My Suicide Note
I am not sure how to start…I have this kind of suicidal thoughts more than 10 years now(around in my mid 20es). What is my situation now?I took a break in my studies.I studied business information in the 6th semester but I never graduated by University.It isn’t like I hate or love my minor but after some semesters I think it is boring and not enjoyable to study and work in this subject/environment.
I felt always like I don’t belong to anyone or group not because I am hyper shy/introverted but I am like jack of all trades.Actually during my studies I built my own social network with people which contains a wide range of people with different mindsets and goals in the faculties but I can fit in this groups but I am not part of them(feelings wise).The result is I was always lonely but never alone.After I took a break from the university I canceled all social contacts .I didnt left my apartment in the last 3 weeks… I give a shit about myself(hygiene e.g.showering every day,shave my beard away or going to the hairdresser). My close(“close” like they write me a one to three messages per month )family members asked about me what is about me but I try to avoid to give them a truthful answer.My sister and mother studied,too (business Administration;Physic and Math) but they have to stiff opinions to discuss with them about various topics.
The only one who understood me in my family was my grandpa.It was like we are very similar but were born in completely different time eras (He was born 1938 and I 1993).He died this september in only 3 weeks.After some faintness they discovered stomach cancer. During the visits he said:” Why is it me?” In my mind there was a thought like :the one doesn’t want die but his flesh cannot do anymore and the other want to but his flesh wants to live.On his death day I visited him his body was finished but he was mentally present and noticed everything.After we went out because the personal told us. 40mins after I came home I got the call he died and we should come to the hopsital and pick up his belongings and I saw his corpse in the hospital bed and his open empy eyes.
What is my mindset now?I think I failed my live miserably because I have no goals which are worth enough to be reachable and wasted my time with other stuff. The only way to(for me) draw consequences is to kill myself. So I try to suicide still in this year and lets hope I find a better mindset or I am successful and don’t end as a cripple.If you have an advice or just want to ask about me then write in this post I will answer as fast as possible.
tl;dr;I have no place where I belong and I have no goals+nothing enjoyable to live
Life is absurd. If cant give meaning to anything I do, I feel empty. I wasnt like this before, but here I am. People have some sort of meaning to keep living. It is about their job, love, friends, hobbies etc. I cant live like it anymore, everything has an end. It doesnt make sense to keep living if I dont value anything. That value would keep me strong even if I know it will cease to exist some time. Since I dont have it, I feel like a stranger, not from this world. So, I am bored to ask “why” all the time. If you think some things are how they supposed to be, if you feel there is something valuable in life, you should live, not me.
I took some anticoagulants and antiplatelets, after an hour I will take caffeine and use a numbing cream before I cut myself. Hopefully I will die. I am not sorry, I dont care what will happen after I die. I know I can solve my problems while living, but it is better to get rid of them, since it wont matter for me anyway.
Thank you all for reading. Have a wonderful life.
sitting on the pink dresser of my room is a book. its been my diary for the past year. all the reasons are in there.
mom and dad: dont blame yourselves. i love you.
my friends: dont do what i did please please please. it’ll get better for you it just didnt for me.
my younger siblings: sorry i was never there for you and never got to see you grow up. i’m sorry im hurting you. please dont ever do this. i am so proud of you always.
my teachers: im gay.
tonight, is the night, that i will write a letter to my family and friends swallow the 3 bottles of prescription pills i have, lay down, and go to sleep. i feel at this point i will be happier in another place, i hope to be with god, i pray to him that i am sorry and that he forgives me for this. i have fucked up to much so much where i am just so lost as to where to turn to next. i feel so lost, like a bag drifting through the wind. i have thought about this for several days, i think it’s the best option for me. I will be free from all this at last.
my name is payton andrew, well- on the internet it is that. it’s currently almost 9 pm,,,such a weird time it is. i’m always tired at 9 yet i’m never tired enough to fall asleep. but then again alot of time it’s like that
i’m sounding dramatic, aren’t i ? well,,i’ll just get to the point on telling my life story. i want to get this out in case anything happens to me in the next few days.
everything that has made me as fucked up as i am now is because of my family. when i was 7 i had to watch my mom beat my sister for a petty little lie, now i can’t stand liars and get panic attacks if i get called a liar. when i was 15, i was waterboarded by my cousins. another time i was babysitting the youngest cousins and the oldest cousin came in with a knife and threatened me and his siblings with it. i didn’t know what to do back then, i was terrified and i was standing in front of the kids. going through something like that,,,it’s nothing like the media or the creepypasta fanfictions describe it
i can’t sleep, everytime i do i have nightmares. nightmares of me being stabbed over and over again or being drowned and not being able to pull myself out of the water.
i think i’m gonna give myself a year. a year to think things over and try to feel better and if it gets ripped away from me again i’m going to do what i’ve been meaning to do and go into a dreamless sleep forever
I’ve been around this project for a while but I did never have the energy to post, today’s am feeling bit better and that’s why I grabbed the opportunity to write.
I feel like having a whole population in my head, each person trying to make it theirs, looking from outside I have the best family and a prosperous future, but no one ever asked if I am really happy about it.
my parents ruined my life with their fucking ideal principles, : you should not do this, school before friends, school before hanging out, shcool school school and then school, ok I secured my future but then what? they destroyed my life, in my 30s still single, no friends no life at all. is having good grades will make us happy? definetly not, in my 30s and still struggling to cut ties with them, they created psychological bounds, now am insomniac, buliamic, stressed, anxious, bipolar… am thinking about what if I commit suicide? will I be missed? certainly not, my presence is nothingness itself, am nothing am a dying soul and that’s reality
If you believe in God, I want to know why. I’ve tried, hard. It all seems like lies and empty promises. I’ve done what was asked. I followed the rules. Nothing good ever happens. The love of my life just walked away after 2 years. I’ll never get over her. She’s not perfect but sure as hell was perfect for me. In every way. For 2 years, I prayed, cried, kicked and screamed. I begged God to find a way to put us together for forever. Ultimately she decided God didn’t want us to be together. What!?!? He never talked to me about it. Church every sunday, helping others, giving to charity, talking to others about him. What else do I have to do? He refused to help or talk to me. So I’m going to leave. Go find him and see WTF his is problem with me. Why do you believe? What evidence do you have (hint: great kids are not an answer)
Hey, good week everyone.
Hope you guys do well.
This post I’m addressing to any reader with a question :
In the end of the day, you are still alive. How come? How did you make it through? you are more than welcome sharing to me your secret.
I’m a little bit of suicidal now…
So freaking terrored by the idea of not making it through.
I see the following week and I’m disgusted of my life.
It’s going to be a tough time for me.
I never hoped to get this lonely, but here and there, life has brought me here.
Will I make it through, like you do?
Will I one day, stand in my house, with a happy smile, gazing upon my thoughts, seeing how broken hearted I was years ago, and to where I’ve got now.
There is a saying that goes like “training is hard, but war is easy”
No one told me how hard “training” can be. No one alerted me what my decisions held in them. I have so much responsibility, and so little means to deal with.
I feel mentally broken, almost mentally ill. I’m in deep anxiety, but fighting the urge to feel so. I’m talking rapidly to myself, and focusing on my homework and studies, but meanwhile I’m losing my sanity. Just 3 more years till the end, will I fucking make it?
Our society forgot one thing. it’s really easy to cry about something, just as easy as stating a solution. But making it through the day is the hard part. Making it through all of the “damn” failures, through all of the “lost loves”, lack of socially friendships and lack of company.
I have so much hate growling in me. I envy so much but can’t have none.
I find myself standing against many moral aspects, helpless.
I won’t give any details of what are my problems, because I don’t belive you should know what they are, since you won’t be able to help with them.
But I’ll give you the idea of how bad I feel. the fact that someone read this, and comment – it really helps.
And as for answering my own question – You guys, are what helping me go through.
Be brave, stay strong, yours Jac.
So I took an entire box of Slow Fe iron pills. And nothing has happened in over 36 hours. Don’t know why.
A lot of time has passed since I wrote here.
My last post was about “Tips and good bye”, but I came back.
I’m suffering from abdominal pains each day, and it has become more and more harsh.
I’m trying to study, but I can’t concentrate. Where ever I go, I feel isolated. It is not socialy isolation, it is different. I feel different.
I can’t explain how I’m doing, I can only say I’m cracked, I’m fully torn apart. I’m all alone in this war and I don’t FEEL like I can make it through, I need help, and I HAVE NOWHERE TO GET IT FROM.
I’m a fighter, but it has nothing to do to how I feel. I’m still a human being, why does life has to be so harsh?
My father is alive, but has abounded me. I’m helping my mom, but it is so life-sucking. I can’t help my brother, because I’m all committed to fix all our life.
I’m doing the best I can at the university but it is not enough.
I’m pushing myself BEYOND the limits.
I can’t explain what I feel, just… just so freaking broken. I’m sad to find out I’m the only one capable to lift me up (even tho, I’m glad I can do it).
The “faculty advisory” told me “you should learn how to forgive yourself” ;
sudden honesty to all you, dear readers, I can’t forgive myself. The reason I’m not succeeding is because I’m not pushing hard enough.
I finished my first semester with avg of 89% , but this is not good enough. I can’t forgive myself for years of “not giving a shit”
I can’t forgive myself for not saying those same people who stab my back ” I hate you” at their face, at that instant moment.
You know something? I always tried to be the “bigger person”. But that is some real bullshit right there. I turned out to be a “piece of shit you can step on” – (And I thought none wants to step on a shit haha).
For whoever committed to this post and actually read up to here – Thank you. Knowing you read it, make me feel much better.
Like I just told the whole world : “Hey people, I’m defenseless and injured, my friends and family don’t see it, and I have got nowhere to turn, so just wanted to let you know, I’m hurt and injured…”
I will always know, that after I will finish my studies, my life would turn around. I know it is worth bleeding for, because it is focusing on the target and not on the depressing things in life.
I will always look at the bright side and seek progression, but it has nothing to do with me being a dead man walking.
how many of you feel like me? Have you ever been so broken apart you started talking to your self?
I wish to stay sane untill my better lifetime – I mean, to stay sane untill the end. Because one day, I will be able to tell to my dad, and other people – “I made it :), you left me worthless and aside, but I made it, because I had something with me, and I grew it stronger and bigger, and I finally made it”.
As for people who wonder why I use tags of both “I will survive” and “My suicide note” is because I’m one part at my grave, and the other at the skies. I’m still a kid all inside, because I have never had the “time to grow up” but needed to do it instantly. I just skipped childhood into “adultHELL”.
Wish you all the best,
Stay strong, be brave, life has a better ending than it seems.
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Part of me wants to make my death look like an accident, not like a suicide. To make it easier on my loved ones, friends, family and girlfriend. The only problem with that is not saying goodbye really bothers me, and generally these methods are more risky( but i’m not trying to discuss methods)
Another part of me wants to leave a suicide note, to try and explain my rational and hope they can understand and don’t think that they weren’t enough. Because truly, the only reason i’m killing myself is because of myself.
What are your thoughts?
I can not function in this world, this has been a long time in the making.
The only reason I am having trouble killing myself is because I have an amazing girlfriend. she deserves the absolute best in this world. She showed me what its like to be human. She loves me beyond my own comprehension. The selfish part of me loves how much she loves me, but the loving part of me hates it because it will break her heart when i’m gone.
The only thing that causes me more pain than myself, is the thought of her reaction to my death. Im afraid it would affect her negatively for the rest of her life.
However I know I am slipping away from reality further and further each day, part of me wants to end it on a good note, so she can remember me for who I was. The only reason she hasn’t been able to tell that i’ve fallen apart is because she is away for university and we only see each other in person every 2 weeks, so when I see her I am able to put on a mask. But than part of me also wants to ride it out for as long as possible until she no longer loves me because i’ve fallen apart so bad. But isnt that just as bad? I love her more than I have loved anyone or anything in my short life, she taught me what love is.
Is there a way to make her understand why i’m taking my own life, to make it easier for her? I don’t want to mess up her studies. And I don’t want to mess up her life, she is only 18. But I can not function any longer.
I want to leave a separate suicide note for her, to show her how special she is. But will this make it worse?
I’ve been in deep depression for 4 years now and I’ve attempted suicide 3 times. The first time i jumped from a bridge overlooking a ridge of water and rocks, it was about 100 feet i think. I ended up with bruised ribs, a twisted ankle and back pain for several months. The second time i overdosed on ecstasy, but one of my few remaining friends found me and got me help before i could die. The last time i tried a couple months ago with a 357 magnum, turned out it was old and the firing pin on it had been broken a while back and i ended up pulling the trigger with nothing happening and just started to cry for several hours before my best friend came home and talked with me for a while. But from all this i learned that it only takes a little to kill some but takes a lot to kill others, and having found that 100 feet is not enough even with rocks underneath, i have gained access to a rather large several story building with nothing but solid pavement at the base floor. I’ve heard of a small percentage of people surviving jumps like that but i sincerely doubt i will be one of them so I’m going to try again in the next week or two but maybe someone will come along and change my mind or maybe ill just be a coward in the end and not jump. But if not then my 4th attempt should be enough to finally end it.
It seems that that’s the number one question on my mind.
Why am I here ? Why do I feel so sad?
Why can’t I succeed?
Why am I treated the way I am?
I feel so alone I have no body to talk to I have no feeling I’ve became so numb.
How much longer?
I sit and write the final suicide note…
Yeah.. I uh.. I have started drinking beer. 4% of alcohol, but it still counts. I know. I f*cked up really badly. So badly that my only true friend threatens me that she’ll abandon me, just like that, if I don’t stop. I somehow find a way to f*ck up everything I can.. I just wish I f*cking killed myself when I had the chance to.. I just don’t want this life anymore.. I am only alive right now, because if I killed myself, my only true friend would too. Only because of that. No other reason. If it wasn’t for her I’d be dead by now. But now she’s telling me she’ll abandon me if I don’t stop doing something that helps me. Well f*ck everything. I know I’m only 14 years old and that I shouldn’t drink but who the f*ck cares anyways. Now I just want to get drunk, take all the sleeping pills I have, and just fall asleep. And never wake up.
Yeah, as the title says, I gave up.. I am not a fighter, and I just can’t see myself winning this battle anymore. I don’t have much time left.. Well, I have 4 days, to be exact. I guess this is the last goodbye to the world.. Not like I’ll be missed by many, but hey..
Thank you, my friends, family, for making me want to kill myself. Now I will, because of you all.
And to my only true friend – I loved you so much. I’m really sorry.
Before we get this shit-show on the road, I want to make one thing clear:
You didn’t do this to me. You didn’t push me to this point. I’m far too self-righteous to believe anyone could do anything to me (after all, this whole “suicide” thing is always about “showing God who’s boss”, right?). Anyway, don’t feel guilty, this isn’t your fault, nothing you could do, I drove myself to it, etc. Same necessary disclaimers that shift all blame to me. I’d tell you where to send questions, comments, and concerns, but I’m dead (assuming all’s gone according to plan) and will not be able to answer them.
So, snow’s the part of the note where I talk about why I did it. This isn’t any of your business, though. If you didn’t know by now, you weren’t meant to know. It’s kind of like how I’m not meant to be alive. There’s nothing you can do but take the truth just as it is —- even in its form as a wriggling, slimy maggot. They’ll eat through you just the same.
I should probably talk about how I feel guilty, but if you had any base knowledge about me, it’s that I’m guilty. I feel guilty for everything, and I’m too selfish to let anyone’s words convince me that I am not telling the truth to myself. I guess that’s the thing about being fucked up; there’s some “fucked up” that just can’t be fixed. I could recognize about a million problems. I tried to fix them, but I must not have been “trying my hardest” or whatever, because nothing ever came of it. I keep screwing up everyone’s lives.
There’s something I heard awhile back, and I might be paraphrasing it with minor errors, but what I remember really got to me: “Aren’t these just symptoms of your own deficiencies?”
We all want to fix ourselves. My understanding of human nature requires an overwhelming sense of egocentricity, or at least a higher respect for oneself than anyone else. I don’t want that to happen to me, so instead, I’ve accumulated not only the fault I tried so desperately to avoid, but a whole fucking variety of the rest.
Back to the deficiency thing, I realized this morning that I don’t exactly deserve to live with all of these people I love so dearly, especially if my deficiencies cause pain and inconveniences on their part. I have been nothing but terrible to them. I don’t think it really matters that I did try very hard not to have this happen, and that I tried to stay alive for them, but maybe it makes the difference for whoever reads this note. My deficiencies were irreconcilable, even when I tried my best to fight against them. I was an inconvenience at best.
So, I know I said that I wouldn’t waste your time with why I killed myself, and I guess you still only got part of it, but I guess it just goes to show how much of a hypocritical liar I really am. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry for being to much of a contemptible coward to come forth and aplogize to your face, and I understand if you hold no respect, love, or forgiveness for me. That’s a lot more than I could ever be bold enough to ask for. I’ve ruined you all, and I can’t expect your lives to be mended by a single word of five letters.
Anyway, I don’t have last words, so don’t record these. That’s bullshit. None of my words ever did what they were supposed to.
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Even after every day you didn’t talk to me. Every day you told me you hated me. That I should leave and never come back. After every day I tried to say I was sorry for my shortcomings, and every day that you never forgave me. Every day you never apologized for your own shortcomings, for the bullying and the heartbreak, for every time I tried to share my life with you only for you to throw it back in my face. Every day you told me I looked like a whore when I put on make up when I didn’t feel confident; every day you told me my interests were stupid and weird, even though sometimes they were the only things that made me feel alive; every day you made sure I knew that I was just as much as an outcast as I felt.
But your name was always at the top of the page, even after every time you turned your crappy country music all the way up when we were driving, just to piss me off. Every time I asked you to lunch and you told me you weren’t hungry, even though you went out with your friends an hour later. After every time you told me to fuck off when I told you I was worried about you, every time I tried to offer you advice. My suicide note was always addressed to you, even if you never cared.
And then I left. I went to college and we never talked and I took little white pills that made me sick and tired and made my hair fall out and I stopped writing suicide notes in my head sometimes, but when I did they were still always to you. I grew up fast and life got hard even faster and some days my suicide notes were my only source of comfort. They were an out for a game that I was losing, a game I had never wanted to play in the first place.
You called me for the first time three months in, and we talked for two hours. After drinking myself sick on weekdays and running out of shirts that didn’t show my arms, I realized that there was more to life than mothering you; I knew that’s what had always pissed you off the most. After all, you were probably doing a lot better than I was. I didn’t tell you that but you knew that I had changed. You were always smart like that. You told me that I was like a “new person,” I was cooler now. After years of trying, you finally told me you trusted me, you forgave me, and we spent hours making up for lost years. I didn’t want to write suicide notes to you anymore.
Addressing a letter to someone is like looking them in the eye while they read it, and I knew that when I died, I wanted to look you in the eye when I said I was sorry. Maybe I was hoping that in my final words you’d find something redeemable in me, that if I left the culmination of my life addressed to you, you would finally love me the way that I had loved you all these years. That it would make up for everything I had done. Maybe I was just a little bit bitter that everything I had ever done to mend our relationship was in vain, that you never gave a damn about me, and that you never would until the day I died. But now it feels sharp and cold, it stings with betrayal, and I couldn’t look you in the eye even if I wanted to. It hurts too much. I am too afraid to break the trust you had finally given me. The trust I worked so hard for. The trust I would die for.
I still write suicide notes sometimes, but they’re never addressed to you. And if I ever do write one, I can only hope that you would forgive me one final time.