Worries of a twenty something

I spent about two days in bed hating myself.

Why don't I simply do the things that I know will make me feel better?
It isn't rocket science. It isn't that difficult. Get out of bed. Eat. See people. Talk to people. Exercise. Write. Read. 

If you want to do something with your life, well ok just go ahead and do something.
Ugh it's too much work and I don't even know where to start. I don't know how to do anything and it'll never work. I'll be judged. I can't do it. I can't do it alone. I don't know anybody It will be a complete utter disaster and no one will care about it and of course the point of doing everything is to get attention and praise from other people. Yeah I need to get the most followers and the most views. And by doing that I have to promote myself and become a phony and pander like hell. Good job you're really following all the ideals you hold so dearly.  

Good job you stopped yourself from even starting. You're so lazy you'll never accomplish anything.
If you weren't so lazy you'd probably wouldn't have dragged out this depression for so long. God why do you give up so easily. You make it like a snap decision. Why do you have no commitment and diligence? You're so freakin lazy. You're a phony. You want to cruise by and fool everyone into thinking you're smart but really you did the least amount of work and pretended you worked really hard and you deserve this mark. If there's an easy way you will manipulate people into getting it. And then feel guilty afterwards because oh, you didn't live up to your morals and ideals

Why are you such a snob and so picky about everything. Unless there's a guaranteed 100% success you don't think it's worth doing. Wow you're arrogant. You think you deserve nothing but the best. You look down on other people. 

You know what fashion has done to you? It's made you into a total snob and wanting nothing but the most expensive and best stuff out there? You want to be the best. The one with the best clothes, the best outfits, the best the best the best
You can't be the best. You're just a nobody, part of the crowd. You are not particularly smarter than anyone else. You dont' create anything. You dont' contribute. You just stay at home and observe. 

You like to think you're better than everyone else, that you're not oh ONE OF THEM, the common folk, the phillistines but in reality you are nto that special. The only thing that does make you different is that you're a complete utter failure and have depression so la dee da that makes you special. Why aren't so proud of that? 

Oh it's special because people can pity you and you can manipulate them with their pity and use them to just weedle out more time. But you dont' do anything.

God I hate you so much.


Emma said...

You REALLY need to speak to someone in real life about what you're going through.

You could try to get through this on your own, and let it run its course and take a while but solve things by yourself. Or you could get someone to help you, someone to force you out of your room, which would solve things in less time. Talking to someone would only jumpstart the solution and save you time.

But seriously, I think your inner dialogue is what any self-aware and intelligent woman thinks through at least once a week. You, like me, sound like a secret perfectionist. You aren't an overachiever but you set standards for yourself that are just as high. You need to identify those thought patterns and analyze whether they are helping you or just slowing you down. If they cause depression and low self-esteem like this, they are slowing you down.

Contact me through tumblr if you feel like talking (or whining, or whatever).

Jeff said...


This will seem stupid to many people, because I am writing to a dead person.

I don't know you and we have never met or even knew of each other's existence until your tragic fate. When I first heard of the news and saw your picture. I don't know why, but I felt torn and drawn to you. I became obsessed in finding news articles about the case. I tried but could not let it go. I became obsessed in finding more about you.

Now, after reading your tumblrs, tweets, and this blog. I am at a loss for words because I feel like I am literally staring at a mirror of myself. Your words are the very words I've spoken (and typed) in my life. Your questions are ones I've asked myself so many times. Your fears, regrets, and even the joys and cheers. I understand the cause of your depression, as it is for me... the unfulfillment of two greatest desires: to be loved, to be understood.

You are a perfectionist, and you are looking for perfect love. And so much that to the world you seem odd and out of place, this leaves you feeling like nobody understands you. At times you want to be like everyone else, but inside you know you cannot be contrary to yourself. You wonder often, why is it so easy for everyone else, why is it so hard for you.

I hope in death you will still be able to read this letter. Because at the very least, you would know... someone does understand. But even in death, you have helped others. Because knowing you, now I know... someone understands me. My whole life, I've asked that question too... if only... if only someone understands me. Understands what I am going through. The irony of life that I finally found someone who does, and she is gone.

My only regret is... not finding you sooner.


God bless you. Good journey...

Human said...

Hey Jeff,
No it is not silly writing to a dead person as Elisa's thoughts lives on in the lives of many, yours and myself's included. Like you, her tragic death has drawn me into knowing more about her background. One question that stood out to me the most was: Why did she go to LA, and to a ghetto area of all places, by herself? Upon reading her backstory on her blog posts, I quickly found out why. I also found out she was not taking many classes as she was completely lost about what she wanted to do with her life. I am going through the exact same episode in my life except I am still taking classes but that only gives me a false sense of security. Without school, I really do not know where I belong.

While I regret not finding her sooner, at the very least, I know that there are probably more people like her, albeit a small percentage. Sadly, it seems like the misunderstood ones dwell almost exclusively on the Internet. It's like how Elisa mentioned that tumblr is the only place where she can find people who "get it" vs. real life where you have to weed out an army of masks. From my experiences, I've tried meeting many people through volunteer work but I always end up leaving as an empty shell. Are you currently a student by any chance?

Csgeek said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

Reading through the blog also. I have to study/revise three years of course work for exams next week, but cannot stop trying to find out more. To be honest, I don't know if you would have been my friend in real life, I don't think I had your artistic appreciation of life and that probably would have frustrated you :) Either way, I am sorry that our paths did not cross earlier. You seem like such an amazing spirit. I will not forget your story. I promise x

chchlc2222 chchlc2222 said...

Hope you are doing better now. Life is eternal. Rest.

良风有幸 said...


Anonymous said...

Rest well ❤❤

Danielmac said...

It is so eerie reading your blog Elisa. Your story is one of immense sorrow, mystery and conjecture. By reading your blog, it is clear how much pain you were dealing with during your ongoing struggle. Your writing is both poignant and candid and your honesty and transparency provides a touching look at what people living with depression, bi-polar and other mental illness' go through. Your story (post death) intrigued me and I was drawn to your tragic story. I hope that post tragedy, you found your peace :)
Rest well. Daniel