People can’t seem to understand when I tell them that 95% of my time on this earth has been suffering or painful.
Yes there are good times and good friends but they are so few and far between it’s just painful to continue. I’m pretty sure I have major depression, but without any money or healthcare coverage I can’t get it diagnosed, and honestly I really don’t care enough to try anymore.
Also lost my job in 2014, lost my health care coverage, and was rejected for unemployment or assistance of any kind. I had to sell the house, most of my belongings, and burn all of my savings and retirement funds to keep living.
Now I sit here on a few months left of my decimated retirement funds, not enough to survive the next winter, not enough to keep going. I really don’t want to starve to death, so I’ll be taking my way out before then.
I was hoping there would be some help, or UBI or something that might have given me more time, but it never happened.
Even if I had a job again I don’t think it would solve the problem that I just simply don’t belong here. I don’t feel like I’m where or who I should be, and the person that everyone thinks I am isn’t who I am.
I have what I need to do it, I have a place and a time set up. Just a quiet passing by a peaceful lake under the warm sun.
Friends will miss me, family will miss me, but their lives will go on without me. I have managed to rationalize that they’ll all be okay without me. And if they really wanted me to stay knowing how much pain life is, then I doubt I would want to for that reason.
I’ll probably post a few more times until the end, hoping to make it to my birthday in October, I think that would be an appropriate time to check out. Until then I hope you all find the hope that I lost somewhere along the road.
18 comments
Holy fuck! We’re almost doppelgangers. I was fired from my first job in 2013. My birthday is in October too but I don’t intend to reach that loathsome milestone. Of late I’ve also been rationalizing on similar lines, that if my family truly wants what is best for me, they should ideally be okay with me choosing to end my suffering.
Only thing unlike you is that dying by starvation is actually one of my options. It’ll be my last unrelenting hunger strike against god if it exists, against nature if god doesn’t exist.
Anyways, I’ll keep an eye out for your posts till then.
October me too! anyways I’ve been fired lost everything burned up my saving like you, about THREE TIMES! It’s hard to deal with but I did, I stared over rolled up my sleeves and kept fighting and things got better way better, this happens to most people, learn from your mistake, my advice would be start thinking positive and start over, it will work one way or another. you are depressed for a reason it’s is normal after what you been through. Get back on the horse and start riding!
Well the one good thing about life is that it is finite, we will all die one day, it’s just a question of when. I can relate to an extent. I had some great times when I was younger and I knew I’d probably never have those opportunities or those times again. But I was paralyzed by my own depression/insecurities which prevented me from fully taking advantage of what I had.
I’m still struggling to improve my life and I haven’t fallen quite as far as some people have which is why I’m willing to put up with a lot of bs because I do believe in the end it will be worth it. If not at least I can die knowing that I gave it my best shot despite failing.
I’m sorry that you’ve reached that level but I have been there too a few times in my life. If not for a few family members I care about, the decision to end my life would’ve been easier, but I’m glad I stayed at least to help them from being worse off without me.
However, if I do hit rock bottom again with no way out then I will definitely make my final plans as well. I was cheated out of a good life, partly because of my scumbag father who ruined some important opportunities for me at crucial times.
Not to say he was all evil, he did some good things but the bad outweighed it. Anyhow as stated for now I’m going to keep trying until I can’t go further. I don’t look forward to the process of dying but I’m pretty well acquainted with this subject that I know I will succeed as others have before me.
Hi FutureDreamer, nice to hear from you on here. I’d like to share a little, I’ve been through some of the same crap, so your post kind of reminded me.
I’ve been hoping, praying to commit since I was 12 years old. My plan was real simple and easy, I would wait so patiently until legal age to buy a gun and then kill myself in a nice quiet place away from the townies. I graduate high school and sell all of my belongings but still don’t have enough for a gun. To my dismay, after never anticipating to work a day in my life, I have to get a job for this one reason: to get the gun that will end my life.
I had been forced into the mental hospital before because I was coaxed into accidentally telling someone that I was going to commit suicide. Kind of like a “oh you can trust me” but really you can’t trust them at all. At the time I didn’t see it as a big deal, I was basically stating a fact in a way to say goodbye. But I never stopped to think that after that, I could no longer buy the gun I needed for everything to work out the way I planned.
Also sometimes people will get the wrong impression and think because you want to commit suicide by gun you are automatically homocidal, which I don’t like, I would never kill anyone else!
So then things started getting funny.
I got this job because a gun is 300$. It is my first job no big deal. I plan to only work 3 or so months just to get enough for this gun so I can end my life. Then I think oh I’m starting to like it and decide I’ll stick around a bit. After a few more months of that, the coworkers start acting funny, I think I better take my next check and then get my gun. Around the day after that, the lady fires me.
I put in applications and go to a LOT of different interviews and all this shit and I really only just need 300$. My mom is complaining a lot at the time saying I am expensive and stuff so I say things like, “I really can’t survive without the tiny amount of money you are giving me.. if you want to stop giving me money why don’t you just give me 300$ now and I’ll never need a single penny again.” Of course that gets me forced back into the mental unit. Where things start getting funnier. They give me a funny diagnosis and threaten to gag me because I kicked a chair and threw my milk cup. They put me on an antipsychotic (I’ve never been psychotic) and I gain 50 pounds in three months. Ok that’s a little funny. Of course I already hated myself, what more did I need – to become obese for them?
Honestly, I never intended to work, so I can honestly say I’ve only worked to be able to kill myself with the earnings. I intended to kill myself on my 18th birthday before ever moving to that stage of after high school, college, work mirage of horseshit.
Two years go by and things start getting funnier. I start getting random death threats from random kids. I start getting called random names and basically am just as alienated and discriminated against as I was in all those job interviews they never hired me to.
FINALLY, I got a Christmas present that a little boy would love so much that he’d trade his shotgun for. An. XBOX ONE!! No background check, nothing. It was the most amazing moment of my life. Everything I ever wanted was finally about to happen for me. I was now 21 and had been waiting since 12!! Of course I could have went at this differently but I saw it as potentially the only oppurtunity I would ever have to make my dreams come true. (I still had no job, no house, the nothing I’ve always had, but I did have this Xbox one.) I happened to have a rental car that night and was set to get my real car back the next night. Suppose I had not had the rental then I immediately would have got out of dodge and shot myself somewhere far, far away.
Sadly, what happened was… I had to stay out all night to turn my rental car in the next day to transfer my shotgun into my other car. I start thinking like “I bet some dumb motherlucker will follow me.. I bet some imbecilic piece of shit is monitoring me right now.” Because I have a lot of people who want to come and jump in and say they are my friend or my family but they aren’t, you know? So they’ll jump in whenever they want and do anything just to get in my way…. I start really praying, you know. Like so many people could delusionnaly be like “the right thing to do is follow this woman and stop her,” but it’s really not the right thing to do, right? It’s all for their benefit and not for mine.. at all. So i stay out the night which is not unusual for me. But when I get to the car place to exchange my rental. I am waiting for my escort that I have to sneak around to check me out and a cop pulls up. First thought is “Which one of these terrible spying bastards is reporting me?” Like HOW WOULD SOMEONE KNOW THAT I HAD A GUN IN MY TRUNK unless they were literally spying on me.
To my relief, they leave quickly and just say “oh checkin cause the clerk in the building didn’t want you in his lot.” I was terrified they would search me. How am I going to explain that I have to commit suicide because I have a terrible horrible life so I’ve chosen a better way? And not have it be so controversial that they have to chain me up and forcefeed me pills for all three meals…
They leave and I move the gun to my trunk of my real car. I could have gone then and done what I needed to do but I was out all night. I decided I’d better take one last nap before I have to do all that work of killing myself…..
Apparently I was being spied on and some obsessive stalker of mine let my mom know that I had a gun in my trunk. Damn, I’d been waiting on that day for so long….. I had nothing else in my life I’d ever been happy about and this was finally everything I ever wanted about to come true. I’d already said all of my goodbyes 4 or so years earlier. I didn’t know anyone would still be following me at a distance. So they took my gun that I used all my life savings on.
Then things got funny. I was forced into mental hospital for 28 days and I’m not sure but I’m pretty sure I was raped while sedated on ambien. Big woop, but um, gross? So I got home and threw away a bunch of clothes that the rapist might have seen me wearing. Then they put me on another antipsychotic and I gain 20 more pounds in two months. I started at 150, then I got to 220 for them. Mm that’s some good pill.
It just gets funnier.
One day I stop at the store and buy a pocket knife, of course not really what I needed, but good enough. The little teenager working there tells her little boyfriend that I said I was going to stab someone. I didn’t say anything, but cops show up as I’m about to leave for dinner and I am arrested for the first time. 700$ bail, house arrest. All that nice stuff.
Here I am again, 22, just minding my own business trying to figure out a way to kill myself with no money, no gun, no help. I start having these terrible nightmares where men are forcing me to have intercourse with them when I really would never be interested in ever having any sort of intercourse in my life….. I have this nightmare two cops are raping me while talking about identity theft.. I have this dream all these sick dogs are lying around and these ugly men are ejaculating on me.. I have this dream that I’m pissing on the side of a maverick building (I never have) and the men walk out to attack me as I leave and then cops pull up behind me……. then about a week later I am followed and of course, arrested. I think someone is spying. I don’t know why they would report me I had never done anything to them or even spoken to them…. but then I am in jail. They told me it was someone from the gas station. Great ?
They are going to take my license (just for a month) and I know I couldn’t survive without it and I have this terrible nightmare a woman is licking my a-hole… (so I was trying to get my cdl and buy a boat but then this stuff started happening in between trying to legitimately kill myself. This was a DUI. I was barely 22.) then I decide what I’ll have to do is quick run for the nearest high bridge and jump. (I’d been thinking about a way to get to San Francisco bridge all year but that didnt seem feasible.) so I had to have my last big night out before committing,
I drank a bottle of wine on a dead-end corner and drive home to get ready the next day for the drive three hours to the nearest bridge. Oh no, on the way home, it’s only been a month and a half and they’re giving me another DUI! Now they have my licensed suspended for a year. I slam my head against the cement in the cell and I crack open my skull. I pull out all the stops and overdose on all the pills I had collected from my January stay in the unit (It was now October and I would never take those pills as prescribed again. They ruined me entirely.)
Of course.. I wouldn’t have took the pills had I not thought I would really die. I had been ready for 11 years to commit, but this was just the push I needed. I thought all I’d have to do is take them then I’d fall asleep and not wake up. Instead I started just feeling funny, really weak… and in pain. Then they forced me to go to ER where I had to get liquids all night 😀 I probably would have been fine without going to the ER, but I accidentally told someone. Just because I was scared and had no one and I couldn’t fall asleep. If I could, I probably would have woken up just fine on my own.
Then I get home from the ER the next afternoon, and finally get to sleep… I start waking up on fire. I didn’t know why my body was burning. I also come to find out I have no balance and can’t stand very well on my two feet. I feel more like I should be on all fours or something. I go back to sleep and start waking up every thirty or so minutes literally on fire. I keep thinking if I was going to die, now would be the time.
Then it gets funny and they put me in the mental hospital again when I say I’m going to the homeless shelter. I’ve never wanted to stay with my mother, but have had to out of no real.. other.. options. (Except suicide)
I have dreams this chick working there is trying to make out with me and that I’m sucking on a tit of a random girl I am staying in the room of. Then I have sleep paralysis for the first time and it’s like someone is choking me as a porcelain doll I got for my 10th or so birthday is rattling in my face. It was insulting and weird because I was actually actively participating and communicating which I had never done before in the mental hospital but that time they gave me a funny autism diagnosis 😉
Oh well, I can just leave but this time save a “actually lethal” dose of the pills they give me for when I’ll need to figure out how to commit. Based off lostallhope, of course.
Then I get home and I have to walk everywhere. One day I lug home about 30 pounds of groceries about ten miles home from ridleys. I end up walking 1,000 miles that year. And honestly the only good thing I can say about it was that I lost the 70 pounds that their pills gave me 🙂
It just gets funnier though. I keep having those terrible dreams that men are just randomly raping me. One dream I had this guy forced me to grab his genitals, then the next dream he forces me to put it inside of me, then another time some old people are at a water park and there’s pregnancy tests, then I have a dream someone is putting his dick in my a-hole underwater. That’s when I shut down and I haven’t been able to walk, read, or eat a healthy meal. (Prior to that I had walked 1,000 miles, about 5-7 miles a day and was vegan for a good 9 months and read every day.) Now all I can do is eat fast food. The last time I walked was the day after that when I walked 13 miles to the cliff I suppose I was going to jump off, but it wasn’t an ideal cliff. That was November 2017. I start slamming my head against my hands and all sorts of things trying to kill myself by blunt force trauma. Then my mom will threaten hospitalization so I will just hit myself harder. I don’t mean for her to see it, you know she is just always there.
Then I started doing something for myself I was going to record a musical album and it was going to be the last thing I did before I ended my life. Then I went and bought a guitars and keyboard but the guy in the dream who raped me and forced me to grab his dick touched my guitar and told me I could never play it, so I had to sell my brand new guitar and keyboard and I sold my entire record collection and just about everything else I ever had. Recently I started tossing my books because I’ll probably never be able to read again.
But since then, at least I have a suicide method that will actually work, when I need it. I think I might as well now that I am completely maimed…. I’ve been putting it off attempting since that rape… but I am completely ready to kill myself.. I’ve never had anything to stay alive for and I like those who have already passed for more than I’d ever like the people who are alive….
Is this a literary project? Are you a writer? This doesn’t seem believable.
Like, any real human being who is not a character in a work of literature, has heard of gravity. And ligatures. And other stuff.
I could write more about all the terrible things that have happened to me the last few years especially. Like I could just keep going and going, but better to keep it short and sweet before my suicide..
You post long blocks of your story, mostly telling the same things although you haven’t brought up the night terror aspect of the assaults in awhile, on multiple posts you come across even when its not entirely related to the OP. Which part of that is “short and sweet”?
Each post is clean slate. I meant it as a way to ask advice from OP, but kind of relate with their job troubles and inability to get disability or unemployment and all that when already struggling so much.
So why not actually keep it short and sweet when someone else writes a post and maybe offer advice to them, and seek your own in your own post? For example, here, your writing is longer than the original post and aside from the first couple lines is all about you. There’s briefer ways to relate to people who post writing about Their own troubles.
Oh and an edit to that, not the kind of advice you shared when after reading a post that had nothing wrong with it told the poster they should suicide and gave a detailed method how. Cuz that’s not actually advice.
I don’t know why you’re mad. It did end up becoming rather long I thought about making my own post. But I wanted advice from the OP. I didn’t give them advice and I also didn’t tell them to kill themselves. I said, “I am going to kill MY self and I have been waiting to kill myself by shotgun shell to the head through mouth for 13 years.”
And that’s the point I’m making. Why talk only about yourself in a long comment that doesn’t relate back to the OP instead of writing your own thing? You don’t even ask for advice, just go on a long tangent. Spamming seems like a trolling behavior.
Oh no, this was on a post where someone was talking about how their ex before breaking told them to kill themselves and at the end said they wanted comfort in their life and to be ok.
You said if you were them youd kill yourself already because just by reading their short post you hated them. And then said “all you have to do is get ” details.
That comment is still in the trash if you need to look at it.
So if that comment which sparked the thought of you being a troll is your idea of advice, and comments like this compound that thought, which yes the idea of trolls here does make me upset, then no it’s not actual advice. Unless you want folks to advise that to you, which i doubt.
I really hate to say it but alot of the stuff this person says doesn’t really add up at all! Oh well. Maybe that’s just how they are. But in my opinion its really rude to write very long winded paragraph comments solely about yourself on someone elses post. Why don’t you just write your own post and be done with it?
I know many also think I’m a troll but man this person almost reeks of troll. Whats with all the long winded super dramatic stories? Also isn’t there a recent post where you wrote about buying a gun back in 2006? Aren’t you younger than me lol? I don’t know the gun laws but can kids even legally buy guns by themselves??????? According to your age, you’d be a kid back in 2006. I don’t really really know how someone’s life could actually be like this. Seems more like fiction. I don’t want to offend but it really does come across that way.
I haven’t really been following. I think that shotgun comment is in the trash.
By the way, I thought you were female and a lesbian. And in the looooong paragraph above you mention that you are a boy. Huh??? Are you genderfluid?
Ah, no. The shotgun comment isn’t in the trash. The comment that’s in the trash is where it seems to tried to entice someone to kill themselves and told them that you hate them and they should die. I wonder what that post that comment was made on though. Anyway this is really bullying in my eyes.
The post the comment was deleted from was the last one by jano-11. The comments dont match the amount shown because replies to deleted comments disappear from the screen.
To be fair none of my comments here have related back to the OP, so they technically don’t belong here either.
Cause has had mostly more consistency than normal trolls in what she has to say, and I know this isn’t the place to find stable individuals, but it’s easy to get sensitive to folks wanting to mess with others here and she’s thrown up a couple red flags for me. The reply to jano tho, yeah that was messed up.
I think 2006 is when she’s said she first wanted to die.