My Suicide Note
END IS FUCKIN NIGH
Hello my friend !
Im new here.. so.. I wish I can get some friend..
I will post whats in my mind when Im down here..
I wish this place can help me to overcome my stressfull life..
See you again sometimes..
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I wish I live in movies, books, novels, comics, anime, video games. Real world / Real life / Reality is boring & depressing.
Honestly, I just can’t understand nor fathom why Most / Majority of people can go watch movies, read cool, creative, imaginative books / novels / anime / comics, or play super imaginative & fantasy video games, and then later on they just go back to reality, as if nothing happens, and they’re ok with everything.
I hate to say this, but Most people simply just lack Imaginations. Even worse, Most people are boring. All people care in the everyday’s reality & their lives is just the most superficial, mundane, boring, & stupid things. Which is very depressing, especially when you feel like you’re just alone & can’t relate with most people anymore.
And I even can already predict in advance, that people will quickly spout out & say boring things like: “if you find Life / reality boring, then maybe it’s you who are boring, not this awesome, beautiful Life / reality.”
People who said those words are, in my experience, either usually just stupid, naive, ignorant, and/or boring, lacking Imagination & even intelligence / not too smart.
Reality IS boring & depressing. Especially the more you know, learn, & observe it.
Have any of you heard the “Avatar syndrome” ? Google it. It’s basically the post-effects that many people apparently got, after watching the movie “Avatar” (James Cameron). It’s the feeling of depression, because they’re back to reality again, after watching (& experiencing) such magical, cool, awesome, mind-blowing, breath-taking, & beautiful ‘other-worlds’ of Avatar world.
I wish I live in Harry Potter world / universe , I wish Harry Potter was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Final Fantasy world / universe , I wish Final Fantasy was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Star Wars world / universe , I wish Star Wars was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Marvel Cinematic Universe , I wish Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU / MCEU) was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Avengers world / universe , I wish Avengers was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Lord of The Rings world / universe , I wish Lord of The Rings was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Naruto, One Piece world / universe , I wish Naruto , One Piece was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Mass Effect, World of Warcraft world / universe , I wish Mass Effect was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Skyrim world / universe , I wish Skyrim was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in World of Warcraft world / universe , I wish World of Warcraft was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in AOV (Arena of Valor) world / universe , I wish AOV (Arena of Valor) was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Kingdom Hearts world / universe , I wish Kingdom Hearts was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Mobile Legends world / universe , I wish Mobile Legends was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in Ready Player One world / universe , I wish Ready Player One was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in The Matrix world / universe , I wish The Matrix was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in magical / magic world / universe , I wish magic was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in dragons world / universe , I wish dragons was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in fairy tales / faeries / fairies world / universe , I wish fairy faeries fairies was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in cyberpunk world / universe , I wish cyberpunk was real / is real / really exist ,
I wish I live in fantasy world / universe / I wish fantasy was real / is real / really exist ,
etc etc etc
Reality is boring & depressing , & very limiting ! Real life is boring & depressing , & very limiting ! Real world is boring & depressing , & very limiting !
Fuck this boring reality ! Fuck this boring real life ! Fuck this boring real world !
I wish Virtual Reality (VR) , Augmented Reality (AR) really real & exist, and will progress much faster in those very important technology. Because I believe that Imagination is Humanity / Mankind ‘s most important potential, to turn into reality !
Otherwise, it’s probably better to just die, commit suicide, than to live / survive in this boring depressing life, world, & reality !
People always tell me that they care about me, but when it comes to the time I need help no one cares. I’m 14 years old and I want my life to be over. I registered for this website because I’ve already been holding it in so long. A while ago I was slut shamed for making out with someone when I was drunk. It got around because my best friend told people. The slut shaming didn’t bother me at first, but after a while even if it isn’t true, you are told it so many times you start to believe it. I’ve just felt so alone, people always calling me *****, slut, hoe, dumb, stupid, I’ve had enough. I know it may not seem bad, but I just can’t take it anymore, I want it to be over. I want to stop hating myself. Stop being depressed. Stop wanting to kill myself. I want to feel safe and loved. Because when you stop caring, loving, and liking yourself, that’s when it sucks. When your the only person you have and you hate yourself. I want to die, I need to die. I need to leave this horrible place. I need help.
I had a very hard childhood growing up, I grew up in a small cult and never knew a day of peace and stability, Ive been homeless and emotionally/ physically abused by my parents.
I left home at 19 to live with my long distance girl friend at the time, and was rejected by my family as a selfish traitor for leaving and not staying in poverty. My first relationship wasnt very healthy and my ex was very manipulative and passive aggressive. Later we moved to LA to pursue art in the animation industry. My ex dumped me the first week but gave the idea of taking a break, it never worked out and instead we lived together in a small studio for 6 months arguing. After that I felt very alone in LA. I never learned healthy interaction and spent a majority of my life indoors growing up. I made bad decisions with friends and lovers trying to fill a void. Ive tried to keep going telling myself that I was going to carve a new better life out for myself. I ended up working in animation and getting a few gigs. I tried to hold on to the idea of self help but nothing worked. I had a terrible experience at my first job and was isolated by my whole team. my boss gaslit me and told me that killing myself would ruin her image. I ended up hermiting a year after that feeling more broken. I couldnt connect fully with anyone because they didnt understand. The people in my life either had loving parents, or at least some stability, they had money or good loyal friends, they didnt have mental illness like I did. I made friends and connected with people as much as I could but soon realized that it was a show, an act. That people say things because it makes them feel good about themselves, they tell you they care or will be there for you, but arent. They ghost, avoid or talk about you. I have become very jaded in my field. I don’t care about working in art anymore, I dont care about this expensive cold city. I wanted to move, but with the state of the country right now, everywhere is terrible. My mother used my identity when I was younger so I have terrible credit, I suffer from asthma, ptsd, and bipolar 2 disorder, Ive lost friends over my mental illness. The few friends I do have care about me to an extent, they care about me as much as their comfort will let them, but I find I can’t relate to them, they come from a privileged background or don’t struggle with intense depression. Ive tried seeing a therapist but sometimes it feels like I’m talking to a wall. Ive taken medication and tried to find other reasons to keep going, but now I don’t know. I’m tired of not having genuine connection, I’m tired of struggling, I’m tired of holding the burden of my childhood. I hate fighting with my mental illness, I’m tired of being abandoned, and the things that gave me purpose dont matter anymore. Sometimes I wonder if this was supposed to happen at the end. I never can really run away from where I came from and its hard for me to play along and act like things will get better. I feel so alone, Ive tried to call suicide hotline in the past and had bad experiences, In the end they can’t help either, they don’t know what to say. They try to convince me to keep going, but for what? I hate how its the first thing people suggest to me, like its a end all cure all. It doesnt work, nothing does. I keep waking up and coming to my reality, I keep thinking about how I wish I could keep my eyes closed. The fact that no one will truly understand makes me feel empty. I want to die, but I’m a coward. I wish I could get over the fear of pain so I can finally rest.
I found this website because I don’t see anything in front of me, but everything behind me. I just want to tell someone how I feel, and leave a small piece of myself in a corner of the internet that no one would look for.
I was born into a family history of abuse. My female progenitor, “Louise”, (who I stopped calling mother years ago) was raped by siblings and step-parents and ignored by her female progenitor who favored the boys according to Louise. She got pregnant with me seemingly to “catch” her boyfriend, who didn’t take the bait and left. I suspect they were both damaged, shitty, selfish, childish people who couldn’t love. Louise then neglected me from birth and abused me mentally/emotionally for several years as a single mother on welfare.
As an example, when I was a boy of maybe 8-10 years old, I wrote Louise a poetic bit of prose about how much I loved her. I didn’t understand yet that my desperate desire for her love was not the same as true, healthy, reciprocated love. She, of course, didn’t care as much about love as getting what she wanted. Her response to my effusive and deeply heartfelt, page-long statement of love to her was, “If you love me so much, why don’t you obey me?”
She then married “Jack”, a US Air Force guy 15 years her senior. I suspect she may have chosen him for his “children should be seen and not heard” attitude. Or because she could manipulate him well and deeply. Before much longer, and in addition to how Louise acted, Jack was beating me. Jack apparently beat me due to her private provocation, I remember early on the discussions started in front of me and soon moved into private. When Jack came back out, I was usually due for a beating.
Jack didn’t beat me to make me obey, no matter what he thought. He beat me to get out his feelings, such as the vitriol and poison Louise dumped on him when he arrived home. Do you know the old TV show, “Wait till your father gets home”? If you take out the cute, that’s my life.
At the age of about 8, Jack whipped me until I had bruises and welts from the middle of my back to my calves. After his orgy of violence, he and Louise became concerned and conspired to keep me home from school so my injuries wouldn’t be seen. The assholes had me convinced I was an awful person – something that I still have trouble fighting – so I HELPED them cover my abuse.
Louise continued to conspire with Jack to devise sufficiently awful punishments that wouldn’t leave a mark. In my mid-teens, they chose a novel method – torture. Jack gave me a stack of encyclopedia volumes to hold in my hands, straight out from my shoulders – like the ‘iron cross’ maneuver in gymnastics but with my hands facing upward. He stood there, watching and getting his jollies of vengeance, as the pain increased. The pain got so bad I couldn’t control my muscles, I had spasms in my legs so bad I could hardly stand, brought on by the pain of trying to hold those books up at shoulder height.
In my late teens, I attempted suicide several times. My “family” knew about the overdose on pain and sleeping meds stolen for the purpose from Jack’s prescriptions. They knew about the overdose on acetominophen. They may have suspected when I attempted to asphyxiate myself using the household gas line. They didn’t know about all of my experiments with discreetly cutting myself, testing to see if I could stand opening a vein. I was no longer living with them by the time I bought a shot gun and sawed it off, planning a successful suicide. At that time, I learned that my fear of suffering as I was dying was too great – I couldn’t kill myself.
As another side note, when I was in the mental hospital after my first suicide attempt, I got a chance to confront Louise and Jack. All they did was defend themselves, not seeming to care that Louise’s firstborn had almost died of sadness about how they treated him. I don’t think they even felt bad.
When I realized I couldn’t kill myself, I made some decisions. I decided that I would do what I could to reduce my own suffering since that seemed my only way out.
Fast forward a few decades. I was born under Nixon, came of age under Reagan – effectively, I think, I was born into the final phase of destroying the “New Deal”. Things didn’t seem great since then, they seemed to be getting worse all the time, one step at a time in places all over the map.
Then, during the presidency of Barry O’Bomber, the drone-assassinating-est POTUS, I came to realize that DNC and GOP are one party, the GOPDNC, serving the billionaires. I realized it from his murderous ways, from the ways he did nothing to help the black community, from him successfully taking away habeus corpus (the protection against being held without charge forever – it’s been around since the Magna Carta, almost a thousand years), from him keeping the anti-constitutional “Patriot Act” in effect, from him continuing the illegal and unconstitutional warrantless wiretapping in place, from him doing nothing to protect the 99% – in fact, taking away those protections as fast as they could.
Following Barry O’Bomber it seemed we were being given only one sane choice – Shillary “Goldwater Girl” Clinton. Tinyhands von Fuckstick seemed only a threat to keep the masses in check – vote for Shillary or you’ll get the monster. Except I was one of many people who saw that the neoliberals like Shillary and Barry were a worse danger than Tinyhands. Shillary and Barry actually did the things that Tinyhands liked to talk about. The establishment, the GOPDNC, were clearly (to me) easing us toward the quiet and uncontested loss of any meaningful civil rights. Now that Tinyhands is POTUS, I am terrified of what he’ll do but at the same time glad that Shillary and the smooth-talking establishment are not as fully in control, seemingly, as they were – maybe, just maybe, we can defeat Tinyhands where the public wouldn’t even stand up to Shillary / Barry / etc.
Another factor for me – I cared about pollution back when it seemed to just be “litter” and “clean up after yourself”. I was born in Los Angeles and lived nearby for about a decade – surrounded by oil rigs pumping death out of the ground. I had freqent sinusitis headaches from the smog and migraines that I didn’t recognize until adulthood. As the years progressed I learned about carbon, oxygen, greenhouse gasses, Milankovich cycles, atmospheric circulation, oceanic circulation, ocean acidification, in short I learned about climate change. Now I feel very confident that the oligarchy has royally fucked us. I look at the charts showing how they expect greenhouse gas emissions to drop off in a miraculous way without any real concerted effort being taken and I feel bitter and lied to. I look at the POTUS and congress, current and previous, fighting like rabid dogs to INCREASE coal, oil and gas usage. I see all of this and I think, if life on Earth OR humanity survives (neither is certain), we are in for a really shitty time that may last centuries. (I think the establishment fears losing power more than death.) I fear that the next step is the 99.999% being locked up in labor camps, probably underground, “for our protection”.
My professional life fell apart during this time. Management took a decidedly Tinyhands turn, offshore contractors became preferable to onshore FTEs and people like me – smart, creative, experienced, strong – were pushed out in favor of compliant drones. In the end, I got fired because my employer chose to force me into a contract with another company where the exchange of value was between my employer and the third-party company and I was just the product being sold, or rather stolen. I am aware that a contract forced on me under duress isn’t binding but that doesn’t matter when the other party is ready to take advantage and profit as soon as they have my forced agreement.
Now I am facing homelessness. Again. I don’t even want to go back into IT, into technology, because the whole field is nothing but lies, theft and the usurpation of human rights. Do you read the EULA? You should, it is legally binding with few exceptions.
And the capper is that I am facing trouble with my wife. She is also dealing with her past, her rapes, her abuse. Some of our hurt places fit very well together. Sometimes our hurt places painfully conflict. Today, while I was trying to understand my feelings of hurt and sadness, she told me, “You don’t like me very much right now.” All I could hear her saying is what Louise said, “If you love me, why don’t you obey me?”
I tried, over and over, to tell her what was wrong. Over and over she stopped me to disagree with me, even though I was just trying to tell her what I felt and why. I tried to talk to her about it and she actually seems steadfast. She won’t let me explain to her if she disagrees, doesn’t matter that I am being honest about my feelings, if I try to tell her that “you don’t like me” sounds exactly like “you don’t love me because you don’t obey me” from Louise.
We’ve been in this place before, where she just seems to care more about winning than about my feelings, understanding what happened, making it better. She can’t hear that either, she calls it playing games when I tell her she only seems to care about winning at those times.
She has been my only happy thought, my only support, in my life. If she were not here, I’d have left this world already. And this fight, this repeated scene of not being able to express myself to her because the truth seems like an attack, left me more hopeless than even what Louise, Tinyhands and climate change did.
I am torn between wanting out of this shitty, savage, primitive, dishonest, raping, thieving, killing world and wanting to not abandon her to it.
I really want out. I feel that this life is meant for learning and growth but at the same time…if I am supposed to NEED this learning, WHY? What kind of shitty existence requires that I know this? Is “God” just the “Dubya” of the higher plane of consciousness? All I am accomplishing here that I can see is supporting a corrupt, evil system. I don’t want to feed it with my labor, my taxes, my consumption of branded products.
I don’t know what to do with this war between not wanting to hurt my wife and not wanting to stay stuck here.
If it stay like this, I will leave. The pain of life has exceeded both my capacity to endure and the rewards that life offers.
I can’t tell my wife, she’s not able to hear me the way I need right now. I can’t tell a mental health professional, I think they’ll just want to lock me back up in the worst prisons on Earth (see Washington’s ‘McNeil Island’.) I have no family or relationships, my wife is the only real relationship I’ve had in my life.
I can’t take it and the only person I can talk to is not there for me.
She just came up and asked me if I was going to come out of the office. She surely thinks it can just be smoothed over and forgotten until the next time she hurts me the same way. I don’t want to be near her right now, just like when she said that I didn’t like her, and just like then I am actually drowning in pain and sadness and it hurts to be near her.
I think she’ll force me to come to the front room and then she’ll try to distract me from these feelings. That just leaves me open to be surprised again the next time my pain is offensive to her.
This is not life worth living. I pray for a giant meteor to wipe out humanity before we kill the whole planet. I pray for a small meteorite to hit me, or any piece of space debris. I hope for my flaky, crappy, defective body to finally fail for good. I hope for my psycho brother-in-law to lose his shit and come shoot me.
I don’t know what to do. I know from my teens that I can’t just live for her, my will doesn’t last forever. I don’t want to lose her, I don’t want to live, I don’t want to hurt her, I don’t want to live, I love her so much and this fucking world sucks hard and doesn’t look to get any better in my lifetime.
Please kill me so it isn’t my fault. Let there be a pipeline explosion that takes out the whole neighborhood so I don’t have to worry about my wife. I don’t belong here, I am not suited to this world of “we make piranhas look friendly” humanity. I am the kid who thought when I broke the pinata that we kids should pick up the candy and share it and I’ve never gotten over the shock, dismay, disappointment and hurt of looking up to see Louise and the other two adults urging me on into the candy frenzy, the fact that we were in fucking CHURCH notwithstanding.
I am made for a world of love. How did I get sent to hell?
Hi I’m an 18 year old college student who is going through a lifetime of stress, depression, and anxiety. Depression has always been a factor in my life, for I have been depressed for six years now and find no way out. Although I am a very smart individual and have a great circle of friends who care for me, I have issues with opening up with people. I struggle with telling others of how I truly feel because I believe that they truly wouldn’t care, is it wrong to believe that individuals only care for their self being? I am constantly abusing drugs and running away from issues because of my depression and my lack of knowledge in expressing myself. Don’t get me wrong, I have tried to before with therapy in which I still found struggle in self expression due to the ideal that my therapist only wants to hear my problems because they’re receiving money from me. My family also plays a part in why I am the way I am, my mother being mentally ill with multiple sicknesses and my father being an ex-drug addict and use to beat me when he was doing all those things. I now live with my grandparents and father who has finally cleaned himself up. Although my father has changed his ways, I still find it hard to forgive him for the actions he did in the past, like they say it’s easy to forgive but hard to forget. My life at home makes me feel as if I am not home which I deal with by trying to stay out whenever I can and for as long as I can; even when I am at home, I lock myself in my room and isolate myself from my family. I feel as if my family could care less about me because I’m always surrounded by negativity from them and almost never hear anything positive coming from them, it’s always point out what I do wrong instead of praising me for what I do good. I honestly really want to end my life, I feel as if there is nothing else left for me. The only thing that really holds me back is my brothers, I don’t want them to have to face the agony of having a sibling die. Especially through suicide; maybe they will understand or maybe they won’t. I feel as if no one can relate to how I feel and that I’m living a lifestyle that is slowly tearing me apart and making me go insane. This week I’ve decided to take note on how i feel each day, and at the end of the week I will finally decide whether or not to commit suicide. Thank you for listening to my irrelevant story lol, it truly means a lot to me.
Recently, I got called into the psychologist’s office at my high school for a consultation. One of my teachers told me that she’d been watching over me for two and a half years (I’m halfway through my third year of high school, seventeen and a half years old) and directed me to the office.
I initially had trouble opening up; mostly because of the shock I experienced when I got asked whether there was something wrong. It felt like lightning struck me on a clear sunny day. I was silent and awkward and smiley the first few times. In the past three years, I’ve never shown any signs of depression or suicidal behavior, mostly due to fear of getting the same reactions I got a couple of years ago when I attempted to open up to people (particularly family members).
Now I’ve decided to tell my story here, on this website, for some odd reason.
When I was in sixth grade, I started getting feelings of alienation from other classmates. I felt different in an indescribable way – it wasn’t particularly intense or anything, but it was still there, and it was a drag.
That was when the bullying slowly began and gradually escalated as time passed by.
I was about 12 years old, I think. Students pushed me around and I had no friends, nor support from my family members. During that time, I went to private English lessons in a private school and also took tennis classes. The bullying got worse bit by bit. It wasn’t very physical, to be honest, but the words they said broke me. At about that time, I started to cut. Not very deep, mostly just scratches. I would usually wrap my wrist with gauze so that it wouldn’t be directly visible (frankly, I wasn’t too good at that).
Then seventh grade came.
And things got worse.
At one point during this period, things did get slightly physical. One of my classmates from school transferred to my English group, and managed to turn the other students against me. They said the same things to me like in school: “You should just kill yourself”, “You’re ugly/stupid/worthless” etc. They also tugged my hair or pulled at my sleeve or gave me a kick or two from the back of my stool.
Up until that point, I remember having one friend. Her name doesn’t matter, she will remain anonymous, but I will tell you that she was very dear to me.
But like all things in life that also had to end, at some point.
My father decided I needed to take better and more efficient tennis classes, so he made me transfer to another tennis club, in an all boys group. I, as a 13-year-old girl, could not easily just adapt to the new setting. Besides, because of my worsening situation, I began to change in the aspect of personality. I began having more outbursts and irrational anger emissions (for example, I would get mad at her if she didn’t reply to my messages within a short period of time). So with time, I lost her, and at that point I truly felt – and was – alone, in this mess.
At more than just a few points in my life, I tried to tell my parents, but all I got was dismissal. The idea of telling my parents, especially my dad, scares me to this day. I start to shake and whenever I try thinking about it in-depth, I reflexively start weeping.
It felt like you’re under some murky waters, looking around, completely conscious but unable to do anything. Unable to wave your hands and push yourself to the surface. I couldn’t go to my parents, I had no friends to turn to, so I headed to the thing that was easily accessible to me – self harm.
Flash forward to a year or a year and a half later. The day before me and my family were supposed to go on a vacation, I confessed. To tell you the truth, their first reaction was horrible. My mother was in shock, didn’t react in any way, just started to rub her face in order to remain calm, and at some point started to cry. My father said “Really? Why didn’t you cut deeper? If you’re already getting into that, why not just kill yourself and end it all?”
Now, while this may seem a bit drastic (to say the least), specifically coming out of a parent’s mouth, it was not completely inappropriate. Although I do wish he would have phrased it differently, honestly, because at that time it destroyed a little part of me that to this day I cannot piece back together.
Anyways, although it did not begin so, the end to me and my parents’ conversation ended not very unpleasantly. Truthfully it felt like the weight on my shoulders had been lifted – at least temporarily.
So then.. When did it return?
I’ll jump to the last year of primary school (14 years old). There was a scandal at school in which I was directly involved. There were rumors circulating; people talking about me having sex in the school’s toilets with a boy from my class. My classmates started talking, the teachers started questioning and sending me to the principal’s office, the boy started to pressure me and actually say things like “If you don’t tell everyone that nothing ever happened, I’ll fuck your life up.” or some other bullshit like that. However, instead of returning these comments with emotional behaviors like cutting or other forms of self harm, I did quite the opposite: I resorted to dismissing my own emotions and made myself distanced and unemotional. To this day, because of that particular moment, things that seem normal and completely doable to other people sometimes seem confusing or, in extreme cases, impossible for me.
During that period, I started getting “closer” with one (at that time problematic) girl in my class. We were on and off all the time, she was the type of person with a very explosive personality while I was quite the opposite. She caused fights while I was ruining away from them. And the boy decided to brainwash her, and make her doubt everything I ever said up until I managed to explain what actually happened and that she was being lied to (the lie doesn’t matter too much, it’ll take an extra paragraph to explain anyways).
To sum up, I spent that period running around offices and running away from myself. I do remember that some teachers did attempt to reach out (and I am extremely thankful), but I couldn’t accept it. During that time, I’d cut my long hair very boyishly short – I felt ugly so therefore I wanted to look ugly.
After primary school comes high school (it’s how it works here). I applied for one of the best high schools in my city, for the English bilingual class and I passed the test.
My high school life had begun and almost everything was left behind me. I did feel free for a short while, but the feelings and experiences I had have left a big dent in my personality and probably to some extent even in my psychological development. Not that I was mentally ill or something drastic like that, but I never really mastered basic things that, as it seemed to me, others already had and didn’t think too much of.
The first half of my freshman year started off a bit wobbly. I had made a promise to myself to be extremely careful, and therefore I did not speak a lot, unless I really needed to. One of my classmates from primary school was in my class, and if that were not the case, I’d be living a completely different life. She was with me almost always, she was really trying to make me open up (at least that’s the impression I got, I think) and make me communicate a bit more.
The second half of freshman year began and I started smoking. I remember the date – February 4th, year 2016. Finally, I’d found something that calms me down and, in a way, lets me self harm in a completely subtle way to other people. I was an addict even before I’d lit my first cigarette.
My first real friendships blossomed with the first box of cigarettes. I traded my lungs for the one thing that I’d always prayed for – true, heartfelt friendship. Someone to like me, to greet me, to want to be with me. To walk by and turn their head toward me with a soft smile, not a cynical smirk.
The three girls were in my class, but the first time I spoke to them was completely by accident. I saw them frequently outside during the breaks between classes and thought that they went out to smoke, so I asked them for a lighter. They got excited that I decided to start, and to keep it short – our friendship began.
My life has improved very much; I have great friends, my parents are slowly adapting to me, my school life is overall satisfying, the bullying is in the past.
But… I feel empty, without a sense of direction in life. Social life is hard and lately it’s taken a toll on me, psychologically in particular. I began cutting again recently, the number of cigarettes I smoke a day has doubled over time and I’ve been feeling sick physically and having trouble doing some simple things, like getting up in the morning or dressing or taking baths. Not many things are even a bit fulfilling, and every fulfillment that does happen lasts a relatively short time. There are dents and holes and scratches in me. I’m forgetful, at times irrationally reckless. Certain smells, sounds, voices, nuances – literally almost anything, can remind me of something traumatic and I’ll start getting anxious or sad or faint.
Often, a sentence pops up in my mind. “I really wish I would’ve died back then and there”.
But I didn’t. There was probably some voice whispering to me not to go and to try staying here. Perhaps some subconscious curiosity, who knows.
Now I can hear the same voice saying, clearer than before “It might be better not to wish for such a thing“.
When that happens, I close my eyes, wipe my tears and draw a breath, feeling the sadness go away into hiding, getting replaced with some peculiar but fulfilling numbness.
In those moments I realize that maybe there is something somewhere that’s keeping me together. The bonds are very labile, but they’re still holding.
Maybe there is some reason.
Just maybe. ?
Hey, good day for all of you.
This will be my last post
, because I have changed, and I’m quit-ing this site.
For those who didn’t follow my posts, or read the last posts of mine, I wanted to wake up today, fearless and with out feelings.
Fully honest with all of you strangers: for the last days I have been fighting in my mind, over the control of this body. As if I fought with my “anxiety” persona, which fears failures. Today I guess my other persona won, because I’m fearless. I’m focused on what I want and when I want it.
I’m just a kid, I know it. But even as a grown kid, I have let fear push me back. I have feared taking second chances.
It is over now. I have gotten pushed over the sides into the no return part. I’m going to keep low level my psychopath persona. I’m going to be focused on my prey, but my prey will be something good this time. I will focus on “preying” the tests and doing my best at the university.
I don’t care no more of how hard this is going to be, and I don’t give a fuck about what I felt, or how was my childhood. That is just some shit pushing me back.
I know how to deal with the financial problems, I know how to deal with the homeworks. So why I have to be so low passioned about it?
I hope you guys will go through it. I know you guys dont have an easy way out.
I wish you could have lost your feelings one time. I guess it only happens to who is abused at early age lol haha .
wish you the best, be brave and keep your hands together. Because together you stand, and alone you fall down.
If you read up to here and believe others should read it , you can comment. I won’t reply because I’m not going back to this. If others will see comments, they will go inside to read it too.
ps; I wish I could have been your friend, I wish I could have been your guide. I think I can do great at those jobs, but sadly I don’t live next to you people and don’t really have time for it.
All I can say to you people – stay fear less
that is it. I had enough.
I had enough of this kind of life.
I screwed up a few times. other times I got screw over.
Im fucked up.
I want to be soulless. I want to be with out feelings
I want to be a fucking robot.
I don’t want to communicate. I don’t want to love, to cry, to be mad.
God. If you are out there, when I wake up tomorrow morning, please wake me up feeling less.
Please help me become this hollow shell.
Why would you take away from me so much, without taking my feelings too? Why do I have to deal with this shit?
I want to be a fucking robot for 5 years. please make it happen.
I have enough on my mind. I don’t want to be social. I want my own world. With sports, studies and work . I want to be autistic! I want to be stupid!
I want to be blind! and I want to FORGET WHAT HAPPENED.
I can cope with it. I will make it.
But I don’t want to remember how lonely am I each fucking night.
I don’t want to remember that I don’t have a family and that my aunt and grandparents and et certa are fucking horrible people.
I wish to wake up with my mind clear and focused on the goal.
please. I know it is fucking tough, but please, who ever out there, help me make it through.
I…… I don’t know how to put the words together.
I….. I feel like a lot of things are depending on me.
I’m not cracking up, but I’m neither living here.
I don’t know for how long I can hold.
and anyway thanks for clipped wing a1957 and freeroma for the support.
I’m sorry I’m cracking up each night. it’s just that…
I’m just a kid :/
I was raised with out a dad, I was bullied but for short time because I stood against them and showed them I don’t give a shit, and I’ll kill THEM if they will even try to pick on me.
I didn’t have time to.. to enjoy moments because of my mom’s ptsd.
I never had money because of endless debt.
there are more rants tho. Like chronic harsh sickness and…. other shit.
although I never felt like a failure, and never am or was disgust by myself, I am feeling the urge to not be concise.
Be strong, be brave.. don’t let time pass by. Yours Jac.
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