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Back In 2013

by madetofade2
written by madetofade2

I used to come to this site a lot as a 13 year old. My username was MadeToFade.
Im Jamie. I’ll be 24 in late July of 2021. Before suicideproject was a .org, I came to type out my feelings. I expressed my frustrations and sadness, but I also conversated with a male 22 years older than myself on that website, underneath the old username Ive given above.
Due to observation by members of the site, it was pointed out that “Nolen” was in fact an adult, and “MadeToFade” was in fact a minor.
I am thankful that someone noticed and felt alarmed enough to say something.
Unfortunately, the observations and comments werent enough for a criminal charge, or much of an interrogation at all.
I am coming to this website now because I have no one to talk to about this particular time in my life. Well, I have a few people (including a licensed therapist) that I could go into detail with, but it is very, very uncomfortable. My hope is that this place will be the one where I can share my experiences openly and readily, as I assume that you, the reader, is not familiar with me personally and probably has no idea what I look like, who my family is, or how exactly this all played out and the shockwaves it has sent throughout my family and into my future.
I am deeply troubled by our world’s treatment of victims, especially in recent years. I am also deeply troubled by false accusations. My experiences are anything but false. I live every day hoping that I die.
Right now it is 1:30am. I have to sleep for work in the morning. Ill be back.

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This is a hikikomori (shut-in) story.

by Go-ei
written by Go-ei

https://archive.org/details/a-blobs-monologue-gotami-ei 

A free e-book about a story of one shut-in’s (Hikikomori) journey with mental health over the span of seven years. This is relevant to the website, it is just  a long story in a book instead of one post.

Sharing it here because I just wonder if people feel the same way.

Note: (from Wiktionary)

hikikomori

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Coping Skills

It’s been a while, but I’m better!

by Wednesday
written by Wednesday

Omg I’m glad to see this site is still up and running. I made several friends here that are still close to my heart!

That’s all the good news, the bad is, I don’t really have any advice! I came through to the other side using unconventional methods.
(I didn’t let doctors dope me up and essentially calm my personality down. I like my personality just the way it is. I was just tired of the depression brought on by anxiety)

Any who I’d like to drop a poem for all that’s interested in poetry! It’s about a friend I’ve made since I’ve got better.

Angie:

There’s not enough words or time in the day, to say all the things I’d like to say. But here’s my attempt at it anyway!

You have beauty that shines like a bright summer day, and a smile that always chases the clouds away.

You let me talk, you let me cry, there’s never a subject where I have to be shy.
We share in your life, we share in mine. The treasure of my day is knowing what’s on your mind.

Your beauty is surpassed by only your strength, courage and wisdom.
You refuse defeat!!
All this in a girl, when she says my name, it fills me with hope then I know it’s ok.

Well, this has been my poem, what else can I say? Except……….
I FUCK’N LOVE YOU ANGIE
forever and always??

Yours forever,
Lola.
5/28/21

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The way I live

by SamLight
written by SamLight

It is very difficult to express the way I feel on a daily basis. Today, I was supposed to study for my finals but i didn’t. Thoughts kept running through my mind, and I imagined a whole conversation with a psychiatrist and kept talking to him for 3 hours. It felt like I was in a bubble, it felt so real. I’ve always been like this, since I do not have close friends, there’s no one to share my thoughts with, so I imagine people in my mind. Oh lord loneliness has become my home. I feel very awkward when engaging in a real conversation with other people. I’m no more in control of what comes out of their mouths, they’re not as thoughtful and kind as my imaginary psychiatrist. I have never been in a relationship which is very abnormal for a person my age. My mother is apathetic, she can’t express emotions, my father is a violent man and my older sibling suffers from schizophrenia. Let’s just say I don’t know how to express emotions . I don’t know how to socialize. I am utterly obsessed with people. Whenever I’m out, I observe everyone around me, Their spontaneity, their playfulness. I couldn’t ever use my words in such an intelligent way. Half the time, I don’t even have control of the words that come out of my mouth. I wanna have someone that likes me, see a genuine smile meant for me. I’ve never heard a word of encouragement from my mother. She is barely alive, never have I seen her mad or sad. I maybe see her laugh once in a month. She doesn’t like it when I talk too much, I’ve never had a pleasant conversation with my mum. We only talk about necessities. Once I couldn’t stop crying, she was sitting next to me with her phone on her hands. Saw me, came to me, asked me how I was, I told her I was fine and she came back to what she was doing. I was very obviously not fine, haven’t eaten for 3 days, haven’t gone to school either. My dad started visiting me more often, my mum told me that he thinks I’m gonna end it soon . Well, he wasn’t wrong, I have been praying for my death. I wanna burn myself alive. It’s just very sad that I have never had a person care for me, I wish I’d have had someone. I’ve prayed n prayed for someone to help me, anyone. I wonder how it feels to be genuinely hugged. I ask my mum for hugs all the time, she gives them to me mechanically. I wonder what goes on in her mind, what she’s always thinking about. I wonder if she’ll feel something when I’m not around . She’ll probably be relieved. She has told me in the past that I was responsible for her unhappiness and that I was a manipulative person that was hoping for her decline. I am not, I swear. At that time, I was planning my suicide attempt, and she was fuel to my everlasting anger. I hope People will remember some of my good deeds.

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Coping SkillsPoetry & ArtStories of Loss

My own imagination….

by LoneSoul
written by LoneSoul

Live in the present moment, no time no space just yourself and your surroundings. Breathing in the same air the same environment. Not knowing the known. Erasing the the way of living that was taught since birth.  

“imagine what would it feel like to be In peace?” Freedom, gratitude? What are those really like? How come these thoughts Always Intrigues my mind… Is it because I’m so used to the pain suffering that I’ve caused myself. 

 

Easily influenced by the outside world. But hard headed when it comes to Helping myself. Thinking about not deserving to have that kind of life which I desire.. sad truth. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere close to it. 

 

Hiding the mental pain burying it deep inside. Telling myself. Aye why didn’t you die?! Nobody gives a fuck about you!!! Self-blaming oneself to remind why I ended up the way I am. Hopefully yearning every second it will be your time to go. Constantly fighting a losing battle. The cycle repeats. The voice’s lurks waiting for the right time to attack. If there was a deep trench digger deep. I could probably fill it up to the brim.. silently suffering. Quietly hurting..

 

fin.

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Coping SkillsGeneralRants

delusional spiral

by system
written by system

my paranoia is getting worse.  i have work to do and i don’t want to take my Seroquel because it knocks me out.  my mom made me take it.  i don’t want to sleep.  the minute i go to bed i

holy shit.  it’s really gotten this bad.  i can’t finish my fucking sentence because i’m convinced that if i think about it or say it or write it, it will happen.  i’ve been obsessively knocking on wood.  i need to.   why?  because if i don’t do it the the  *IEU*(E8uy9e89ye89uy i can’t write it i can’t write it I can’t write it FUCK

i’ve been making my parents knock on wood too and i lash out if they don’t.  because if they don’t if they don’t if they don’t if the hsKJKJHBJKDBJHKHJKUIY#eewu8e3ep3ei####I#IO#U#U3oii3u

holy shit i can’t.  don’t say it don’t write it don’t think it don’t don’t don’t don’t

every time i try i freak out and smash my hands on the keyboard

fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck

16 MAY 2021 // 22:19 PST

i haven’t eaten in nine hours.  i can’t.  it makes me feel sick.

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Coping SkillsGeneralPoetry & Art

-Visitors not allowed-

by Virus.Found
written by Virus.Found

Maybe the life I’ve build, is the one I deserve. But is it really fair for someone to only be able to build a Horror-Mansion, while others get a Dreamhouse done.? They call it ‘having the tools to deal with setbacks’. I’ve never aquired anything more than a pair of old rusty scissors, to cut the caution tape, that I’ve wrapped around my Mansion, for normal folks to stay away.

Trespassers would still get in. They love being part of the haunted feeling once in a while. They’re lucky they get to leave that feeling, because I don’t. I have to stay here, isolated and question whether the trespassers were right. Maybe there are ghosts, to torture me, and I just can’t see them.

I could clean off the layers of dust, which collected on the windows or remove all of the spider webs, that even spiders have moved away from. But why would I give anyone the impression, that I live here.? Here, in my own shame and the haunting noises through the corridor.

I let the rain take care of the flower beds, even if it feels as though it rains more inside of my home, than outside. The roses are dry and the daffodils grow on things that were long buried. I was never much of an architect, I was just not sane enough to build a porch so inviting for people to want to come in.

So yeah, maybe the life I’ve build started on a steady fundamental, which ended in crooked walls who don’t shift thanks to that. And to knock everything down and start anew.? Who has the time and energy to do that.? Maybe I could do small things to improve the way it looks like now.? But will it ever be enough.? Won’t be digging my own hole in my backyard have more reasonable purpose.? It’s the only thing, I’ve been good at preparing for.

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I feel like I’m gonna die soon

by SamLight
written by SamLight

I don’t know how to fully explain this feeling.I’m certain that I’m going to die soon. Actually I’ve been taking antidepressants on and off (SSRI) and I would take 5 mg for days then switch to ten, then not take it for some days really depending on my moods. Honestly, I got very paranoid I felt like taking them would change me completely and make me an idiot for the rest of my life. I also had some very troubling thoughts about burning myself it was almost as if I was obsessing over the idea of doing it . I wanted to burn myself to death so bad. I just stopped taking them abruptly. It’s been three months that I haven’t seen my psychiatrist and now I’m obssessing about my death.Btw I’m diagnosed with severe depression.I can’t stop thinking that I’m going to die soon, I’m not as depressed as I was before it just feels like I’m not living in reality idk it’s just a very weird feeling I feel like I’m dreaming and I’m always distracted I can’t concentrate on anything. This is so weird it’s scaring me. At times I feel like someone’s watching me or I can’t look at myself on the mirror because I feel like I’m looking at the devil.It’s very hard to explain, I feel like there is someone in me trying to hurt me, someone whispering to me that I should burn or die. And I get so overwhelmed by that voice that I find myself very close to doing what is being said to me then in a blink of an eye I feel like I’m back to reality and everything feels like it was a dream. Once I got guided to the rooftop and I was standing at the edge about to jump, it almost felt like I was mesmerized. Other times I burn myself pretty badly ( third degree burns) it makes me laugh hysterically.I feel ecstatic. My response to pain is very abnormal especially to being burned. Please give me some advice idk what the hell is happening

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Chronic PainCoping SkillsGeneralMy Suicide NoteSuicidal Survivors

Glow stick

by the_girl_with_the_yellow_necklace
written by the_girl_with_the_yellow_necklace

My family always called me a glow stick because I shine to them with my fake smile, I don’t need your pity when my life sucks ass? and I’m in love with a Taurus male. It’s important I’ve known him for so long and we both love each other in a romantic relationship way. So we are kinda just really close friends. My friends probably know who this is already I know too. But what do they really know about me? I don’t even know myself or who I am.. all I know is for a fact I love him, he loves me. It’s started with sitting at our local church that not one of us ever gone to. The spiders and spirits in there all have really bad energy. You can sometimes see things in there, the voices get louder when I’m by it. But watching the sunset while holding hands sounds so perfect. Perfect.. what is it? Him. Him and I. But once on the stairs on that church while I was sitting there, alone, at 8:32 p.m I wanted to end it. I wanted to leave everything, everyone. And if I did jump off those stairs that day everyone would know my name, everything would be sour. The sour feelings where it stays with you till you perish, till you drop dead. That exact feeling where you would start gagging to throwing up just thinking about it. It’s scary but so are the people that made me do it. Those mean people that made me have PTSD, start cutting, start feeling anxious, and starting to cry myself asleep, everything went wrong, and everything felt wrong. It’s not my fault right??? But what if I’m just faking it like everyone says? What if my grandpa doesn’t really touch me for his pleasure with my consent-less eyes. What if the very deep bloody scars on my arms and face are fake? What if I wasn’t in love? Who’s fault is it? It’s not mine. Right? It can’t be or the times I wanted to end it, all of my previous 9 attempts, were fake? It doesn’t make sense, the world is very overwhelming and awkward. But like always. Like a glow stick. I snapped and pored out everything, all my feelings left. But I’m still glowing with my truly amazing smile, is it fake this time?

 

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I just don’t know what to do anymore.

by Itsgonnabeokay
written by Itsgonnabeokay

I hate even talking about it because I am scared I will convince others to feel the same as me. My thinking is wrong I guess so don’t follow me. I am 27 now I’ll be 28 soon. I grew up being hopeful so hopeful and happy like I had the world I could go anywhere I had the feeling like things will go up and I still have things to do.

I was listening to music from 2011 not even sad music and I just started sobbing. I remembered how happy I was I really think I was so happy then. But each year after that I just kept feeling less and less happy but I was still hopeful and knew it would get better. It has not it just gets worse and I am so tired I am just so TIRED. To my soul. I don’t even see the point in getting happier anyway anymore.

When my friends talk to me about their problems I don’t even feel like trying to convincing them its going to be okay and that they need to keep trying because I don’t believe it at all. I do anyway because I don’t want them to feel like me.

People constantly say that you need to love yourself first before others can love you. I hate it I hate that saying so much. I have always loved myself I love myself. I have a deep love for myself but people do not show me love. They have never showed me love. I think about how good I treat people and how I don’t deserve bad treatment at all but people still treat me in selfish ways. They care for me in lazy ways. I look around and they do not treat others in the same ways they treat me. They get angry when they make me sad or hurt. It’s not just my family its my friends my coworkers just everyone eventually treats me bad. People around me are mean spirited and don’t want the best for others and joke about them behind their backs.

People are not like me I feel like an alien. I feel like I was on the wrong planet. I feel like people can tell I am from the wrong planet.

I am just so tired and I don’t want to do it anymore. Its not fair. People say keep trying. But how long and how hard do I have to try.

I wont hurt myself because I have pets to take care of because if I die nobody will care for them like I do.

I even dream about myself dying and people coming up to my grave telling me that I’m lazy.

I cant ever rest nobody will let me I have nobody that feels like home to me I have nobody that feels like warmth.

I am so warm to people I am so kind to people I am so good to people I think about people I am considerate to people. I don’t do these things for anything in return. But I just don’t understand why people are just not to me.

Everyone just watches me and waits for my next mistake.

I grew up to have no skills my parents never supported any extra things I wanted to do they would get bored of taking me to extra classes so I would just not go.

My whole family got bored of children once it was my turn. I am the youngest they already went through it a couple of times no reason for them to go through it all again.

I just wish someone would allow me to rest. I need to rest.

My hair has been falling out it has recetnly been growing back but its all grey.

I know this is all over the place but I am just so tired. I need peace but I will never find it.

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the feeling of being watched

by system
written by system

what if he finds me?  what if he hunts me down again?  what if he’s still watching me?

i can’t shake the feeling.  i haven’t been able to ever since the abuse started.

i can still feel it.  on the back of my neck.  i never feel safe.  he continues to have a suffocating grip on me even after i mustered up the courage to get as far away from him as possible.  listen to the fbi.  lock everything down.  deactivate all my social media accounts, lock my phone number, get my school e-mail changed.

but he’s still here.  he’s left an impression of himself, it’s seared into my mind.  he left marks.  holy fuck, he left marks.  i still have the burns.  i still have his name permanently scarred into my flesh.  thank god most of the facial scars from the razors are gone, because i stayed inside until they fully healed (not that i had any interest in going fucking anywhere.  ever), religiously applied mederma and wore gauze on my face for a fucking week and a half.  i wasn’t as lucky with his name because he made me RE-OPEN THE WOUND EVERY FUCKING NIGHT.

there was so much blood.  there was so much fucking blood.

why did you do this to me, ******?

you convinced me that this was love.

why the fuck do i feel so empty without you even though you tore apart what was left of me?

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Chronic PainCoping SkillsGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NoteStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors

Someone help me please

by SamLight
written by SamLight

I’ve fought  so hard for this. My whole life, I’ve never been able to feel positive emotions . I can remember some memories from when I truly felt joy, when I used to hang out with some friends but nothing more than that. I’ve spent hours days trying to dig up some happy memories but nothing. I’m nothing more than an abused child, nothing more than my past. I wanna be able to feel something, anything. All I can think about nonstop is how to hurt myself. I’ve thought about burning myself to death, cutting a finger, breaking a leg. Some very violent ideas are living in my mind. Anger is all I have. When I hurt myself I feel so much better, not just better I feel ecstatic. I start laughing hysterically.  I’ve tried using hunger to stop these thoughts, I’d drink and eat nothing for a day or two , it worked for a while but not anymore. I often  get these intrusive thoughts where I kill my abuser, a family member, or my cat. It feels so real.  I know I wouldn’t hurt anyone, I couldn’t. The most I do is scream at my mother and then apologize right after. I’ve been thinking about telling someone else to break my leg or jumping from the rooftop. I wonder how I would feel when greater pain is inflicted on me. The most ecstatic I’ve felt is when I’ve burned myself. Left some very naughty scars on my arm, now I can’t wear t-shirts even tho it’s fucking hot out here. Doesn’t matter, I just wonder how it’d feel to have my whole body burned. I get goosebumps just by thinking about it. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but this isn’t normal is it ? I’ve been diagnosed with severe depression and I’ve been taking antidepressants on and off. I started taking them again today tho. I can’t concentrate on my studies, and I have less than a month left for my finals. Everything is on the stake. If I get a bad grade, I’ll probably just kill myself. Somebody please give me some advice, I’d do anything.

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Coping SkillsFamily & Friends EffectsGeneralRants

quiet is worse, probably

by corvidaecorpse
written by corvidaecorpse

when i was younger, in those loud and chaotic group homes, in those uncaring public schools, i could easily self-soothe without worrying. no one cared. i could repeatedly bash my head into the concrete or the doorway or the metal support beam in the handicapped stall. as long as i left the classroom or main room i could make those noises in the back of my throat. i could hit or slap myself loudly, i could break my shit, rip things apart, snap my whittling projects into pieces.
then in my last home, behavior was strictly monitored, loud outbursts were not allowed. when i was homeless they were allowed again. now that i live with my partner they are not allowed (bc it would annoy, or worse, worry them. k and their parents would notice, would ask, would try to talk to or stop me).
quiet methods of self-soothing take longer to work, and they feel worse. an angry, loud fist simply does not do as much damage as an angry, quiet knife. stuffing my mouth with my thumb and hand meat to keep from making noises leads to having to furtively pop the thumb back into the socket once i’ve calmed down, and then a nasty wound that makes washing the dishes suck even worse than usual. it’s satisfying to bite a little chink of my arm or slash the shit out of my legs, but when you’re in that sort of headspace it gets messy as hell and is a b¡tch and a half to clean up afterwards. a back and neck full of scratched-open wounds is a louder/brighter pain in the shower than bruises or some raw knuckles. i’ll put my hands in my mouth to keep them from hitting and they tug so hard at my lower teeth and jaw that i’ve loosened and lost teeth from it. ripping apart my me is a lot quieter than breaking chains or treating apart wood, but it sure seems less healthy.
it’s kind of ironic that having people who’d care results in hurting myself worse

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short update

by corvidaecorpse
written by corvidaecorpse

so i got thru the Ordeal™ of my partner’s birthday party and then their actual birthday. still healing from my freakout on the day of the party (legs all fucked up, can’t do most of my stretches rn), but that was an expected side effect. less expected side effect: started drinking again, despite the cals. dunno how long i’ll get to keep it before the weight shit outweighs the benefit.

took some selfies for the first time since 2020. considering posting one here like ElleInWi did.

 

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My dad

by SamLight
written by SamLight

I think i might suffer from ptsd And my relationship with my father is pretty bad. We’ve never been really close especially after some events that happened in my childhood. Long story short, verbal and physical abuse. He even used to beat my cat. At best, he would totally ignore my existence, greeting everyone on the table except me, at worst call me a dog in front of guests, whispering that i was digusting. I was pretty badly beaten by my sibling n he n my mum would make me apologize everytime that happened. It was pretty rough man. Sometimes i wonder how i made It out alive. I’m pretty weak personality and emotions wise. I’ve learned how to be obedient so now we just act like nothing happened. I laugh when he makes jokes, greet him with a smile, listen to his crap. Overall, I’m just really afraid of him. Whenever we’re alone, I feel my heart tightening up n time moves slowly. I just can’t take it anymore. I feel like a waken person living with zombies. They act as if nothing happened n I have to fucking play along. Today, my dad called me couldn’t stop fucking talking about what he did today then he started lecturing me about communication skills and how I should be forgiving. Man, something inside me just cracked. Some pretty violent ideas came through my mind, I fucking hate him, I hate this, everything. I fucking wanna die. He destroyed every little piece of self esteem I’ve tried building these days. Now back to point 0. God help me, idk what to do anymore. I have some very important exams coming up, and I’m so behind. I wanna get out of here, I wanna go home, i wanna feel warmth n love. Being severely depressed doesn’t help. There’s just nothing in me. Please I need advice, somebody help me out I beg you.

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Antidepressants

by SamLight
written by SamLight

I’m really losing my mind and i don’t know what to do. i just can’t get used to this feeling, the sadness, the hopelessness. I feel nothing. The only two emotions that exist in my mind are anger and sadness. I don’t wanna die but Im extremely tired. My psychiatrist prescribed antidepressants , but i don’t know i’ve read so many bad things abt them. I’m afraid that they would change me or make me « dumber ». If someone has already tried em, please help me out.

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1:30 am internal dialogue

by system
written by system

don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me DON’T TOUCH ME

my skin is fucking crawling.  he’s here again.  he’s in my blood, in my bones.  he’s in my room, but he’s not.  his hands are cold.  ****** please leave me alone.  pleasep lease please pleaseplease leave me al one,,..

i can hear him again.  i can hear him.  a broken record, repeating over and over all the things he said

i can feel the razors.  it burns it burns it burns it burns makeit stop please, ******

my body is a trauma graveyard and these scars are the gravestones

please stop ican’t breathe you’re hurting me, ******.  you’re hurting me.  you’re hurting me again.

i’m suffocating

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