I won’t share my personal drama, since I’m sure most of you have enough with your own shit and I find it pointless to vomit a self-indulgent wall of text which screams “my life is shittier than yours”. I simply want to share this suicide-related issue and see if any of you are going through similar stuff and how you’ve dealt with it. Please refrain from posting “at least you have friends”-style crap.
I’ve already planned my suicide, even saved money for all the stuff that is required when someone dies (funeral and that stuff), and I’m always writting suicide notes telling everyone that this is noone’s fault but my own, but I never seem to be able to consume the act. Especially because I do care a lot about some people and I could never hurt them. I’m sick of that. I know it’s kind of irrational, since once I’m dead I won’t give a flying fuck about all the people I may have hurted, but even knowing that, I simply can’t.
Why do I care? Empathy, I guess; I’ve seen the pain that death causes and I don’t want anyone to feel that because of me. One of my ex girlfriends did commit suicide like a decade ago or so and it certainly shapped my life. I’m not blaming her, but it’d be stupid to deny that it totally changed me. My last ex was/is also pretty suicidal and… well, I felt like shit everytime she hurted herself and ended up in the hospital or the psychiatric institution. An uncle passed away a few months ago and I attended the funeral. All the pain and tears… unbearable. I don’t want to make anyone suffer with my death, and it’s not like I can simply push everyone away; some won’t let me, like my parents and those few ones who I like to call “friends”.
I’m tired of that. “Just let me die”. They’ll never listen and I’ll never be able to do it while they’re around; I can’t help it. I just want to disappear and for noone to notice it or remember me, like I never existed at all.
Most of the people around me have no idea of my intentions. A couple of friends are aware that I’m in pain, but I’ve never let them see the whole thing; I like to minimize it, tell them that it’s just one of those days and that they should ignore my idiotic drama. I like it that way, I don’t want them to be worried about me, but sometimes it’s too much and I’d love to scream and let them see all of this, but I always control myself and suffer in silence.
I’m 27 today. It’s my birthday. I never planned to reach this far. It’s getting heavier everyday.
I hope your lives get better or that you eventually manage to leave this meaningless, ugly world without much trouble. Or at least to distract you a bit with my nonsense.