I am 30 yo male. I had probably only one suicide attempt that really counts, since that was when I ended up in a hospital. The other times I just sat home or something, noose around my neck, but never actually did anything. I am getting therapy and was on antidepressants for a long time, but I simply do not think that there is any help out there for me. Even though I believe that life is basically about attitude I just can’t bring myself round to looking at the bright side. I feel broken. Broken beyond repair. Or maybe even misshapen, malformed… I feel that there must have been something wrong with me from the very start, something very very wrong… I curse the day I was born. I curse my parents for ever having children. I curse the air I breathe that it does not turn to noxious gas to suffocate me. I curse my heart that it won’t stop beating… I do have enough cyanide on my hands to end it once and for all, but… But I just do not know what to do… I hate everything and most of all I hate myself.
9 comments
Why?
æ²¡ä»€ä¹ˆçš„ï¼Œå“¥ä»¬ã€‚å½“åˆ«äººæŠŠä½ å½“åžƒåœ¾çš„æ—¶å€™ï¼Œè‡ªå·±å’ŒçœŸæ£å–„良的人是ä¸ä¼šæŠ›å¼ƒä½ 的。把宇宙缩å‡åˆ°å”¯ä¸€çš„ä¸€ä¸ªäººï¼ŒæŠŠå”¯ä¸€çš„ä¸€ä¸ªäººæ‰©å¼ åˆ°ä¸Šå¸ï¼Œè¿™æ‰æ˜¯çˆ±ã€‚爱,便是众天使å‘群星的膜拜。çµé‚是何ç‰æ‚²ä¼¤ï¼Œå½“它为爱而悲伤ï¼äººä»¬ä¸éš¾ç†è§£ï¼Œå¦‚果万物之父ä¸æ˜¯æ˜Žæ˜Žä¸ºäº†çµé‚è€Œåˆ›é€ å®‡å®™ï¼Œä¸æ˜¯ä¸ºäº†çˆ±è€Œåˆ›é€ çµé‚,上å¸ä¹Ÿä¼šä¼¤å¿ƒçš„。上å¸åœ¨ä¸€åˆ‡çš„åŽé¢ï¼Œä½†æ˜¯ä¸€åˆ‡é®ä½äº†ä¸Šå¸ã€‚东西是黑的,人是ä¸é€æ˜Žçš„。爱一个人,便是è¦ä½¿ä»–é€æ˜Žã€‚爱,真æ£çš„爱,æ‰èƒ½è®©äººå¹¸ç¦ã€‚å¯æƒœå¾ˆå¤šäººï¼Œä¹Ÿè®¸éƒ½æ²¡æœ‰ã€‚相信我,活ç€è‡³å°‘有点希望。åªè¦ä½ ä¸åŽ»ä¼¤å®³åˆ«äººã€‚
@gull13;
Perhaps what you need is to fully accept yourself and that this is what the world is. There is no sense in beating ourselves up over it. Maybe let go. Cleched fist to open palm sir.
Someone, much older like say 40-50 years old offer helpful advice to this man.
@hahahahahaha123456;
ã‚ãªãŸã®ãƒ¦ãƒ¼ã‚¶åã¯éžå¸¸ã«è¦‹ä¸‹ã™ã‚ˆã†. ã¨å¤±ç¤¼ã§ã™ã€‚
I am “much older” at an ancient forty-one years of age. 😀
I must advise first: I have felt relatively the way that you say that you feel my entire life. I have multiple suicide attempts, that “really count” by your definition, throughout my life. I have been under the “care” of psychologists, psychiatrists, neurologists, hypnotists, group therapy, etc since before I even reached adolescence. I have taken virtually every poison that the doctors think is in vogue at the time. I have had so many diagnoses that I don’t even know what to tell new doctors when I have to switch 😀 I generally believe the axis II schizotypal pd is most fitting though. Anyway, this is all just to say that I have held those basic feelings or have had many of those thoughts throughout my entire life. I know that it is not fun. And I understand that sometimes it helps in just the tiniest bit to know or feel that someone else in the world feels the same way, or at least similarly.
Note: below I will say “you” when I am actually just relating what it is “I” feel
You probably have absolutely no reason to wake up in the morning. You probably cannot imagine anything at all that you want from this world. As I like to say, “nothing to see, nothing to be, no reality”. You probably can’t even think of anything at all that would even make you want to live if you could have absolutely anything by magic. You probably hate yourself because you know that you are different from every other person and that nobody could ever relate to what you think, feel, or experience internally. You probably are only interested in things that this world, and its inhabitants, seem to be totally oblivious to. You probably find no use whatsoever struggling in a futile pursuit of shallowness and pointlessness.
Again, I can be totally wrong with all of this easily. But many of your thoughts are just so familiar, not the same as no two people can be the same, that I thought that you may be like I was a decade or so ago. I only posted it because, again, sometimes it just helps to know that someone feels the same thing. For me personally, it enrages me beyond words when people try to “help” me see things like I have never contemplated the most basic concepts or alternatives to my pervasive and lifelong thoughts. I literally fantasize about killing my sadistic doctors quite often, for I know that they cannot “fix” me, but continue to “help” me so that they can make money.
I will offer that I did see a slight glimmer of hope, perhaps in our deepest recesses none of us ever truly gives up hope (though some overcome it through sheer will :D). I am a believer that everything in what we call “reality” is nothing but our own internal thoughts, interpretations, or beliefs. (the funny little biological computer that can make anything real, for the computer case anyway 🙂 ) My problem lies not in understanding that I can create any universe that I can imagine to live in, my problem is that I cannot imagine one in which I would want to live. So my pervasive universe is one in where I trap myself in this place that I created without forethought or purpose. I resent the software that I created for myself. That leads to a lot of my own personal self-loathing, in that I know my beliefs are what make me miserable, but I find it impossible to change those beliefs.
If any of this feels familiar to you, maybe you find the tiniest bit of comfort knowing that you are not completely alone in what you feel. I can’t say that these will go away, or that you can get help, or it will get better, only you can find out if you are capable of beating it. And no one can do that for you, no matter what they say. I have had people trying to “fix” me my whole life, they cannot. (Well they could in reality, but they have adamantly refused my requests for a lobotomy) Each year I get progressively worse and my mental functioning deteriorates faster and faster, I was once very smart, but now even stringing together coherent thoughts is quite a challenge. Against the chaos of raging storms of infinite streams of thought that whiz by in a terrifying and confusing chorus of laughter.
Now, off of the gloomy crap. 😀 You may very well be able to change your beliefs! If you are still highly functioning I would certainly say that you should at least try seeing a psychiatrist and the latest potions to see if they help. They might. Many people have said that they have gotten better talking out their problems and having the doctors offer their perspectives. There is nothing wrong with trying. Hell, I went to, and still see, any and all of them 😀 At least it gives me something to do once in a while. And you get to have a conversation with someone with an IQ over 125 for a change 😀 At least they might give you some insight into what you appear like from an outside observer. I have gained, not any fixes for sure, but a good deal of understanding of my pervasive thought patters associated with a bunch of my “labels”.
Good luck to you sir, find peace if you can, however you can…
YOU NEED TO FIGURE OUT EXACTY WHY YOU ARE HAVING THESE FEELINGS ABOUT YOURSELF.
Well, thanks everybody for your insights and the time you have spent replying to my post. But I still do not know… You see, I am getting therapy as I have said. I go and talk to this nice lady every week, which might at times make me feel better since she is the only one to whom I can talk about things that make me feel bad. Like for example about the fact that I feel so alone that I have taken to sleeping with a tiny doll clutched in my hands. When I told her and started crying, I did feel slightly better afterwards, true… As far as drugs are concerned, I do not want to take any pills any more. There is not much of a point here since no matter what I ever took, I did not feel that much of a difference. Since I am usually labeled as a borderline personality disorder guy, there is not much medication can do for me anyway, so no surprise there.
But the worst part is this emptiness that I feel almost all the time. The vastness of my inner space, just empty. Devoid of soul, of any real feeling. Of any genuine connection to the outside world. It is just so overwhelming… You see, it is like looking into a swirling pool of nothingness, vast and terrible. And yeah, I know that with BPD things are supposed to pick up with age… But, well, I must say that the only difference that I have come to notice is the lessening of physical pain that my inner torment used to cause me and also the fact that I do no longer behave as a wild animal so much as I used to. But all that is being bought only by an ever increasing sense of that emptiness, unreality and utter and total resignation. Nowadays, even though I have that blasted cyanide, killing oneself kinda feels more like another drudgery, just another mindless chore that I would have to do.
I simply lack any motivation to do anything. I lack motivation to live, but I can’t be bothered to die either. Does this make any sense? My life is an unlife. My death is undeath.
if u want kcn mail me at nilesht65@ yahoo dot com …… its in powdered form and 100pc pure.
Some people have these feelings for no reason…
Take me for example. My major depressive disorder has no known cause, and I have been living in hell for 20 years or so…
Oh and smoke weed, it stops suicidal thoughts and cutting thoughts dead in its tracks 🙂