I don’t even know how many suicide attempts i’ve had, it only makes things worse when you don’t succeed.
People want to know why, you get sent to specialists and quite frankly, they’re a load of horse sh*t, putting faith in these people isn’t something i feel comfortable with, they don’t want to give you medication and when they do, they give you the wrong one, or they neglect to tell you that it’s addictive.
Right now i’ve got some anti anxiety medication, it’s started to kick in but the only thing it has done is make me want to clean, then  get stressed about mess, i’m sitting here, i know i’m depressed, i know i still want to die, but i feel like these meds are making me sort of happy.
It’s a fake happy, it’s worse than being depressed, i cried for half an hour earlier, i slumpt over in my bed and had a quiet anxiety attack, with no witnesses about to see how pathetic i looked and how low i felt.
I know later that i’ll have the energy to socialise, but once i’m back on my own again, i don’t have anything to distract me from my problems, i can pretend to be happy, if i run away from those problems.
the problems that i have won’t go away, they’ve already happened and they are unchangeable, there’s no way to solve them, i can’t get over them, i feel responsible for bringing suffering to my door, i feel like i was a bad person and i deserved everything bad that ever happened to me.
IÂ feel numb in some senses but the emotion is still there deep down, and anger, a very strong anger is just beneath the surface and i want to burst, to make myself feel better, to unleash the entire history that made me this way, i had no nurturing, i only have memories of a dark, sad and lonely childhood.
People tell me that i have been through a lot, and my problems now are nothing in comparison to what i’ve went through, but i feel broken and fragile because of my past, like a slight breeze would shatter my foundations.
I don’t want to die but it’s better than living, it’s easier to say that i don’t want to live this life, i wish there was a way to make things better, but things just keep getting worse.
the only thing that keeps me alve is thinking that by some miracle, in a few years, this will all be over and done with and i may live a happy life, but i’ve already waited for so long, it’s been 8 years of having to live like this, i can barely remember what it was like being carefree and happy, i just want this suffering to end, i want to be happy again
1 comment
Doctors and social workers, who are not gods, have trouble dealing with suicidal thinking and its related issues. Our society has lots of death denial and often ignores that problems in life don’t come with any guarantee of solution. Like you say, some things are irreversible once they happen.
I’m not sure that people speak wisely if they say that your “problems now are nothing in comparison to what you’ve went through”, as little logic attaches to comparisons of past and present like they were apples. They are apples and oranges–two different things.
I hope you will keep taking any prescribed medicines and keep in touch with the doctors who prescribed them. Medication is imperfect, but usually much better than nothing. There was a time, before modern sciences, when there really WAS nothing they could do.
This is a public forum. As such it’s not appropriate for me or anyone else to offer help. I just happen to be struggling, too, so I come on this site often lately.
May all the best luck on this planet visit you in your efforts.