - not many, but quantity doesn't matter - who treasure the writer and the singer/actress and the basket case and the geek every bit as much as they treasure the referee and the cheerleader.

I've learned that it sucks and hurts, massively, when I find out that someone only treasures what I can do for them, or "loves me but," or wants me around on the condition that I be exactly as they want me to be... and that I can survive, sometimes only just barely but I can survive, the hurt.

And possibly most relevantly to you, I've learned that no one is easily replaced in the mind of a cat. Birdie would be taken care of by others (who were probably way, way, way better at being cat-taker-carers than I ever was) for weeks at a time when I'd skip off to a convention or run away to Australia, and when I got home, I was still her human. No one ever replaced me in her mind, no matter how many opportunities came up for that exact thing to happen. When a cat decides you're trustworthy, you are in a very special club indeed.

Date: 2013-06-11 04:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] uguardian.livejournal.com
Don't let the internet fool you: You do matter.

Of the 100-odd real people who follow me...2 people said something in response.

To be very blunt here, there's a trend on the internet for people to like/reblog/comment by the hundreds on silly or unimportant things, but leave no feedback at all to a serious post. Don't consider this to mean you don't matter -- it's just how people do things online.

Date: 2013-06-11 07:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] knave-iespyk.livejournal.com
I'm not going to sit here and pretend we're the best of friends, that would be lying to both of us, but I do value the time we have spent. Occasionally I'll think of my days at the Padded Cell, all the good times I had there, at my Cell Fics and the Cell Con and you're a significant part of those experiences. So, I guess you do matter.

Date: 2013-06-12 06:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] oasis-pink-peng.livejournal.com
Nurturing other people is thankless work because people don't realize what you've done until it's gone or until they have to do it themselves.

You do matter. *hug*
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