Hello this is my story

Hello. You can call me Gene. This is my first time posting, but I’ve stalked the forums for years. I’m posting due to the fact that this site attracts like minded people. i.e. People who don’t just assume that my decision to end my life is due to some rare emotional outburst.

Before I get started, let me warn that This post may drag on, and I am not the best with grammar.

So let me tell a little about myself. I have just turned 29 last month. I currently live with my family. This is not due to money, but due to the fact that I hated living alone. I have a very good paying job, running a retail store which I have worked at for 10 years.

I am an atheist but I do understand why others are not. Even so, I wish people didn’t bring up religion when I let it slip that I want to die.

I know I’m better off then most, but why then do I wish to die? Because I, like a good portion of the people reading this suffer from a crippling social anxiety and it’s getting worse.

I’m very good at hiding it. Most people never know when I’m losing it. It’s not something medication can fix. It was a learned behavior. I was picked on my entire school life, and so it left a scar on my mental state. I see any person I don’t know as a threat, someone who judges, and just wants to find flaws. I know that this thought process is false, and that most the people I think that about don’t give a damn, but it’s there, and it won’t go away.

It’s thanks to this thought process that my love life is very stressed. I have lucked into 2 note worthy relationships. The first was when I was 16. The second, and most tolling was the second at the age of 24. Both times it was the girl that asked me out.

I’ve wanted to die since I was very young. Getting picked on constantly will do that to you. At first it was because no one would leave me alone, then it was due to the fact that my only friends were my Legos. Then when I hit adolescent, it was girls and the loneliness of seeing others who could get with girls I like, and knowing I couldn’t get with them.

Then one day at the age of 14 it all came to a boiling point. I had been trying to fit in at high school and would hang with a group of kids that didn’t make me feel too awkward. One of the girls mentioned that guys who normally said they had a large dicks normally ended up have a more mediocre size.

Me hearing this decided to try to be witty and said, “Well then I have a small dick.”
I really shouldn’t have been surprised when most the school only knew the small dick part. I was a fucking idiot, but that was just the first act.

The second act came when I was in health class. I had gotten into an argument with some prissy girl who sat in front of me in health class. A friend of hers called her over and whispered something in her ear, when she walked over she giggled and quietly said, ” small dick.”

For me this was the moment that I became “suicidal”. I mean I had wanted to escape before. I wanted to get away from people, from emotions. But this was when it all escalated and I had to make a decision. I had grabbed a pencil from my desk and I that moment I had to choose.

I wanted to stab her. I really can not tell you how badly I wanted to. I can’t even remember her name, but at the time she was more then that prissy ***** in health class. She was the embodiment of everything I hated about people. How they felt the need to tease me because I wasn’t part of there group, how they shunned me. How they had turned me from wanting to be with people to fearing them.

I had raised my weapon and was going to kill that which had made my life a living hell, but then the rational side of me reminded me that it wasn’t my right to end her life, no matter how much I felt she deserved it at the time. There was only one person who I had the right to kill, and in killing this person the pain would go away.

That entire thought processed in one moment, and so I made my decision and stabbed the pencil into my neck.

Even in my rage the fear of pain had made me hold back, and I barely got though the skin. My teacher had seen the stunt however and had called the office who called the police.

They had no idea that the prissy ***** had almost been the one who was stabbed. In fact this is the first time admitting it to anyone. I stand by my choice. I still don’t believe one person has the right to take another’s life. But I do believe that your own life is yours to throw away if you so choose to.

I was able to get out of going to a mental hospital that time. I don’t know how I managed that, but it wouldn’t be until I was 17 that I was put into a mental hospital. I had tried hanging myself, but it failed. (Pro tip: your unconscious mind can save you if you give it the chance.).

At the time I was dating a beautiful girl, but feared not being able to do well enough in the job market due to my social anxiety. After I failed I learned about mental health, and the promises of a pill that could “cure” me were too good to not go on. After a not so fun stay at the mental hospital I was put on the pills.

The pills I was given turned me into a monster. I had violent mood swings and the want to hurt myself was overwhelming at times. When I tried to tell the doctor, they threatened to send me back to the nuthouse so I shut up and kept taking them, and I got worse and worse until I had lost all reasoning and started to think that the meds were helping and that the mood swing were me. I scared off my girlfriend with threats of suicide, and my mood swings and dropped out of school.

Sadly my girlfriend saved me from myself, at the same time as crushing me. She had called to check and see how I was doing. I remember rambling on about how they had upped my dosage and that I would get better soon and we could then be together again. Then she said the words that saved me. ” I’ll never go out with you again.”

I screamed at her, telling her then with that she had fucking killed me, and hung up the phone. I grabbed a razor knife slit my wrist. Cutting was not new to me, and I had cut and have cut my wrists many times, but this time was special. I know it was special because after the bleeding stopped I figured I would just let myself go insane, and stopped the medication that had caused the problems. I also know it was special because unlike all the dozens of other times that I have cut myself, that was the only one to leave a permanent scar, to remind me of what I had lost.

It took a good two months before I started to realize that it had been the medication that had been causing all my problems. It took me a year to finally straighten things up with my ex. She wanted to remain friends, but I knew it would be too painful for me to keep in touch, so after I apologized I cut off contact.

I had managed to get a job though a few contacts and spent most my time alone and wanting to end my life. I tried many things but failure always followed. I was careful not to let anyone know other wise I would end up back in the hospital on those damned drugs.

I did for a short period of time turn to religion during this time, but after reading the bible and talking to people who were highly religious, I lost faith and became an atheist.

It wasn’t until I was 24 that things would turn around. I met a girl, who ended up liking me, and after a brief dating period I proposed and we moved in together. Life took on a different flavor, I was happy, for the first time in my life I was genuinely happy. We had decided to wait a couple years before getting married and in those years we had our fights, but everything was good.

It was a week before we were to get married when she said we “had to talk”. At first I thought it was just about her getting cold feet, then I found out, she was wanting to get with someone else. Needless to say I found out shortly that the damn canopy bed she wanted that I always hated did make a good gallows, once the mattress was removed. That time I was stopped by a phone call from a family member.

A loved one had been abused by their boyfriend and had moved into my old room, right after my second ex had left me, so I was left in my apartment alone, and wanting to die.

I soon turned to going to certain massage parlors, for the touch of a woman which I longed for. It helped for a short time, but still only an hour of happiness per, and it was false, knowing they only wanted my money and not me, has dulled the feeling.

So that brings us to where I stand now. I’m alone and sad. My job is easy, but now I am failing at it do to not caring anymore, and I feel guilty for letting the people who own it down. My credit has gone to hell due to a hospital kidnapping me when I went to them for a refrance to see a physiologist. I did end up getting my old room back and left the apartment behind, but the memories and sadness remains.

So to sum it all up 29 year on this world 4 I can’t remember, and only 2 I can remember being happy. I know I don’t have anything biologically killing me as much as physiology due to me learning to fear people. I also know I don’t need medication to be well because when I was engaged, I was happy, everyday, something I miss, but can’t find again, at least not without completely reprogramming myself to not fear people and expecting the worst.

I have tried many times to find a girl that will like me, but I have had no success, and unlike others rejection does not strengthen me, it just reinforces the idea that there is something wrong with me.

As for the reason, I’m really here. Because yesterday I met a girl that has interest in everything I like, even the stranger stuff, so what’s the problem? Well after about fifteen minutes of talking to her, her boyfriend came up. Normally it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, in fact I was expecting it. What makes it huge, is that her boyfriend is a friend of mine, with pretty much zero interest in the stuff that her and I obsess about. So not only can I not get with a girl who within a few minutes i could finally talk to and have such a in depth conversation about my hobbies, but I have to avoid the local hangout because she’s not going anywhere and I get to watch as someone who has almost zero inter… I’m going to stop now it is a rant.

Just know that right now it feels like life is spitting in my face showing me someone who I would want to be with, have no chance with, and have to stop going to my favorite hangout or just be destroyed by the jealousy.

I’m sorry for ranting on. In truth it probably is due to the fact that I have no one here that I can talk to without fearing being sent into a hospital because I believe people have a right to end their lives if they so choose.

Good night all.