It’s hard to actually commit suicide. Before we do that, we try to use out all the resources to prevent our own deaths. A few weeks ago, when I’ve became sucidal, I’ve became genuinely affraid of the seriousness of my intents. I reminded myself of those stories, where a depressed person gets to be saved just because they decided to confess and reach out to someone. So, I’ve decided to do the same. I was looking for a sign to give me one faint reason not to kill myself. Guess what… Yeah, you’ve guessed right.
I was so alone and desperate that I used to hang out (for a single evening) with people I’ve met in a liquor store. I went to party with this one woman I’ve met there and I was so drunk and desperate to seek help from anyone who would be willing to offer, I confessed to her that I’m so depressed, I’m on the verge of killing myself. I was hoping to hear half-hearted “Don’t do that”, but what I’ve heard instead was: “Naaah, you’re not depressed! I (I!) was depressed for A YEAR, it was terrible” – well, I was shocked, and I didn’t pursue the topic. I didn’t know it was a competition…
Second time, it was my flatmate. I was drunk – ofcourse. And I started to speak about how depressed I am and that I’m seriously thinking about killing myself. He was silent, focussed on making the perfect lines on his cocaine desk. But his friend decided to join the topic. She said that she considers suicide to be a coward’s way out. I thought that people considering suicide in those categories were an urban legend. But no, there she was. I never thought that suicide was an act of courage or lack of it. Suicide is just an exit door sign flashing in bright green in a building that’s on fire. There’s no cowardice in entering that door, because sometimes IT’S THE ONLY WAY OUT. But now I know that there are people in this world who are convinced, that a person who kills themsevles is a coward. Anyway, my “lovely” flatmate gave me a few lines of cocaine for consolation. How thoughtful of him.
I used to have a friend (or at least I thought she was a friend), who was so kind, selfless and good, that she would throw herself in front of a grown man in order deffend a homeless person. I tried to seek help from her too. I told her that I think, noone will ever love me, and she simply said “nooo, thaaaat’s not true!”, and then she ghosted me.
I also had this “friend”, my previous flatmate, to whom I looked up to. I confessed to her too, and then she said “nooo, you cannot call yourself depressed, depression is an serious issue. You’re not depressed, my sister is depressed, no pills can help her, she just lies in her bed like a vegetable”. Ok, so just because your sister is worse than me means that I’m healthy and don’t need medical attention? At that time I listened to her, that’s why I’m in such miserable state right now. Guess I’ve reached the ideal of being her sister…
Aaaand my favourite: “get yourself together, go for a walk or something” – that was my present flatmate, who (after I’ve told her to stop bullying me, because I’m on the verge of suicide) reaaaly, reaaaaly wants to be psychologist and to help people. I see the potential.
20 comments
this absolutely sucks people genuinely dont care as much as they pretend they do. listen tho if you need a sign.. im your sign, you wouldn’t have asked or confessed if you didnt still have a tiny part of you that wants to live. i just advise you to stop telling those people, no one really cares and i know how hard it is to bottle things up but telling those ignorant people who think its a fucking competition will make you feel more shit
Thanks. I am just amazed by those hipocrits, especially that many of them consider themselves to be empathetic or they share on fb those depression prevention post…
I made a big mistake once. It’s funny you talk about this because it’s one of the things I struggle with daily. I never wanted or intended to get help when I was talking to this person she basically cornered me, probably asked why I didn’t want them at my event that night and then asked what I was going to do now that I had graduated high school. I just told her matter of factly that I intended to commit suicide by gunshot to head. (Didn’t want it to be a complete surprise to these aquaintences) Oh lord, I don’t know how many bibles that person owned but it sure got me hospitalized and trapped in the life I dont/never wanted or intended to live. Now I can’t even buy a gun to end my life and the pills f*cked me up… I have nothing to live for and I’ve been wishing on this day for 13 years. I’ve been searching desperately for the last 6 years (the year I was hospitalized) to try to find a way to commit that I can accomplish. Well because I can’t buy a gun anymore with my permanent record. Every day I think how soon I can commit suicide. Honestly, I don’t want to live one more day.
I didn’t think they’d force me into hospitalization honestly I thought they’d be like “ok then” and then I’d commit.. I mean I’ve always my whole life wanted to commit. I mean honestly my whole life I haven’t had one even ok day and I haven’t enjoyed a single moment.
I’ve been ready to commit for 13 years, by the way. Ha.
Omg, that’s so terrible! Can they just lock you up like that if you are an adult? I imagine that must’ve really worsen your condition :/ I was locked up for a month when I was 15, because I had anorexia and I still have PTSD after the ordeal. I’ve developed clinical depression there. After a month I’ve finally convinced my mother to discharge me:/ If the meds you’re taking fucked you up – shouldn’t they change your meds? Where I live, If you don’t want to take specific meds, doctors change them imediately. The meds actually helped me to function and there are some that have no side effects, just not every doctor know them (and they are 5x more expensive, obviously). How exactly do you feel after those meds?
Apparently if you “pose a risk of being a danger to yourself or others” then they can keep you for as long as they want to and whenever they want to, pull you into the back room to sedate you. I don’t know but I’m a danger to myself every day because I try to kill myself every day 🙂
I just read somewhere if they give up hope and think you are REALLYgoing to kill yourself they refuse to continue treatment because they don’t want to be blamed when the investigators find out you are dead and we’re getting “”””treatment””” with doctor so and so. Even if it is their fault. Oh well.
I don’t take the meds anymore. I always knew the people putting me in the hospital were loony tune, they just wanted easy money for sitting there doing jack sh*t. Anyway think I developed tradive dyskinesia. I gained 50 pounds in three months on antipsychotic dose. I lost it after more police abuse. I don’t know if it had to do with the meds and tradive dyskinesia, but after being r*ped I can no longer go outside of my house and/or walk to the store, read, or cook. But I’ve been r*ped 155 times.
I don’t want meds because I’m not the type that is “oh I want to live but I’m not happy or I want to live but I can’t function in society (!!)” no I’m like I DONT f*cking WANT TO LIVE one more day, in my life that I’ve always hated. The only thing id use medication for is to overdose on to commit suicide. Too bad they no longer hand out barbiturates.
Six years ago I texted my suicide note some miles from home and just hours before solid planned lights out because I was thinking family should know a thing or two about settling my estate, besides what could they do about or with a text message? Now it is six years later…
Well, so did they trap/abduct you into the loony bin or not?
The police pulled me over. I had, some months before considered that possibility, even as remote as it was. Looking back at it now, it is still surprising I considered the possibility of police interference. So I did know what to do to hopefully keep them from arresting. When I saw the lights go on I resigned myself to the looney bin but when actually questioned I knew what to do. Those guys were very “nice” but I figured they were just trying to get me comfortable with them so I would spill the beans. I was impressed with their interviewing skills but utterly aware this was no social call.
Honestly, It took me a few days to process that you’ve been raped over 150 times. I cannot fathom how you feel, but I understand why you want to kill yourself. And I think that commiting suicide is your right. You’re not a missunderstood teen that “can be fixed”. However, you are in a certain situation you can do nothing about. You cannot run away from your thoughts, and those are killing you. That – I get. Try to change your doctors, because I recently found one who understands me and that makes a whole lot difference. Looks like somebody made you stuc in this life you’re living, but you’re mind can escape. If I were you, I would flee the country to leave in Iceland, Europe or Australia and start a new life. Think about it. You ca start a new life somwhere else.
Sorry for typos, but I’m drunk, I;ve meant *your and *live (not a natve speaker, sooory)
@a1957 Why were you pulled over and what made you bring up suicide to the police? When I was younger yeah oops didn’t realize there are certain people I shouldn’t say certain things to. Hello, free world, why in the world should they try to stop you from committing suicide? It’s just not right..
@awis Yes. I wholeheartedly ageee and it’s nice of you to suggest that. But that was my last resort before being raped/molested 157 times… now I have no control over my life. My desire to leave to find a better life has been put out like the flame of a candle. I am fully trapped now. I have come to terms that the rapists and the trauma will follow me wherever I go. The mind has been murdered in me and now the only thing I can do now is kill the body. Before the rapes, yes, leaving the town and changing my identity would have fixed everything. Now, there is nothing I can do. It’s like I am dead already.
My suicide is definitely not irrational. I have wanted this almost my whole life. Nobody can “fix” me. It is my way, it is my choice, my decision to end my life. And no billy bob or joe with a badge will make me change my mind.
My suicide note was a text message about how to deal with my estate. The note was written to make complete sense given the circumstances that would follow my death, but nothing in my note said how or when I would die or even mentioned that I would die. So far so good. But a family member that was shown the note declared it was a suicide note and based on that a missing persons report was filed. That got the police on my bumper and they asked me if I was planning suicide. I denied it and went on to say and not say, do and not do, in such a way as to get them to go away with out an arrest. I remember I was plenty scared when I saw the lights come on but I remembered what I had researched for such an unlikely occasion and the research paid off. But I made other mistakes too and the interference from all that was just too much and I decided to just go home that night.
You sound lucky in that situation. Well I’ve been trying to kill myself with gunshot since I was 12 years old. Um, I’ve been being followed for quite some time now and then I started getting raped/molested. I was just molested twice in the last two days so I’m kind of freaking out right now. In the last 4 years, I have been raped/molested 158 times. Anyway…. so I started having random bitches follow me and they’d “sick” the cops on me whenever they felt like it for fun … I’ve been in the loony bin 4 separate times, 15 days for 3 of The stays and 28 days in the 4th. After my 4th stay in the loony bin (I was so so so so so happy before the 28 day stay though because I had been trying to get a shotgun for 10 years and I finally had one. I thought I was finally going to be able to kill my self. No these nasty fucking bitches that I hate followed me took my gun and disallowed me to shoot myself in the head for suicide. Anyway I can’t say it helped to stay in the loony bin even a little it just made me want to kill myself more. …… after that I started getting people following me more.. Once I bought a knife at Walmart and had to go to jail because of it, then two months later I had some random mothersfckers watching me nonchalantly call the cops on me where I was in jail again, then I was arrested 2 months later. Then they tortured me for two consecutive years when the 150 rapes occurred. I think is considered a hate crime and corrective rape because I’ve been a lesbian my whole since 5 years of age, where they say “You have to learn a lesson.” Then I finally thought the torture was over but the cops followed me again and arrested me two times within a period of 11 days. I’ve had to pay them up to 10,000$ since 2016. And for my 28 day stay they sent me a bill of 36,000$. We didn’t do anything for those entire 28 days. I sat in my room the entire time and then they sent me a 36,000$ bill. I’ve been pulled over 3x in the last month. I got a 400$ Ticket, then a 150$ ticket, and some other. I don’t see the point. I am not going to not commit suicide. It is my highest dream. Why live?
If you wont to talk about how to run away and get a clean slate, I can give you some advise.
People without any experience or education in what depression and suicide are don’t have anything useful to contribute, apart from if they tell them where to find someone who will understand.
I’ve been publicly depressed for a decade, it’s on display for any of my family and friends that want to talk about it. I do it because there are others out there suffering and it’s better that they talk about it with someone who can at least tell them that it sucks, and understands how hard it is to live when all the desire is in the direction of destruction.
You’ve pulled it together despite these people, not because of them. There is good help out there, but I’ve yet to find it in people I arbitrarily find myself related to or in a relationship with.