Hey guys,
Well before i start you can probably already see this going to be a bit long… I don’t really have anyone to talk to so I’ma just spill my guts on this page. I’m going to change all the names except own, as not to cause arguments with the people involved if they are to ever stumble across this. I’ll start from the beginning so you can understand how and why I’m here… Although about 60% of this is past tense, last night i tried to kill myself again… i couldn’t do it >.<
First of all I’m 17 & Male, My name is Kevern and i guess this is my story…
About 8 or so months i started dating a girl called Mellisa & she was awesome, everything i had ever dreamed of (I know this is sounding gay but bare with me). She was intelligent, Caring, Loving, Beautiful and otherwise just my dream girl. She has changed my life in more ways than she will ever know… but this isn’t where my story begins…
It all starts with my god forsaken mother, she had blamed me (and still does) for the way her life has turned out. She fell pregnant to my father, they got married and the rest is history. She hates me and blames everything on me. She used to beat me up a lot, she would corner me in my bedroom and beat the shit out of me with my fathers belt while he was at work. When i was 13-14 she tried to kill me with a kitchen knife; I ran and eventually she got tired and threw it at my head, i ducked and it landed point first into the door right behind me, if i didn’t move I’d be pretty dead at the moment.
Until recently I’ve been afraid to tell anyone about my mother, mainly because i feel no one will believe me as to everyone else, she acts much differently… I still don’t talk about this to people who know her, because i Know they wont believe me 🙁
Growing up i had always been beaten up and teased in school. My hands are normal but the skin is.. like they’re the hands of an 80 year old, I’m weird, Socially awkward…. I have long hair and love Metal, with an extremly high IQ i see things most don’t and look at things differently. All these points have assured my life in school a living hell. The girls laughed at me and the guys punched me whenever they could. I was at the a butt of every joke and my nick name in high school was “Sir. Penis Wrinkle”. They assumed my penis must look my hands and so i had been dubbed that. Growing up like this I learned not to show any emotion and block people out. So they couldn’t abuse me emotionally and i could care less about what they had to say about me, this only made things worse really…
I was kicked out of highschool because i started acting out – Set the toilets on fire, made explosives in chemistry class, I would smoke cigarettes in class and all the rest of it. When i look back on it i guess i just wanted some attention that didn’t lead to me getting my ass kicked, though this inevitably did. My father was very disappointed in me as he believed i had the potential for so much more… The constant pressure of people expecting me to use my intelligence didn’t help at all.
After i dropped out i got into a computers, my father is a computer programmer so we were never short of computers around the house. I needed something to challenge me and take my mind off life. The logical and lateral aspects of computer programming have done just that. Now as it stands, i can’t stand to look at source code because of the memories & feelings attached to it. This is unfortunate because i have no other skills to play on. Coding is all i really know how to do and god damn it, i don’t want to do it! I am the harbinger of my doom for as far as that goes though.
I guess i should get back to that girl now… *sigh*… Well she’s one of those girls that every guy wants, but can never get… I met her when i was 12, I can’t remember how she got my email address but ‘eh, she did. Then one day about a year ago she messaged me on MSN for the first time in years. We got to talking and soon we hit off. Eventually about 8 months ago she caught the train up to see me. First time i met her i was nervous as hell, a little shaky, i was pale, my mouth was dry and i could feel my heart beating in every part of my body. We picked her up from the train station. I got in the front seat so i didn’t have to sit next to her (I was really nervous and a little scared of the rejection i was almost sure was about to happen) and she got in the back seat. On the ride home she put her arms around me from the back and my brain must of short circuited or something because my jaw dropped, my heart was beating so hard and fast even she could feel it and the only thing i could do was sit there and think to myself “What am i doing? What am i doing? What am i doing?”.
We got home and it was dark and cold (Winter time). So i went outside chopped some firewood and built a small fire in the fireplace outside. She sat next to me on the floor and held my hand, she saw i was uncomfortable about my hands but told me she likes them etc.. One thing led to another and soon i was head over heels in love with her. Months passed and almost every weekend she would come up to see me. In this point in my life, i was on top of the world. I learned to trust her and she was the only person i felt wouldn’t betray me… >.<
One day she sent me a text message saying she was leaving to go live with her father on the other side of the country, and she still wants to be friends but doesn’t think it’ll work…. I could almost hear my world crumbling down before me. Each word was like a tiny little glass splinter working its way into my heart. I can’t really explain how i felt as I’m not amred with words powerful enough to describe the over-whelming pain.
I smoked about 6 packs of cigarettes that night and vomited every 10 minutes until there was just nothing left to throw up. It felt like i was dying… rotting from the inside out. I cried for the first time in god knows how long. I didn’t know what to do, i was confused – i didn’t know anything was wrong when i last saw her a few days ago. A few days after that i thought about killing myself… Then the thoughts turned into actions. I went to my dads shed and got some nylon rope and used google to find out how to tie a proper hang-mans knot, so my neck would just snap when i jumped. Once i had that all ready i figured i shouldn’t leave any loose ends – so i made up a suicide note which consisted mainly of: “It’s no ones fault. I’ve just lost
my will to survive” blah blah. It was mostly bullshit as i was hiding my true feelings, i didn’t want anyone to know that someone had so much power over me that with a few simple words i was ready to kill myself.
I went on the internet and told some of my friends that i was going away for a while, and wouldn’t be back in a long long time. One of my friends figured out what had happend and what i was planning to do, i spoke vaguely about it for a few hours until i noticed it was almost 5 AM and people would be up soon, i had lost my window of opportunity. I went to bed and awoke to find that the same person who had figured out my plans told Mellisa, she abused me for a bit then encouraged me to do so, she went on to tell my damn mother what was going on and that just made my life x10 worse…. My mother now knew of a new way to abuse me, thankfully she at least had the good taste to shut up about it but i could always feel she was ready to use it against me.
I must of tried to kill myself 8 or so times, each time i couldn’t pull through with it. I wanted to die but everytime i went to make that a reality my stupid survival instinct kicked in and i freaked out. I eventually gave up and figured i was never going to be able to do it. So i started doing dangerous things. I drive my car at 140 on gravel roads, i ride the quad bike at increadible speeds throwing my weight around to make it stand on two wheels while going over jumps. I’ve joined the army as Special Forces and in a few months I’ll be in NSW to start training…
Anyway, let’s get to the present…. I’ve recently found out she’s moving back to this part of Australia… and she was a new boyfriend, she’s moving back to be with him…. i feel like such a piece of shit at the moment, all the memories and feelings are coming back and i’m losing it all overagain… I thought i was passed this but apparently not. I can’t talk to anyone about this because the friends i have are… not friends >.>
I just don’t want to live like this… I can’t think of anything to live for anymore but I’m too damn scared to kill myself.
And it’s not just about the girl – my entire life has sucked and i can only imagine my future is worse… The only way to really fix my future is to ensure i don’t have a future. Even if i were to set in motion a chain of events that would positively affect my future i don’t think the pain will pass anytime soon 🙁
I can’t see a way out of this. I’m torn between two, and there’s no right choice.
6 comments
That was only your first experience with heartbreak. Make sure you avoid her at all costs. You can fix your future if you fix your present. Get some real friends, and forget about her. She is just a memory, you will find another girl. The pain will go away with time. It always does. Its heaven and Hell. If you kill yourself your soul will have to restart its course. If you don’t complete the level in this time you will be forced to redo it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XG2vJBEQJn0&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riwxbh_n_WM
There’s always the question of what to do when all the roads you’ve travelled seem dead-end. I hear you saying that your life sucks and you see no proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel.” I don’t know if I can say anything that will help, but I’m going to try. And maybe it will help me, too.
A little about myself: I’m a 39-year-old woman, ancient compared to you. 😉 I have thought about suicide since I was about 7 or 8 years old. My thoughts back then did not consist of me thinking I was going to hang myself, shoot myself, or anything like that. I simply wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. I prayed for it. I wished for it on my birthday. Alas, it never happened.
My childhood was rough, but I never figured out how rough until I was much older. To me, that was just how my life was. I knew it sucked, but I didn’t feel any power back then to deal with it. My mother was also quite abusive to me, physically and mentally. But here’s the kicker…she wasn’t that way “naturally,” meaning it wasn’t in her personality or nature to be abusive. She was actually a good mom, providing for us what we needed phsycially and making sure we had clean clothes, roof over our head…that kind of thing. But I had a brother who passed away in 1977 from leukemia. Mom did not handle that well. After he died, she went crazy and had anger fits ALL the time. The slightest thing would set her off. I chose to be as quiet as I could to avoid her blowing up at me, which worked sometimes. I hid in my room a lot. As long as I was quiet in my room, she never bothered me. Well, most of the time, anyway. As I sit here writing this, I’m remembering a few incidents where she did things that have scarred me to the point where I can feel the emotional sting of it, even if it is 30 years later.
Long story short…(believe me…I could write a novel)…I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to sort out the fragments of my childhood. I’m preoccupied with it. My depression has affected my life in dire ways. It ruined a very good relationship I had with the love of my life to the point where I can’t fix it anymore. I’m beside myself with grief.
So I don’t know how this comment might help you, but I’m trying to talk around it with the hope that yoiu might be able to use something, espcially considering I’ve been dealing wiht severe depression msot of my life.
I’ve been suicidal a number of times. Never could go through with it cause, like you said, the survival instinct kicks in. Then I did some research and based on what I’ve learned throughout my school, especiailly in my biology classes, I came to realize that the body will fight for survival every time. Considering some of the things I’ve done or thought about doing, I have experienced that urge to fight to breathe.
So instead, I spend most of my time fantasizing about my death, somehow knowing I just can’t do it.
A few years ago, a friend of mine who was also struggling with depression was talking with me about these things and in our conversation, I said, “I don’t think I could ever go through with it cause I’m old enough now to know better. I just couldn’t do it now.” She nodded and said, “Yeah. Me, too.”
I hadn’t heard from her for a few years and in the fall of 2008, I heard from mutual friends that she had ended her life. I was devestated. I flashed back on that conversation she and I had sitting in her car in 2003 and wondered, “What the hell????” That’s about the time I broke off my engagement and the world has been spiraling downward ever since then.
I”m currently in therapy working with a man who does EMDR. Ever hear of that? It’s an acronym for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocesseing. The principle behind it is to help “rewire” the brain, especially for those who suffer from PTSD and have had severe trauma in their lives. I’ve done it before at the beginning levels, but I need heavy duty therapy at this point.
I know people saying, “Get some help” doesn’t really erase the sting. The only thing I can offer you is this. I have been fighting depression and suicidal tendencies and ideation for MOST of my life….since I was a little girl, long before teenage angst set in! But I somehow kicked through it all these years. When my friend killed herself a year and a half ago, I realized, The game is OVER for her. There is no reset button. She is DONE. Somehow, realizing that helps me kick just a bit stronger. She didn’t make it, but goddamn it….*I* will!
That doesn’t mean I don’t have bad days. Just this evening on my way home from work, it hit me like a brick how badly I wanted to die. Whenever that mood hits me, I refocus myself and think about Pandora’s box (Greek mythology. Here’s a link to some information about it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pandora I highly recommend it.) When all else seems most dark and foggy, I imagine a little sliver of hope left behind before all the goodness evaporates from my life, and I hang on like my life depends on that sliver, because it does.
I’m fortunate that I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve been happy…really, really happy. So I know I’m capable of it. I grow tired of constantly fighting my feelings of worthlessness, sure. But when I stop to think about some of the beautiful experiences I’ve had after the times I’ve almost killed myself, I stop for a moment and thank myself for being strong enough to get through those times.
As I read your last paragraph, I’m struck with your words. It is difficult to see a way out of the muck and mire and darkness and fog. You may feel like your two choices are life and death, and each choice sucks big time. Given that way of thinking, (cause I’ve thought that way many times myself) I can only offer this. If you’re still alive, you at least still have options. If you’re dead, like my friend, your game is over. She no longer has any options. There is nothing she can do to improve her life, challenge herself, and grow as a human being. Maybe you feel like you don’t need that. But to that I would say, you are 17 years old. I’m 39. I can look back on all the crappy moments I’ve had in life and kinda laugh at them and say, “Ha! I beat you!” And believe me. When I was 8, 14, 25, and even now, it often feels like life is beating me. But I’m stronger than that. Besides, Pandora was left with hope…and that’s the little gift, if you want to call it that, that our humanity gives us.
But then again, I may not know a thing about it. I”m just trying to work it all out myself. I wish you good luck.
Hey beinghuman,
I hear what you’re saying about the “Light at the end of the tunnel”, however i find myself in pit rather than a tunnel – I see the light but every time i climb towards it I’m knocked back down. I’m tired of trying to claw my way to the top only to be kicked back into the abyss.
Pandora’s Box is an excellent tale, I’m familiar with Greek mythology and that of most cultures that have existed through out the centuries . I used to tell myself things like “Persevere against all opposition, crush all limitations” and “I will endure this misfortune and bring starvation to those who hunger for my defeat” though these have reached their expiry date as i can no longer find it within myself to carry on and i simply can’t kill myself either.
You’re right about the human bodies ability to survive. If you take off my arm with an axe, I’ll lose enough blood then pass out – While I’m out cold the brain will go “Oh gee, loosing a lot of blood out of the arm, gonna restrict blood flow to that area” and I’ll live long enough to get to a hospital. People have fallen from planes and had their chute fail to open, yet they’re still alive which is nothing short of amazing – The G-Forces experienced from going to terminal velocity to dead stop are enormous, let alone the amount of kinetic energy passing through you at that point. This doesn’t even encroach upon the sub-conscious survival instinct which is what most of us here will face at one point or another.
Anyway I’m probably being difficult, so i wish you luck with your soul searching (If you wish to call it that).
Hey man, just to leat you know…you’re not alone. It’s a long story, but I’ll try to be brief, don’t want to waste anyone’s time…
I am a high school swimmer. It’s pretty boring but it keeps me in shape, so who cares, right?
Well…after I left high school and didn’t make the swim team for my junior college, I needed something to keep me busy.
I signed up at a gym near my apartment. I figured everyone seems to like slim people, so I figured I’d take my stab at swimming again.
Well, I was changing in the bathroom which is always cool since I’m gay, but anywayz, where was I?
Oh…yeah, the bathroom. Well I jumped in the shower and started to shave my legs, when suddenly I spotted…him. His name was a Garey, and yes, yes, and yes. He was tall, he was good looking, and he was out of my league.
But there was hope. My girlfriends and me did some research the day before and found out he ws gay. My heart skipped a beat, and it wouldn’t be the last time….
Well the next week I was at The Portal, a gay club in West Hollywood, and I was sipping my usual ‘Sex on the Beach,” when I saw him walk in. Well, I must have had a few too many martinis, and caught myself hitting on Garey. To my surprise, he bought be a cosmo and we hit it off. And I mean REALLY hit it off. I blacked out and awoke the next morning to find Garey in my bed….
There is much more that I ‘ll spare you the details of, but let’s just say things aren’t the same with Garey. He won’t return my calls, he won’t go out to the club, he cancels appointments to meet my girlfriends, and at the pool he acts like I don’t even exist.
So here I am, googling my thoughts when I found your story.
I know your story isn’t exactly the same, but I know what it’s like when you realize that there’s no point to living. I’m gay and alone.
People on here try to help, but they don’t know what it’s like, what its like to want to end your life. I’m not one of those people. I do know.
This life would never hold any real pleasure for me ever again. Therefore tomorrow night I’ll wait while the gym closes, get one last glance at Garey, and upon closing will climb that same tower he climbed so many time, strap cinder blocks to my ankles, and jump off the highdive, sinking myself eternally into this worthless abyss that we call “LIFE,”
Omerta,
You’re so right. That light at the end of the tunnel thing is just an idiomatic phrase that doesn’t mean anything, really. Especially when one is feeling like they’re in a pit, like you say. Believe me. I know a thing or two about it.
I’ve read a few stories in this “suicide project” place. It reminds me of so many instances in my life. I’ve hated my life since I was a kid. Now that I’m approaching mid-life (egad!), I’m super frustrated because I feel like I’ve fallen into that pit you speak about. And I’m approaching middle-age. It’s absolutely terrifying.
I don’t even feel like “soul searching,” as you have mentioned. I’m so uninterested in anything and am on auto-pilot, a technique I’ve used a number of time to get myself through the stormy, choppy path. I’ve lost interest in religion, spirituality, anything fun that I used to do, and even politics, and I used to love following politics.
I don’t even know how I found THIS place…but I ended up here and while reading some of these stories, I’m taken by the struggle that so many human beings go through. Many would say, “Oh, it’s just over a girl (or a guy, or whatever), you shouldn’t fuss so much about it.” or any number of things people think you “should” or “should not” do. But when someone is feeling suidical, there is real pain going on, both physical and mental, that feels impossible to overcome.
I’ve been surrounded by people throughout my life filling my head with the shoulda-coulda-wouldas that quite simply have ticked me off. What the hell do THEY know, anyway? But when my friend killed herself nearly two years ago, my perspective changed. It broke my heart to learn of her death. And I thought, “So that’s what people have been talking about when they’ve tried to help me.” Hmph….Well, I still feel tons of pain, but I’m somehow managing to kick through it anyway.
I view life more like a storm. Sometimes it’s crazy as hell and you feel like the winds are going to blow you away and rip you apart in the process. But storms eventually calm down and if you’re lucky…they go away for a while. When I feel those monstrous waves of anxiety and pain hit me, I want nothing more to die. Last night was one of those waves that hit, a storm surge, if you will. But I woke up this morning, still trying to figure out how I managed to get through that wave. And this morning, the water is choppy, but I’m seeing my therapist this morning, so I have a sliver of hope that something will break and I can see some dawn at some point. And it may not be today. But for some reason, I keep hanging on. I wish I could stop somtimes, but I’m a tenacious little cuss. Darn it. Sometimes I don’t like that quality of mine. :-/
Whatever….we all have our own demons to face. And perhaps it’s that “tenacious little cuss” part of me that will not let THEM beat me. I say to anyone who wants to end their life …. fine. If you’re that deep in a hole, you’re NOT feeling much of anything, so what difference does it make? I choose, on the other hand, to keep fighting for my life. Even if it’s painful as hell. If I have to live through a few years of numbness until I can feel those sparks of joy again, then that’s what I’ve got to do. But I certainly can’t change anyone’s mind about it, and I have no intention of doing so. I just want people to know they’re not alone in this nasty weather, so to speak.
beinghuman,
I agree with you over people saying “’tis just a girl, harden the fuck up”, or something like that. People don’t realize pain isn’t a constant but a relative. What one feels over a given situation is relative to the person. The reason why we’re here on this site is because we’ve come to the conclusion that life isn’t so great. Our equations are different but the conclusions are the same, for me it’s simply Shit Life + Emotional Betrayal = A Wish for Death. Everyone here to some extent feels like the hunted, the victim, the prey & the fallen.
I actually like this site because as you said, it lets people know they’re not alone. This takes away that feeling of abandonment, you’re not the only victim of life.
If i were you, i wouldn’t worry to much about hitting 40 – Calling it “Mid-aged” implies half your life is over, simply change your view point – One half is ending, but a new half begins. Think of it as a new lease on life, rather than the more morbid view of half your life being over. Though from what you’ve told me the last 40 years weren’t that great anyway, so simply, to hell with them. Though what would i know? I’m 17 :-p