i can’t write anymore. I don’t even have it in me to write poetry. I’m inches from another relapse and the only thing stopping me was the poems. I’ve got no more inspiration. I’m so low I can’t even express it. I want to go back. To cutting. To drugs. To cigarettes. To not giving a fuck about anything. Because this forcing myself to care about life is draining me. Maybe another attempt will set me straight. Maybe if I can just solidify my depression, I’ll never have to be happy again. I’m sure I’ve got more than enough razors and pills. Maybe I’ll drop a toaster in the bathtub. That’s one I’ve yet to try. I’m so sick of life. Honestly if I got hit by a truck tomorrow I don’t care. Im afraid to feel happy, and when Im happy I get sad soon after. yet I’m miserable feeling miserable. I give up. I’m finished. My 11:11 wish tonight: the same as it always is. Death.
share your suicide story
Report Post
Please log in to report posts
3 comments
i just had my last string cut tonight that was giving me a reason not to dive headfirst into drugs and alcohol….only have adderall at the moment….glad ive been working these two jobs…gotta have the saving to stock up on some pain killers and liqour….finally gonna leave this reality one way or another…cant bring myself to kill myself…then im going to fade my existence to the point of it not actually being me living my life.
I feel the same way. I want to end this soon but I am so afraid that I will fail (like I do at everything else) and will end up as a vegetable. Still living and fucking up everyones lives.
lostchild, you sould always do what you want, enjoy the life as YOU want to. Want to get high? Chase some wild birds? Jump off a cliff (with or without a parachute)? Go ahead, be free, be wild. No one is in charge of your actions and your freedom. Just try to stay out of trouble with the law..or not, go smash a car with a bat from the person that makes you feel depressed while singing ‘Breaking the law’ from Judas Priest. At least that’s what made me feel good.