This is it. I feel it. Now is the time.
Good luck to you all. Much empathy. I love you all.
I'll tell you how it is, straight up. what you do with it is on you.
Sometimes I read posts, and I cant help but feel offended and down on myself. You know? I cant help but think that there are some ideas and opinions that just shouldnt be shared on a suicide website because of how it could effect others. If someone could read your post and feel worse about themselves because of the title or the content, that’s on the line of breaking the hate rule. God forbid someone reads something like that and then goes off to kill themselves. Please be considerate of the feelings of others before you post.
I’m curious about the average suicidality of people who post here. So, I thought I’d conduct an experiment and ask.
On a scale of 1-10, How close do you think you are to killing yourself right now? (1 being not close, 10 being very close)
EDIT: To more accurately measure degrees of suicidality, I’ll be taking fluctuation into account as well, because people feel more suicidal on some days than others. So, if your number today is different than it wouldve been yesterday or earlier in the week, that’s okay. Please feel free to share those numbers as well. So, to recap, Please share your number as it is today, and if you want, share your numbers as they have been recently as well.
I’ll keep an eye on this post, and post the resulting average of those who responded after a day or two.
Thank you to those who participate!
I didnt have a father figure growing up. I had a Dad, but he wasnt a father. He was more interested in womanizing and food. My mother was a lot like the people here; very sad all the time, hurt herself a lot, wanted to die.
I’m my own responsibility, and I understand that. At the same time, I wonder how this effected the way I turned out?
I get so anxious thinking about things sometimes that I convince myself it’s better to avoid it, even if it’s not actually that bad. Do any of you do this too?
To give an example, I’m in school for Power Engineering, and we’ve been calculating Current, Voltage, resistance, and Power throughout series circuits, parallel circuits, and combination circuits. When I first started, all of the math involved and all of the rules you had to follow in relation to electromotive force overwhelmed me! I thought for sure I was gonna fail the class. and so, when I was at home, I spent my time on Netflix, or on SP, or doing other things that were nonproductive. The thought of trying to learn something that seemed so complex discouraged me, so I avoided it all I could.
But, I cant avoid school if I want my future to look better. and at school, we practiced these calculations, and I actually put in effort and asked questions. And now, I can do these things like it’s a cake walk. I made it worse in my head than it actually was, and because of that, I didnt give myself enough time or put in enough effort to learn that things werent so bad.
I’m thinking that maybe, a lot of the things in our lives that cause depression have been a result of avoidance. Not all things, but A lot.
What do you think?
Not long ago, my Ex attempted to hang himself, and even though we arent together anymore, it really upset me.
He survived it, and when I called up to the hospital to check up on him and offer support, he just flat-out hung up on me without saying a word.
We used to be so close. Super close.
When we were still together, we were going to get married. But something got a hold of him. He stopped acting like himself, and he shut everyone out. I know it’s depression, and I know a lot of it isnt his fault. but still. Over time, things got worse and worse. I’d try to be there for him, and reassure him that he was loved by people, but he wouldnt believe it for some reason. Nothing we ever said was good enough. We all got pushed further and further away. He acted less and less like his old, cheerful, bubbly self. He broke up with me one day, and to this day, I still dont know why. I’ve had to learn to move on and let him go. and that’s been hard. Very hard. It’s like the person I used to know isnt even there anymore. It feels like he died, consumed by this…thing.
If you’re depressed, please dont shut out the people who care about you. It hurts to watch someone you care about suffer, and it hurts even more to not be able to do anything about it. After talking to someone today about it, I realized how heartbroken I still am over it. Please dont shut your loved ones out.
I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. Last night, I accidentally slept through school, as in I missed my alarm completely. I just woke up, and its 5:25pm (17:25). Havent had a lot of motivation lately.
I dont know what I’m trying to Express. Guess I’m just ranting.
I think about suicide a lot. But that isnt the same as being suicidal. We tend to use suicidal thoughts as a qualifier for being suicidal. but that’s not what that is.
I experienced being truly suicidal only once in my life, in 2012. I was 20. It was very quick. I had been severely depressed for months, on drugs, working a job I hated. One day, I walked into the woods, sat under a tree, got high, and I thought, “I’m going to kill myself in 3 days.” 3 days never went by though, because that very same day, I took an entire bottle of ambien. Was unconscious for nearly a week, woke up in ICU. It was that quick, the very same day that I decided to do it, I did it. That was my only honest-to-god suicide attempt.
I’m not suggesting that people are all alike. I am suggesting that as much pain as we are all in and as low as we are, there is a step even lower. A pain even deeper. And at that level, none of the fears of physical pain, none of the worry about hurting others, none of the hesitation exists. You just act. In my opinion (and its JUST my opinion), THAT’S being suicidal.
In my opinion, there’s a big difference between being severely depressed and being suicidal, and that difference is taking action. No ego, no thoughts about how others will think about it, no secret Hopes of someone catching you. Only a pure intent to die.
Dick’s Sporting goods is a five minute walk from my apartment. I’ve been saving up for a gun or two from there. I’m so damn frustrated with people I can even describe it! But, I’m even more frustrated with myself.
I’ve been thinking over things, and the more I think about it, it makes more sense to just off myself instead. You are all right; the world already has too much pain and suffering in it. I wish I could show them. If the whole world could see the soul behind my eyes, everyone would flinch in terror. Maybe it’s that I dont have a soul anymore. I’m so tired of being put down, manipulated, and picked on at school and at work just for feeling blue. I’m tired of having so very few connections, and I’m frustrated that people misunderstand me so often, and treat me like shit for things I just dont understand myself.
This whole macho-man, dont have any feelings mindset that people have is bullshit. I can understand holding it in so you can function, but when you have more on your plate than you can hold, it spills out anyway. Then, not only do you feel depressed, but you feel embarrassed and people kick you when you’re down.
So. Fucking. wrong.
I’m sick of complaining and putting up with things though. I’m going to take some sort of action. Maybe. I dont know.
There’s this girl I’ve been talking to that tends to bring out the softer, kinder sides of me. Parts of me I tend to forget about. I’d like to think she’s someone worth sticking around for. She’s just all kinds of amazing. At the same time it’s like, at what point is all of this too much? At what point is this internal, existential pain too heavy to hold? At what point does social ineptitude spell out too much dejection and isolation down the road? Where’s the line, and when should you cross it?
I’m so fucking tired and sick of it all.
I’m going to do something. Havent made a final decision as to what that is yet.
I am one of those people who fantasize about going into my college lecture room with a few MAC-10’s and slaying them all with a haze of bullets. I’m aware of what’s inside me. There’s this black pit inside where I’m able to stuff my empathy, and it makes me able to do things that other’s cant.
The first time I acted upon it, I felt so powerful! It was like no one could possibly do anything to me, invincibility! and yet, when that faded away, I felt so horrible and disgusted with myself over what I had done, and the person I had hurt, that I put myself into therapy.
Here’s the thing though. Everyone talks about “If only this person had gotten the help they needed instead of going on a killing spree.” Well, they dont make help very available either. I’m able to get 1 hour a week, for $160. 1 hour, out of 168 hours a week, is NOT ENOUGH and the treatment is too expensive! Especially when the remaining 167 hours are spent fighting what’s inside of me, worrying about how my interactions are hurting others, about how fucked I am inside my head, knowing that, and still not being able to do enough about it!
Dont get me wrong. I’m responsible for my own actions, and if I decide to go through with it, it will ultimately be my own fault. and yet, there are parts of me that knows it’s not my fault either. Sites like this help me Express the inner hurricane brewing within my heart.
I wish I could have a longer, more intensive therapy that I could afford. I know that’s what I need, and I also know I’ll never get it.
Double posting. Sorry.
It’s apparent to me that the way I view the world is drastically different from others, so much so that the way I interact with others hurts them. There’s no malicious intent behind my words, and yet, some say it’s “emotionally manipulative”, or “oversharing”. Something about empathetic pain. These are concepts and words that I cant seem to put any meaning to. I must’ve missed something about social skills somewhere along the line. So many people are upset and put-off by my interactions with them, and I dont at all understand why. Anyway, this hurts because (A) I HATE the idea that I’m hurting others without meaning to, and (B) I have excruciating internal pain that I dont feel comfortable expressing because I’m afraid of hurting others. So, It’s getting bottled-up instead. The isolation has been driving me crazy I think, and I mean that literally. I’ve been having odd daydreams containing dark and often biological imagery (although, this could be from Adderall use too). I’m so sad I can actually feel it in my body, like, physically. I’m just not okay.
I’m not one of those depressed people who wallow and do nothing about it to help myself. However, I think this lack of social skills is so deep that my lack of connections with others, and the corresponding distress that comes with it, is making life impossible anyway. At least it seems like that. I’ll try to get some help and improve things. but FUCK does this hurt!
I hope it’s okay to post this here. I also hope I havent hurt any of you by doing so. If I have, I sincerely apologize. I truly, honestly dont mean to.
Which perception do they shoulder?
“Pus sy”, or unknowing soldier?
Weakness, or internal sickness?
They’re indifferent to the difference.
Still, They’re still expecting stillness,
my distilled and filtered feelings,
for me to be as they are themselves, and
anticipating this unrelenting unrelating,
I hide myself away.
The urge for abortion is a plague, because I have this suprise unwanted pregnancy–
A malicious, mind-screwing sperm which has burrowed into the cerebral egg of my neurotransmitters by means of psychological rape–what really is this weight I carry?
This thing that grows inside of me?
This parasitic infancy?
The mucous walls of this mental placenta;
the membranes of this umbilical prison
is the shield that keeps me in;
Suppressed expression which contains and quarentines the contagion,
lest those exposed become
infected by it’s afterbirth.
The Parasite’s neonatally feeding,
while it’s host withers, slowly dying, because I hide all this away. They wouldn’t listen anyway. A Crybaby has been born in their eyes.
Without a heart of hearing
it’s hard of healing,
and ‘cus they’re blind to seeing,
they’ll wonder why it happened
and care all of a sudden
when I finally abort myself.
A lot of times when I post, I’m talking about my own problems. At the same time, part of the reason I’m here is because I care about what happens to the rest of you too. Sometimes it feels like I just have too much empathy for people in excruciating emotional and mental pain. It hurts to see you all hurting so bad. I want to help each and every one of you, but I know it’s not possible.
If you’re reading this, just know that someone out there in the world cares about what happens to you. I’ve been known to be crass, harsh, and too direct with some of you, but it’s only because deep down, I feel it too. You arent alone. If any of you need someone to talk to and relate to, please dont hesitate to tell me. I’ll give you contact info, and we can talk about things. I was a psychology major in college, so I know a thing or two you could say. I wish the best for all of you.
Today, I told a friend of mine that I’ve been feeling depressed. I told her about how I didnt like my job, how I wish I wouldve gone to school for music instead, how I was concerned about my Adderall use, how I’m 27 and still single. Her response was ” You forget the world is so big. The walls you see are man’s creation. You need to see past the illusion of the society we live in.”
Illusions indeed. I got so caught up in what I thought everyone else might have been judging me about that I hadn’t stopped to think that not many people were judging me like that at all, because those are all superficial things. I kept myself in situations I didnt find fulfilling because I cared more about acceptance and having a “place in the world”. I became my own worst critic, and even worse, I forgot how to think outside of the box.
There’s nothing wrong with going back to school. Love can be found at any age, and drug use can be addressed. The walls aren’t real. If you’re judging yourself over being single, over not getting anything done, over your living situation, over a hobby you like, etc., those things arent real. Those are expectations we’ve learned to place on ourselves.
Anyway, I thought I’d share this in case anyone else believes in walls too. The truth is that we’re free. When we care about what people think, we lose who we really are.
I used to come on here and get at people for not doing enough to help themselves through Depression. Now, I’m feeling it myself pretty badly, and I take back everything I said.
When this thing gets ahold of you, it’s so hard to mentally function. It’s Hell. The deep sense of hopelessness in itself is enough to make you think you’d be better off dead. SO much internal pain…
To those I gave a hard time to, I’m sorry.
Happy New Year
Suicide is always an option for me. Here’s what I mean.
Let’s say I lose my Car Keys. When I go through my head to assess my options, my options will look like:
1. Trace your steps
2. Replace the keys
3. Kill yourself.
It’s always there for some reason, in my list of options when I’m trying to solve problems. Isnt that ridiculous!? Even when I’m not depressed it’s like that.suicide
I would say I’m only mildly depressed right now, and that I’ve been working hard to make progress. I have made progress, lots of it. But it’s still there, like this annoying little whisper. I keep having to remind myself that things arent bad enough to warrant suicide. I know recovering is a process, and that these sort of things happen when you’re trying to improve. Doing my best to ignore it and keep going anyway. I guess I just never realized how destructive my own negative thinking really was.
She’s a drop of water
that doesnt believe in oceans or riversides;
A chameleon wearing a mask to distract
from the self she’s suppressing inside,
So eclipsed, so insistent on hiding the sun behind the shadows
It’s dark because the fire’s died-out.
She’s imprisoned in an invisible cell
forgot that she has the key
been there so damn long it seems normal to her
Doesn’t know how to set herself free
Why not move? Why not take some steps beyond those frightening doors?
It’s dark because the fire’s died-out,
But this light can be rekindled.
I’m the voice in your head as you read this. That’s how reading works. Everyone does it. Is it a female voice, a male voice? Maybe it’s a voice that’s altogether different! Perhaps you’ve even given me an accent or a lisp to make me sound funny. Whatever the case may be, your mind created it. What else do you think your mind’s been creating lately? Is it really your mind, or is it you?
Anyway, if you decide to have a Snack today then enjoy it! It’s the small things that make you smile.