Charles Bukowski

I’m generally bored and disgusted with life. I don’t like the way that I live (which I could change, but not much within grasp), and the way others live (which I admittedly have no right to change), in constant monotony. I’ve known I was going to kill myself for a couple years now, but finally took some initiative in January. I took a few milligrams of Xanax, got in a bath, and tried to cut my wrists and neck. Needless to say, it didn’t work, and I was sent to the hospital for a week, on self-harm watch. Worst week of my life, I had never wanted to kill myself more than in there. All (but two guys that I talked about books and television with) of the workers were ridiculous, and the 24/7 positive reinforcement made me flip shit a couple times, it was all too fake. Plus, not going outside for a week is just torture (humans were not created to be kept between four walls at all times). Anyway, so the experience there was too much for me, I knew I was going to commit suicide this summer.

Life hasn’t actually been too bad this week, but I knew it was going to get worse. So I set up a date to ‘off myself’. I decided it would be this past Friday, June 12th, 2015, by running a hose from my exhaust to the window in a field. I still had some mescaline left over so I decided to take that about noon, thinking I’d go at about 12-1 am. I was still tripping too heavily to drive at that point, and had tickets to a concert Saturday, so I decided I’d wait until the next day.

Directly after the concert, I drove to get some fast food (which I hardly ever eat) and then to the field I had in mind, I sat there, playing music, and eating (I was high again, but on edibles this time). I finally got out of the car, set everything up, and then got back in my car. I sat there for about an hour and fifteen minutes, hose in my mouth trying to fall asleep, but I couldn’t. It drove me mad every time I checked my watch. I eventually got back out, put the hose in my trunk, pissed, and drove home. I was too tired and angry to try anything else that night (Saturday, June 13, 2015).

Now I just don’t know where to go from here. I still want to die even more so than before, yet I feel like even more of a failure for not dying both times. Honestly don’t know why I’m sharing this, but just thought you guys could say something ( don’t know what. Anything really.)

P.S. My first time posting, don’t know if I did it right…