n/a

  November 2nd, 2011 by wreath_of_amber

I have been researching suicide methods on and off for about a year. I have had suicidal ideation for a long time before that, but I hadn’t considered very seriously the idea that some suicide methods are more reliable than others, or that I might survive an attempted suicide at all. I quickly learned that most methods are, sadly, all too survivable. The only thing that could make me feel sadder would be trying to die and surviving, assuming I remain intact enough to understand what has gone on.

I have been depressed since my childhood. My earliest memories are of feeling guilt and shame and isolation. I am now in my late twenties. I have been through 10 years worth of therapy, too many different medications to count, accupuncture, Bowen method, supplements, fish oils, diets, blood tests, MRIs, hormone replacement, career counseling, homeopathy, too many self-help books to name. They didn’t take. It’s not anybody’s fault, we all tried.

The most frustrating thing about my “research” has been that there isn’t, in fact, any easy way out of being alive. I hate to veer so close to the perennial cliche of “I never asked to be born,” but the truth is, if I had been given the choice whether to live or not I would have opted out.  I just don’t have it in me, I’m not tough enough to withstand the constant struggles and hurts and millions of little humiliations. I’m lame and tired, I’m not made to survive.

I have been a good soldier all my life. I always did what everyone else wanted me to do, no matter what I wanted inside. I got excellent grades, I was a model employee, a thoughtful friend, a conscientious citizen. I was dead inside but I marched so dutifully through my life that most people never knew I was unhappy. But now I think it’s gone on long enough. I put in a good effort, I really really tried. I jumped through every hoop. Can’t I please, please be let out?

 

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