Over the past week or so I have left a comment or two on these forums as well as a post of my own about 10 days ago. This is not my first time using this website, I have posted in the past but I have always avoided becoming an active participant in the Suicide Project community. Lately though I have been thinking a lot about the idea of suicide, and reading the posts of others on this site has given me some new perspectives and ideas to reflect upon. Ultimately, I hope to find others on this site who share my views on life, people with which to debate with on the meanings of life and death, of happiness and depression. Perhaps I might even make a group of friends here, individuals to discuss and even plot methods and such with. WhileÂ I am confident that when the time comes, I will be able to follow through with the deed myself, I know there are others out there that aren’t as strong-willed and might enjoy the company of a “partner”, if you will.
In particular I’m incredibly curious to hear about the stories of some of the other, more regular posters on this subject. Where does your story begin, why do you want it to end? I’ve always hadÂ fasination of sortsÂ in stories of grief and suffering. I’m told I have a very dark and cynical outlook on life, and reading about the struggles has always provided me with an odd sort of comfort.
Of course I realize the idea of reaching out and sharing your story with a complete stranger is a bit awkward. And while I still have no intentions on openly spilling out every detail of my past publically, I will close with a concise version of my story. I’m 16 and my name is the same as my username. Thats right, no hiding behind any sort of alias for me.Â I can remember being suicidal ever since the tender age of 8. Growing up, I used to lay awake at night, criticizing and loathing myself. I would frequently get up and reach for a 6 and a half inch stack knife I kept under my bed and hold it to my throat, attempting to build up the nerve to end it. Obviously, I was never successful in summoning that willpower. When I was 14 I was diagnosed with cancer. I was relieved when I heard the diagnosis, thinking a natural end was near. I was so confident that I would not surive the disease that I carelessly consented to treatment. This was a huge mistake, the treatments were a success and now, 2 years later, I am officially in a state of complete remission. I am coping with what could be described as survivor’s guilt. There are so many who watch their lives fall apart because of cancer and are powerless to stop it. People who would love nothing more than to get better. But these people didn’t get better. I did. I never wanted to, but I did. It feels like I stole their chance to live, and I dream about finding a way to give that chance back.
Like I said, I tend to be a very cynical person. I don’t easily trust easily. When I make a plan, I scrutionize and overanalyze every little detail in advance before making preperations to carry the plan out. This is part of the reason why I haven’t made a true attempt at suicide in over a year. Due to the very early development of my depression and tendancy towards very strong emotional mood swings, I suspect I might be bi-polar or something similar, but I won’t ever be sure of this because I will never consent to a session with any sort of therapist voluntarily.
Anyway, time to wrap this post up. I have spent far too much time writing it, especially since there is a possiblity that it won’t even be read. If anyone has a story to share, e-mail me at email@example.com. I assure, I have no intent of talking you out of your decisions or showering you with weak, pathetic attemptsÂ at meaningful advice, unless of course that is what you want. I guess what I’m looking for is someone to share experiences with. I want to understand what others are going through, and hopefully hearing these stories will help me further understand my own situation and feelings.