Alright, so i guess this is my story…
I dont really know, where, when or why this started to happen.
Normally, some kind of trauma, disease, or other form of bad thing happened to the people, that i knew were suicidal.
For myself, i can’t really find that really bad thing, that caused everything to go down. I grew up in a house together with my family (father, mother and sister), who made a loving and caring environment. Everything seemed fine, I can still remember single moments of me being in Kindergarten, happy.
Somehow, there were things that, while looking back, were signs of unhappiness, starting with my weight. As a little toddler, i seemed to have a normal weight, when somehow, I started to gain weight, to a level of being chubby. That weight gain was recognized in the 3rd grade (atleast my parents told me so). With my mother working in nutritionn science and my father being a pediatrician, my parents really had the best expertise for making me grow up healthily. I would get many balanced dishes cooked and made a lot of exercise, which i was being ambitous about. Right now, i cant even count all the types of sports/exercizes, i tried.
I really don’t know why, but in elementary school i started to not let people take part in my life, which lead to me being more lonely overall. I had gained more weight and also started peeing myself in the night again. (I don’t know if it was that i wasn’t feeling myself, maybe that would be an explanation of those behaviours(im still searching for an explanation)).
So, there were in hindsight, 2 really important memories, from elementary:
I remember, that i used to feel alone all in a sudden, when i realized, i was walking alone over the school yard during breaks, which also was a thing that started in 3rd grade. It made me wonder, since i had had some good and bad friends over the time there and suddenly i was feeling alone.
The other event was, that i had a class back then, which was basically the foundation for physics, biology and chemistry in high school, where we had some kind of sex education, where we should write down 5 reasons why we like our own gender. Basically, this was important for my development, since i did not have any reason liking my gender.
After elementary, i was going to high school, where thing started to get worse. I dont really know, if the things happening to me there could be called bullying, since it was mostly harmless and it seemed like (mostly) everybody in our class seemed to do the things they did also to each other. Since i was chubby and had that pee problem (until 10th grade unfortunately), i was an outsider. Over sports and in my class, i met 2 friends. One of them is an extroverted type of guy, the other, from my class, was more introverted. I always had that strange feeling, when i was around one of them, that i had those 2 sides in me, being like them, which made me think, i’d have to choose, who i want to be. There was another “friend”, that i had knowm from pre Kindergarten, which was going in the class below mine, which both of my friends knew. I dont know, what his problem with me was, but at some point, he tried to turn those 2 friends against me, trying to isolate me aswell. Luckily, after some intrigues of him, one of my friends stood up for me and abandoned him. Since i was already isolating myself, i was facading even more back then. The reason i’m here now, started to surface more and more, since i couldn’t facade everything. I remember having a talk about how i feel that my life is meaningless to me, when i was 10-13. I also started to flee in the virtual world (youtube, games, co.) and i tried out sooooo many sporttypes, always lasting, for a maximum of 2 years, since i tried to find a vent.
At some point, i consumed that much media, that my parents forced me into a meeting with an addiction counselller (i was unscrewing locks, my parents put, to stop me from putting the router back to power line and at some point i even told the friend from school, that i was at episode 400 of a series, we were watching, when really i had been at episode 650 within weeks). I was really afraid of him locking me away, or something, so i told him, nothing was wrong, then he told me, that somehow i’d have to show my parents that. I wasnt really respecting the boundaries, that had been set by them and it was an ongoing fight over media consumption, until my parents couldnt do anything anymore when i turned 18 and told them, if they were to put off the internet, i’d just buy an own connection to the internet.
Since i was on a desperate search, not even knowing back then in high school, what even was wrong, i had many ideas, on how i could create a live, that would fullfill me. First, i thought, i could be self sufficent, buying my own piece of land later on, growing my own crops to feed me, generating my own power, being alone. Later, i turned into computer science, since i was on the media so often. Back then, i tried to justify(for my parents, but also and especcialy to me) the media usage, with being creative (discovered minecraft) and learning new stuff (watching a lot of documentarys). I was mostly avoiding the healthy food i was getting at home from then on and not opening up to anybody about suicidal thoughts and plans i had back then from time to time. Always tried to mask my true self, not even know, what that is – until now – from everybody.
In the last years over my school career, my parents often tried to put me into another school, to take away pressure, because they were seeing, that i was not having a good time. My interest in things in the real world started to decrease and in the last years until the a-level, it was just a permanent fight, trying to keep up with school, while being so miserable. There were still phases, where i was able to keep it up, but at some point, every routine broke. I haven’t mentioned that yet, but my sleep rythm, was also deteriating, firstly resulting in me being awake, for until deep in the night.
The nutrition soon came to a critical point, where i was at 135 kilogram with 180 length. I finished my a levels and made my drivers license with something that felt like it was my last reserve of strength, but i was feeling free, since i now did not have anything pulling me back from living (or not living) live on my own terms. I can still remember, that i just lay in bed at some point while my finals were about to happen in the next months, completely numbed out, not even able to move. At that point, i was grateful for my father noticing it and offering me a meeting with a psychologist, where i got a place fast, because of his connections. I told the psychologist how the only thing in my day, that made me happy was me stuffing some crappy food inside of me. He told me to do a diary, which i made some attempts on, but i couldnt really go after a routine back then, since it would disperse over a few weeks. I only saw him 2 times.
BUT i had the oportunity, of fleeing from that environment, as if that would have changed anything. So i tried to get as far as i could. Also i was trying to have a good impact on this world, so i chose (together with my very protecting mom) a voluntary service. I had heard a lot good about canada back then, but with the organisation, that i was doing the service with, canada was already taken. I got an offer, to go to Uganda and instantly accepted that, before my parents could say anything about it ( they would have tried to keep me somewhere in europe, near to germany, where i am from, if i hadn’t).
Meeting other volunteers was a refreshing experience, since the mindset of them was also about having a good impact. Many of them had already done a lot of good things in their school which firstly intimitated me and made me question, if i was capable, to be as good as them, since i didn’t achieve anything back then in my life. But i opened up about that to another volunteer, who was giving me a lot of confidence back, as to everybody, can always start to make good things.
So i was in Uganda for 13 Months, volunteering in an NGO hospital, mostly playing with the children at work there, since i didnt have any medical skills. The volunteer, that i was replacing showed me everything to know there and for a few weeks, i was keeping up a good diet (since the doctor, that checked me, before i went there told me, i’d have to go to a health cure for my obesity, if my weight wouldnt change until i come back), building up a live there, when… of course, the routine failed. The appartment, i was in was 6squaremeters big, so i moved in a bigger one after a quarter year with an ex volunteer from uganda in germany. Since i was only leaving the house every few days at night to get some food (wasnt capable of more), i wasnt seen on work, for sometimes 6 weeks in a row, firstly, my boss, who was a great guy, started looking for me, from time to time, but since i couldnt really explain it, that stopped at some point. I was afraid to leave the house, because sometimes it would be to overwhelming for me, being called muzungu (=white person) from all sides, even though, it is not by any means a term to discriminate someone, as some reading this might think.
Due to me, not being able to go out, being so energyless, sometimes, i did not eat in days, because i ran out of food. That lead to me loosing 40 kilos in 3 months. Sometimes, i was so weak, that i couldn’t even stand properly, just keep falling down (shower experience), or collapsing at work, when i could go there. Since my workplace was a very friendly place and everyone had a high opinion on it, i was feeling, like i could not justify me being miserable, while being in such a good place, which is, why i did not tell any volunteer coordinator, workmate, or volunteer about my situation. In Uganda, i firstly went into a chat forum for people with sadness, which was an experience, that gave me a lot at first. Having absolute no close contact in Uganda, execpt for one friend, that i was phonecalling with from germany, i met many people, that were also miserable, just like me. I had a really strong feeling of guilt at that point, because i was not attending work, doing any good, so i tried to make it good online atleast, playing the counsellor, for many of the people there, when really, i was avoiding my own problems, with solving others problems. Most of the times, i was just as clueless, as them, leading to me, giving them bad advice. I was trying to research many of the mental disorders some of them had through wikipedia,…, trying to convince myself, I was helping not only them, but also me, by finding a way out of misery through googling. Who would’ve thought, that was absoulte useless?
At some point, i had enough. I had been planing other forms of suicide, like my youth-self, making me crazy by getting a disorder like schizophrenia to make me loose my mind, not beeing able to even realize the simplest thing, so i couldnt even realize anything, therefore, not suffer. For that plan i practically begged my father to get me a malaria prescription, which might cause that, even before i went to uganda. My father though, being a doctor gave me another med, which was less risky, since the one i wanted so bad, was more or less banned from the market. So i thought i’d do another method which would lead to bleed to death. I did not really know what i wanted to do before dying, so i planned to clean up my room first and write a farewell note, before doing it. Since i hadn’t been able to clean up my room for the last few months, it was a total mess, so i spend hours on that, eventually being so tired, that i just had to lay down and slept away. After waking up again, i did not know, if i still wanted to end my life. I was not feeling as miserable, probably also, because i finally cleaned up and took care of something in my life. I was still in that chat and playing videogames, but the chat took over more and more, until i was online and active there all the time, i was awake. Sometimes, i ran to the bathroom, realizing, i held back my urge to urinate for hours, or buying food from time to time, as fast, as i could. Internet was also quite expensive. My roommate got an oven as a present at some point, which had rats in it. Those really made me freak out, they started to attack during the night, because they wanted to defend their “hunting ground”. It was really hard for me to eat, i had strong feelings of guilt over the food, it was bought from money, people donated to me/my organisation and funded by the government, to support the voluntary service, which i was not attending. At some point i had some kind of panic attack from that guilt, making me laugh and cry at the same time, due to the intensity of those emotions. I had also met so many people in the chat with so heavy fates, which also burdened me. I can still remember the final meetup with the other volunteers in the capitol, Kampala, where we went to the casino together, doubling our money and getting a lot of free food and drinks. That was one of the happiest experiences i ever had, due to the contrast to the isolation and misery from before.
In Uganda, i also tried working on my personality, trying to get more extroverted and self consious, by playing a version of me like that, to become like it after time. At some point i wasnt able to keep up with that extroversy, even though i still remember things, that i do until today on body language level, that make me seem more extro, than i am (?). That Question mark is there, because i still dont know who i am. The Identity was a thing, that i had a special bond to, developing even stronger over the service and the chat. I learned a lot.
When i returned to Germany, i was very grateful for many things, that i thought to be sure, having a warm shower or a washing machine,… . Since those guilt feelings were not letting me go and everybody asking about how Uganda was, which was reminding of my guilt, i went onto another vent. Losing weight. I controlled my daily intake of kcalories to not surpass 180, at some point, not even allowing any food per day (or for a week). At that point, i wanted to orient myself, what i wanted to do, so i had an intern at a computer repair store (unpaid). My Boss always told me how generous and noble he is, while not even paying me for my work, or keeping the tips, because “i had made to many mistakes”, in a job, nobody ever teached me. I lost another 20 -25 kg over a month or two going from almost adipositas III before uganda to now almost underweight (72kg). I was still active in the chat and now reaching out for help. Professionals diagnosed me with many disorders, i was getting obsessed with. Even until now, i cannot see my identity without the diagnosises, that i got. If you want to look it up, ill put the icd codes here for the diagnoses i got(F12.2, F17.2, F25.0, F32 (many f32, also double depression), F42.9, F50.9, F64.0, F43,1, F60.31, narcisistic features).
In the Chat, i met a person, that i thought i could help. Things were getting more critical over time though and even though we tried to be there for another. I finally convinced her to go to the psychiatry, to get help. Since i was not giving up, i was talking to her, even after she got out of the psychiatry, when she was still unstable (they suspended her on her second stay from the hospital for trying to kill herself, which i dont understand until today?!?!). I was on the phone with her for sometimes up to 12 hours per day, talking her out of her suicidal plans, or to get her not to do the next step on her suicide plan. At some point, i felt so miserable, that i couldn’ handle it anymore, so i went to the psychiatry (different one than hers). Just before that was the first time, i opened up to the people around me about my issues firstly. I still did not say a signle word about how miserable i was to anyone close to me. I dont know why, and i will regret doing that for the rest of my life probably, but i agreed to a suicide together with her, while in the psychiatry. After i got out, why tried to do it in a forest by overdosing the meds from the hospital together with a pill, i knew were deadly in high dosages. Since we took pills to sleep while the other pills kill us first, i was getting sleepy in the wintery forest, that we wanted to do it in and finally started hallucinating from the pills. What happenened then, i only got told by her, since i dont remember. It ended in both of us being on ICU for one day. They forced me and her for a meeting with a psychiatrist. She was going into the psychiatry, where she already was and the doctor let her just walk home. I was put into the enclosed part. After i came out from there, I wasnt planning on living, so i tried the same thing again. I realized, after i took the sleep meds, that i was to afraid, to end my live, so i went back home. Both of the times, I was hospitalized, i thought, i would get better, and i also tried to help as many people there, just like i did in the chat (which is more damaging than helping in hindsight).
I’m sometimes unsure of my actions, if of who is doing it. It feels, like another person is controlling the body, which explains my obsession with Dissociative Identity Disorder(short DID) (which i dont have). Im also unsure, if that is just me, role playing, trying to convince myself, i have DID. Im unsure about what is me and how to be honest with myself and others, even though, that is something, that i thought, i’d value strongly. So at a train station, i had a weird impulse, as if someone was trying to take over my body and throw it infront of a train. Until today, i do not know, if that was just my imagination, or some kind of disorder?
However, after the last plan i had started with the pills, i went to the second psychiatry in my city, which was much bigger. I was told there, how the chat, i was using was toxic for me. Also, someone, who saved me and that girl from our suicide plan, killed himself, while i was in there(he was also from the chat and a really great guy. May his soul rest in peace). I witnessed many suicide attempts of people over the chat (that i didnt mention also) and there were some emotionally manipulative people aswell, which did their part to pull me down more. There was one contact, which i have until today, that was not toxic. So after 3 Months of being hospitalized, they told me, i should go into a psychosomatic hospital. Said- done. 6 Months later, i was going there. My Father was helping me getting the paperwork done and i feel really bad that i was so harsh to my parents. I was online-researching about all those disorders mentioned above, that they often come with being raised badly, which is why i did not speak to them for the most part. Also, at that point i figured out my transsexuality. It was the third time i came out to them on that and they were acting, as if I just told them it for the first time. Suicidality was already an everyday thing for me, for so long now and i had been wanting to give that clinic atleast a try. While waiting on them to have a free bed there, i had my first phase, where i exessivley used cannabis. In the psychosomatic hospital, i met a girl, which was soon my first girlfriend. And again, that contrast of being so low before and now feeling such intense love, was astonishing. Unluckily, we both had problems, which in the end lead to the end of the relationship after three months.
I moved (essentially because i wanted to be with her and far from hom) north. It was a real struggle finding an appartment and i was sleeping on my friends/sisters couch for some time. Then i moved from flat share to flat share(always limited for one month). I had, especially after the break up a few more suicidal plans, that i tried to execute. Obviously all of them failed. Mostly, because i were and still am too afraid of the death, or something like that, i cant put in words. I had 2 times, where i used cannabis exessevly over months again, to cope and a few more suicide plans, otherwise, living with suicidality on a daily basis. Here, in the new city, i tried to talk to a professional again, but it seems, that she does not want to do therapy with me. I think i understand why now (after a hospitalization for coming of the cannabis).
Unlike most people, i do not have anything in my life, that seems to be enough for me to stand up and fight for. I can talk about my plans for the future, as you have read, but when it comes to staying commited, i always fail. There seems to be no goal in my life and no identity in me, which makes the rationally conclude, that i want to die. But everytime i try (last was a week ago, by strangulation), there is that uncontrollable fear, which makes me chicken out of the plan. Im not saying, that i have tried to commit suicide, because, at the point of no return, yet i have always taken a step back. I dont know myself, so maybe i am dangerous or harming to humanity, which would make it better for the world, if i didnt exist.
And even though this is how i think, i am still to afraid to commit.
Im still wondering, how i got here. I had a good environment, but somehow…
Im stuck inbetween wanting to end the suffering and continue to live. I dont know what to do and am not asking for advice.
I dont know if anybody has learnt anything from this, i hope, that whatever reason brought YOU here will be okay someday.