Behind the monitor's screen (2016)- full story

The story is not suitable for younger than 14 years, a slightly more depressing topic and personal perspective. This is a good introduction to the next story that is much more morbid and depressing. I thought not to post it, but it might be interesting to someone as it is.
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03/10/2016

 The sun is stronger today than yesterday ... July almost passed and August is approaching, but it's still hot. I'm sitting under the tree, with  phone in my hands, drinking a glass of water to refresh. I finally made my email address and now I can log on to the site I've been lurking for a months ... Well, I'm starting.

 Username ... Hm ... Blue -something. Blue dragon. Uh, how did this come to my mind? Doesn't matter, sounds nice, I'll do something with that.

 But, these other names are strange to me ... what was I expecting, anyway, I am on the depression forum, there are no butterflies and colorful flowers, unless these butterflies are not dead or with ripped wings.

 Well, here's the first topic. Just slowly, breathe. Do not rush.

 "Hello to everyone. I won't reveal my real name for privacy, and it doesn't matter. This is the second year since I have worse symptoms of depression, I thought it would be easier if I joined the forum. Early this year my diet changed completely, I lost almost half of my weight. Recently, I lost control of myself, so it all went in the other direction- I gained weight because of overeating. Everything makes me even more sad, I hope this will help me forget the reality. "

 Well, it was not terrible. Here, they already wish me a welcome. At least here I am accepted.

 The next day, I searched the forum to see the topics from before. There were many different people on the forum... from "I want to recover", "I don't care if this continues," "I'm doing this for attention" to "I want to die already." I was encouraged to share my thoughts as never in my life; I would be silent all the time about what I think and feel, everything seems so simple now - I just had to type it. At the same time, I was aware that the whole world could see my comments .

Little by little, I became one of them - I spent hours on the forum posting comments and reading topics, taking care not to insult or hurt anyone. The number of my posts grew faster and faster ...

 The day started normal for me: breakfast, taking a phone and going to the site, however, already at the entrance to one of the subforums was the topic "Goodbye." We knew that such topics could mean either that a person goes for treatment or ... that she decided to take her life. Unfortunately, this was not unusual for this site, but sometimes a person would give up her intention. Even I  wrote depressing comments when my depression deteriorated, it was easier to tell strangers who go through similar experiences rather than listening to the 'cleverness' of people who obviously don't understand how depression really looks like.

 Anyway, I opened the topic. Damn it, a person is planning a suicide.

 "Thank you for your support. I decided to stop with this, I can't endure this anymore. Goodbye."
Of course, below that bunch of posts: "Don't do it!" "Life is worth it", to "Is she okay?" "I hope she is fine, she didn't come to the site for hours." and possibly, if they come to that information, "Rest in peace." As much as it is morbid, it happened in reality. Feeling that someone who really exist shares last thoughts with you, with the whole world, and you know you can't help her because you don't even know where that person is! You feel like watching a car accident knowing that you can't do anything to save people from wrecks.

 On the other side of the forum people describe their suffering, but they know that they can't give up, mostly for some reason. They spend  days at the forum, try to get away from their reality by drowning themselves in a look-alike internet pages that gives them a false sanctuary. The most visited is a subforum that serves as a "ventilate" for all, mostly negative emotions. It is also the most aggressive forum, because there are often quarrels between members. The first few forums are the most active- my favorite was a forum for various games members have posted, which would help me to shift my thoughts from everyday life. Besides it, I also love a forum of media and art, which includes a music forum, where I post comments about my greatest passion. I know that I will not die in silence, in my heart there is always music . Beautiful notes that connect in the perfect symphony, the magical spell that drives me through this darkness. It must be magic, because everything else looks so black.

 Perhaps at this very moment some person, anywhere in the world, dies of starvation, self-injury or suicide, and we are not able to save her. Sometimes,actually often, the person shows signs of hopelessness in which she is.

 I asked myself many times: what is keeping us away from asking for help? Is it that we are not aware of our problem? People think that we know what we are doing and that we are aware of our actions, that we can control our emotions and return to normal when we wish. They are convinced that comments like "Cheer up", "Calm down", "Eat Something", "Don't eat so much" "Find Friends" ... help a person with a mental disorder. Tell a person with a binge eating disorder to stop eating sounds logical, right? Of course ... if we forget the fact that the person is powerless and can't control his hunger and that food becomes like a drug. Why write this? Because the binge eating disorder is not taken seriously though it's as dangerous as anorexia. I had the opportunity to hear "Reduce meals" and "You lost too much weight" in my life, but also "Find friends". There was no judging in the forum-I was witty at odd the way, dark as the core of my soul, gave support and was honest. It was me, just with a nickname and a picture taken from the Internet. I'm free here. And if they would judge me, I will never know.

 In addition to the depression forum, I am often on the forum for anxiety. One of the most difficult things in a panic attack is that it comes unannounced. In my case, it happens when I remember some of the past events, when I need to communicate with people or simply when paranoia gets me. It's possible to hide the avalanche of emotions that overwhelm me at that moment, but only for a short, I need a "vent" otherwise the attack will remain for a few hours. I related to most of topics about borderline disorder too, I wanted to find out more about it and realized that the combination of depression, anxiety, anger and a mild euphoria with an unusual mental complex might have described BPD ( a borderline disorder) more than some other disorder but, again, depression and anxiety can also be combined and without it. My own psyche fascinates me and confuses me, in the brain I mostly have a void, yet I'm still sensitive. When someone wants to recover, then it's important that he knows what he is, but I'm just looking at what's happening in the end and what is common to most people with depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, BPD, bipolar disorder ... In the end, it doesn't matter anyway, no one asks under ground about how you got there or whether you were ill of something, it's only important that you are here.

 I'm so paranoid that I thought that everyone in the forum hated me and ignored my comments even though I didn't have major problems, except for the problems in communication because of the weaker language skills. Even if that happened I would fully understand why-my sense of humor is horrible I bother many people with my opinion, which, even when it makes sense, can't be said in the right way because of my poor social skills. Damn it, how much of my testimony is ruined! I start talking as a real thinker or artist, make people around me interested and ... The tongue gets tied and my thoughts escape or I get confused. Mind begins to panically repair a broken sentence as the gaze fights with people who are already suspiciously staring at me. In the best case, I can finish the thought, but not the way it should have been, I change the subject or, in the worst case, such a panic catch me so I shut up and wait for someone else to say something. At the forum the main problem was the language; I couldn't say sentence how I wanted as long as I have not improved my English skills. I can express myself the best in stories because no one can interrupt me- I have a handful of time to think about what I want to be written, but it's mostly a matter of moment. That's not the case with this story , I've been massacring it for nearly three weeks.

 After almost a year, I became the person with the most comments on the forum. It was not an ordinary website, it was more like a virtual city whose population is constantly growing, and I am a member since the first year of its existence. I would post 60 comments daily, sometimes up to a hundred, and that always had to be a rounded number. I was obsessed with the fact that a bigger number would bring me something better ... It wasn't so. It seems to me that I really didn't exist in that city, that I was like some foreign who comes and sees old acquaintances who quite normally react to his departure and arrival. For a while, nothing sounded serious enough, no matter how horribly I felt when I wrote it. I tried not get someone's pity, I prefer to shock rather than to attract the attention of someone who would sympathize me, because I had people around me who banalized serious things for a minute of attention. Pity is a terrible thing- when you get used to it, you do everything to get more pity, and in the end it's all that's left- you live to be zero in someone's eyes, no matter that you are worth more than that. I grew up with that attitude and suffered criticism when I tried to change something, knowing that I would welcome the day when they will say "You were right." That day came - many such days were coming because nobody wanted to listen to me from the beginning. I'm not a supernatural person, I just see the world in black and white; on one side are positive things, positive realistic expectations and directions in which the situation should go in order to make everything turn out right. In the case of a person, I analyze its virtues and positive sides. On the other hand, there are negative things, the worst possible scenario and how avoiding this worst case scenario, while in the case of people there is an analysis of bad qualities. This view of the situation, from both perspectives, has helped me a lot in my life and saved me on several occasions.

 Everything I said on the site I thought at that moment, something happened in a burst of anger, an anxiety attack, a sudden euphoria or a deep depression. I don't know how many people were hurt by something I said, but I know that I didn't want to hurt anyone. I often changed comments because I didn't consider them appropriate or I simply came to delete them off when I was disappointed.

 When asked "How would you describe yourself?" I would never have an answer. When I delete the symptoms of depression and anxiety, with everything they include, I realize that I don't exist. I AM EVERYTHING, I'M NOTHING. Eventually I get word "artist" as the last option that has nothing to do with it, unless being left-handed is a disorder (no, really, why people write mainly with right hand, would it not be logical for both hands to be equally represented? How is it that there are far less left-handed? O_O).

 I'm not sure what I actually am : everything that I was crashed in the meantime-some things have gone away and some, like negative emotions, have spread through the whole body. What I would say about myself differs from what others would say about me, even on the site they think I'm a nice person, sometimes witty (but probably mostly boring, haha). I am nice because I am scared of people and their reactions, witty because on this way I can at least escape from reality for a moment, and boring ... you can't expect a depressed person to entertain you non-stop, sometimes I don't feel like it. For each of my qualities I have an explanation. When I say that I'm sometimes cruel, people don't believe me. Honestly, in some moments even I doubt everything I say about myself, both on the internet and in reality, because at the next moment it all seems to me to be incorrect! I doubt even that I am an artist, that I am good in what I do, I also doubt whether I should be on the site or not.

 After thirty thousand of my irrelevant statements, I withdrew. It was pointless to continue with something that has lost meaning, so I left a comment that I was leaving and gone for several months, trying to stay away from that site. In those few months I realized many things: I spent two years in a virtual world, with people who have understood me better than anyone in my life and for those two years I have kept my tendencies under control. I'm not sure how good it is, since I'm still at the bottom, but death will not escape anywhere anyway.

 I return back from time to time there, just to see what's going on. I can't believe I spent every day on that site, although I miss that feeling of belonging. I figured I didn't belong there - I feel too worthless for them. I belong nowhere, except my belonging to the darkness. Even it seems too good. Everything is too good for my worthless soul.

 I know I'm not the only one, persons like me still go there. There's a lot of controversy about this site, although there's a dark reality below the shocking surface. Yes... most of posts represent a creepy reality with which thousands of people fight every day. Most members also want to make it clear that this is not a joke and that they would not want anyone to go through it, regardless of the fact that new members come in searching for "tips." These are mainly young people, mostly girls, who are not even aware of the danger that the using of self-destructive methods can leave on them.

 Honestly, I have no freaken idea why I wrote this story, I didn't even plan to turn it into this direction. I wanted to write a horror and in the end it was a psychological horror, because many people are experiencing horror behind the screen of the monitor every day, all of that happens to real people ... Maybe some of these people are right now leaving this dark world ...

              The end
          04/03/2016 Sunday
       Suzana Ristić Suza