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.
</rant>
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.
4 comments
Yeah, me too.
I’m only alive because I have this idiotic inclination to change the world to make it to where there won’t be people like you and I.
Every day I feel like I want to cry, but I tough it out and move “forward” like a machine.
I personally suggest you do everything you can to change this world also, at least if you have to force yourself to stay alive like me.
..When this is all over, then, and only then can I do, and maybe you too.
We care because we cannot imagine nonexistence. There is no known biological purpose for us to have an ability to imagine our own death. It’s probably an adaptation that we _can’t_ imagine being dead, to help us resist the urge most people get to kill themselves.
It follows that if we cannot properly imagine death, we can’t imagine the apathy that must come with death. As you’ve written (when we’re dead) we’ll be eternally out-of fucks to give.
But that’s not what our minds tell us. Our minds say “what is this death that you speak of?” And “of course you should care.” Because our minds are clever devious bullshitters, evolved to keep us in the game.
And Happy Birthday, bro 🙂 I hope some hot twin chicks pop out of a giant birthday cake give you a strip tease and rock your world.
Happy birthday. I obviously don’t know you, but I hope you find joy or happiness or something meaning full in life, even if it takes a while.