Thrice, now, I’ve tied a knot and tried to use it to end things, and thrice, its never pulled tight enough. I don’t understand why my body is so durable, when it should be frail and weak. I have no doubts about wanting to die, so its not a lack of conviction that stops me, but either a lack of energy, or a lack of knowledge. I want to know how to get rid of myself once and for all- a painless way that inflicts minimal trauma on others. A suicide that affects no-one is impossible, but I can try.
I’ve been thinking about suicide for years, but I wouldn’t have called myself suicidal until November 15th, 2019. That was when I realised that I would never be enough for you, or anyone else. The only silver lining I ever received was fleeting, and each day is now a new lifetime low for my self-esteem. I wish I hadn’t been so hopeful. Hopeful that you would change your mind, or that something spontaneous would happen. Had I not been, maybe I would have had more practice, and finally finished things.
I was inspired when I noticed a post here yesterday, mentioning that their suicide note wouldn’t contain what they really wanted to say. Maybe I’ll say what I want to here. Maybe I won’t have the guts to blame anyone else for my feeling this way, even anonymously- or maybe it’s just that I do believe everything that happened is my fault.
Bourbon, you’re an asshole. Probably the only one I blame at all. Like seriously I think you exclusively could have driven me to this.
Phi, I wish I never knew you. I wish you never made me fall for you. I wish I never asked you out. I wish I never opened that box that showed me what life could be like. I wish I had remained a hermit. I wish I could trust you when you said that it wasn’t my fault that you broke up with me. I wish that I didn’t join the dots so soon. I wish it really wasn’t my fault. Because it was. The only reason you gave that wasn’t invalidated by dating him was me. I wasn’t enough for you. I was too much for you. He was just right.
For everyone else in that group, I wish one of you had said something back then, when it could have done something. I wish anyone had cared enough to ask me if I was ok. I wasn’t, and I’m not now, but words don’t really mean anything anymore. Even when I type this I feel as if I’m on autopilot, and sometimes that’s how it feels when people try to tell me things will get better. They haven’t, bar once, so why should
Silver lining, you made me feel wanted when I felt that no-one could love me. You seemed perfect for me. No-one else had ever accepted me with my flaws, and I finally felt like with you I had a place in the world. For whatever reason, the world didn’t agree. Your life got better, I’m sure, but better at the cost of mine. I hope you don’t blame yourself though. It’s not your fault, and you deserve a good life.
I’m not willing to carry on through this though. Not for you, not for anyone else I mentioned, nor anyone I didn’t. If I was able to kill myself properly, I’d already be dead by now. I lament the possibility that I won’t actually get to see how long it would take for people to get over me, but it’s fine. Stopping the suffering is more important to me now. A long time ago I would have apologised, but I don’t think that’s appropriate anymore. This is what I want to do, and I can’t apologise for that. Hopefully I can just die, and not have to deal with these feelings again.