It’s nearly been 2 years now since I was last here. Things never got better since the last time I attempted and posted here.
I tried attempting again last year July, but got caught and the things I was going to use were taken and hidden or thrown away. After that, it was just covered up.
I met someone in September of last year, we started dating, and then 3 months in, he started cheating and I found out in March this year along with the fact that he lied about how old he is. It was incredibly toxic and I planned on attempting while we were still together but wanted to keep trying in hopes things would be fixed if I did so. I am now back to making another attempt.
I’ve basically thrown myself away after I found out. I decided to look for sugar daddies and sell myself online to old men for money and the first man I met turned out to be a real pedophile, so just 3-4 days ago when I found out, I had to report him to NCMEC.
My relationship with my family hasn’t moved at all. In fact, it’s just gotten faker and we are no longer close at all. There is no longer so much resentment against them on my side, I just don’t trust anything they say or do. My family relationships was the main reason why I made the attempt in 2022.
Unlike my last few attempts, I have good friends. Friends that genuinely hope I get better and friends that I genuinely hope make it through the things they’re going through. I really love them, however, I’ve grown ungrateful and I feel terrible about it. I’ve been rung out of life energy and I don’t have any courage or even any want to keep living. I am content in the fact that I will die soon. Like last time, it’s relieving. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that gets me through the day.
I’ve lost interest in everything I had interest in before. I mean, I still write, but mostly with the intention that someone will find it after I die and put together everything I’ve left behind and understand why I did this. When someone asks me what I like to do, I seem to talk about my hobbies in the past-tense and it kind of fills me with a feeling of nostalgia instead of excitement and then it dies down into realization and the fact that I’ve failed to die and am still here and no longer have any desires or passions or hobbies to truthfully tell people to make me seem like a functional human-being. I’m just a shell that needs to be emptied but I can’t say that without it being too weird or without raising concern that I don’t need getting in the way. All I know is that I’ve tried getting better, and it was spoiled every time. Either by my own self or someone else.
To be honest, I completely forgot about this site. It’s disappointing to go back and read the posts of me saying goodbye when I shouldn’t be here at all. This time, I think, if I fail, I will try and try again. If my plan A doesn’t work this time, I have a back-up plan.
I’m running out of money, but getting a job doesn’t make sense when I plan on dying so I’m just letting it go. I’m thinking maybe I won’t do it at home and I may just travel by bus to another state in a hotel once I get my money back up somehow.
I still want to get my will put together and get my friends some gifts for their birthdays that are coming up before and after I go and I have a few trips I’m taking to some of my favorite places near home.
However, I’ve also thought about the situation I could possibly be in if both my plans fail again. I’m not sure if I’ll try again, and I don’t know if I’ll be found, but if I am, I’ll most likely be put in a hospital which would render my ability to do other things independently if I continue to live. I’ll also probably get a job, raise more money, and then travel somewhere to try again. I don’t know though. This time (and I’m really hoping), everything will be okay. I think things will work out and I’ll be okay and everything and everyone that’s left behind will find things will be just the same, if not better without me.
2 comments
In some weird way I kind of admire your tenacity. You seem very dedicated to the idea of ending your life and I just wanted to say, I hope there is solace at the end of your journey. I think that’s what all of us are hoping for.
I agree with listless, I admire the tenacity. Anticipating failure, but not being defeated by it, that’s a really good quality to have.
When I was younger, I feel like some of the women I dated wanted me to be their sugar daddy. I wasn’t quite well off enough to pull it off…. it made me sad, I always just wanted to make people happy. I didn’t care for young enough girls for long though. I tried to date young girls when I was young myself…. and my big issue was them not knowing what they wanted.
Which is just kind of aside. I’m married now, settled. A pretty lady still catches my eye now and then, I’m not dead. I just don’t do much about it. Heck, a pretty man catches my eye very rarely. Or a pretty I don’t know what gender, the city is an interesting place for romance. Sultry eyes, I don’t care who has em.
Why July do you think? I know I hate summer, especially where I live so I’m trying to correct that rather than the being alive bit. Because theoretically it’s easier to move than to kill myself. So they say.
I want to move where the winters are miserable, dark cold and hopeless like the pit of my soul. Where summers barely scratch that. Where people huddle together for warmth, because the cold brings death….. readily available death has a real appeal to me, I suspect it would for a lot of us here.
The heat isn’t as easy to get it out of, I’ve tried. Tried to push myself to heat exhaustion, my body is too well adapted. I can’t seem to develop a heart condition which would be the surest way to increase my likelyhood that the heat would provide me that final exit.
Maybe the cold wouldn’t either, but at least it would be possible to escape.