I don’t want to kill myself. I do want to die. Two sentences that I have said in my head and out loud for years. It’s not that I don’t have people who care and/or love me only, that’s the reason I don’t know if I could actually do it myself. I have recently been fully diagnosed with Bipolar 2 with psychotic symptoms.
Still something I have a hard time even thinking without some sort of unchecked rage or hysteria. It’s simple why I want to die though, really. There is no hope. I’m rotting from the brain out. All that will happen is I will fall further and further into this cesspool my mind has become until I’m that crazy bag lady you see talking to herself pushing stroller down the sidewalk. I don’t know how else to feel. What is the point of living a life that isn’t a life? I’m not even ME any more to begin with, thanks to all the damn meds I’m on. I guess this is just me needing to vent. Take it for what it is I guess. I just wish there was a way to will myself out of existence to spare my familys’ pain. I just feel if something out of my own control were to cause my death then everything would be just fine. But wait, that’s pretty sick and demented too, right?
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Very sorry for how you are feeling. For the most part I feel the same way, so you are not alone. I know it is very hard to not think about what the future holds for us and when we do we usually think of the worst case senerio. And then any hope we might feel goes right out the door. I think we have to focus more on the present and how we can make each day better then the last. I have not been diagnosed with bi-polar officially but I am being treated for it and other issues. Finding the right meds can make a big difference in how we feel and cope with life and it can take a some time to to find the right ones. I know things feel hopeles but they will get better with time and patience. I do hope things get better for you. Tc
My BP2 is med resistant. Basically, every time I find a med that begins to work it stops after a few weeks. So on to the next 2 or 3 or 5 or how ever many I may have to try at once. I have tried so hard to be hopeful but there is no happy ending. I’m stuck in a perpetual trip, and with the hallucinations to boot it’s like a never-ending nightmare I can’t wake up from. I’m either teetering on the verge of complete hysteria or in such a fog from the meds I can’t see or think straight. This is no way for anyone to live. I just wish I didn’t feel so hopeless..
Hi, you are definitely not demented for thinking those thoughts. I totally get where you’re coming from. I have a Bipolar 1 diagnosis, was diagnosed at 30, am now 52, it’s a severe form of the illness, I have been forcibly hospitalised thirty times, though have managed to remain kind-of stable for the last three years.
I would love to say something positive to you about coming to terms with this illness, that you can find a worthwhile life and relationships, manage the condition and still find life worth living. And those things would be true. But it would be a bit hypocritical, because my life is beyond fucked up, I’m struggling to get free of some of the meds but it’s almost impossible and I don’t know that the side effects are reversible even.
Reflecting on ‘living’ with a serious mental illness the other day when I was a little manic having not slept properly for two days, I felt a strange sense of calm when I basically thought to myself, actually, it’s OK to die, this is a ‘good enough’ reason. I have done my research, procured what to me is an acceptable method, and now I’m just waiting out my final few years, hoping that I can make it until my mother passes so that I don’t have to ruin what’s left of her life (she’s 82 and healthy).
This illness, and being on meds, ages you before your time, the prognosis is never good, I’ve seen friends deteriorate mentally and physically before my eyes and I am deteriorating myself. Hey I hope I’m not seriously putting my foot in my mouth saying this to you, I don’t want to depress you further! This is MY experience, I just wanted to share it. Everyone is different.
Please forgive me if I said something I shouldn’t have!
I went out tonight to catch up with an old friend. Actually, an ex-boyfriend and one, who it turns out, is still pretty important to me. We had a few drinks and caught up, and I felt good finally getting closure on a lot of things that had previously held question marks in our relationship. Well, as things always seem to happen, we ended up (long story short) talking in a public park at 2 am and then were detained by local police for trespassing. He started blaming me (the park = my idea) and now I feel as if I was right. Once again. Everything I touch turns to shit. It’s not what’s written, it’s the voices in my head. And “they” are right. I just need to finish this shit while I have the courage and the billions of extra pills to do the job. I’m no good to anyone- why bother to keep dragging out the inevitable???
Oh dear! Sorry that happened. A lot of pills won’t do the job though. Have you done some research? I’m not encouraging you to do it, I’m just saying, there’s no point in taking a random overdose.
Hope it helps some to vent though. Whatever helps.
I took a handful of Seroquel and although I knew that it wouldn’t do anything I felt better. Almost like (I would imagine) the same feeling a cutter gets when they run the blade across their skin. This isn’t healthy though. Unfortunately, I DON’T know what the best way to end things would be. I have plenty of time to be methodical and to do it right, but I don’t want it to hurt. I guess if I really wanted to do it, it wouldn’t matter how painful it was, right? All I feel is this looming invisible clock ticking and letting me know with each tick that my time until complete bat-shit is coming ever closer. How would someone go about taking their lives ( non-painlessly )?
This is the fucking story of my life! even a goddamn Suicide website doesn’t doesn’t have people on it who deem me worthy enough to respond back . what a fucking joke.. I can’t talk to friends, can’t talk to family, can’t talk to you people, what the fuck is the point!! It feels like no one understands and no one cares. All I do is let this shit build up more and more every day. I have no outlet. my therapist can’t help. The meds don’t help, because within a week, most of them are useless anyways. what the fuck am I supposed to do?? My screen name is perfect because thats all I do in my head. I scream and scream and scream and no one can hear me and no one knows how much I hurt or need help but there is nothing TO DO and nothing TO SAY. this is why I want to die. But whats the point? Obviously, none of you give a shit anyways, right?
I now you are going through hell, and need someone to “talk” to. But, please, don’t take people’s silence personally. As you know, almost everyone here is going through their own hell as well, and it’s very hard for people battling making the choice between life or death, emotionally traumatised, horribly sad, depressed, angry, etcetera, to be a very good support group, or friend to even themselves, let alone a poor, suffering stranger on the internet.
Below is the link to the a support forum for those suffering from chronic suicidality, you might have more luck there.
http://www.chronicsuicidesupport.
com/forum/index.php
Fuck it all. There’s always another link. Always another page. Always another person. I’m done.
Btw, your link cannot be found. Good looking out.
Nope. I really don’t think that wanting to die by an arbitrary occurrence is sick or demented. It’s the kind of thought that’s just another rational ideation of suicide.
Maybe you should start collecting cats, society/family/friends can work the rest out from there.
Feeling slightly less tragic today. Debating on whether I should go to work and risk the stressors, once more. I used to be a productive person. I used to be proud of myself. Now it’s also whether or not I have enough money to make it to and from the office as well. I can’t seem to get it together.