I’m done with this site all it has done is give me false hope for happiness when the only way i’ll be happy is if im away from every one except for my future wife i feel she believes i dont love her and that im talking to nothing but girls so this is the last time you’ll here from me Goodnight to all
It’s so messed up. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess the reason I want to die is because metaphorically I’m dying inside already, and I want life to end before I’m dead in there.
I’m an angry teenager too young to be classified as a teenager. The pain hurts. I want to cut myself like I did before when I had no reason to, and now I have reasons to and somehow I can’t bring myself to do it.
My relatives hate me because I’m silent, “unfilipino”, different. I can’t count how many times I’ve seen them ignore me. Ironically, I’ve been somewhat abandoned without ever being abandoned; they’re just dragging me along.
I’ve always wondered what everyone would do after I died. It’s a calming thought to me when it shouldn’t be. Maybe they’ll be sorry they no one ever treated me right, but I’m over-exaggerating that prediction.
I’m wasting my life. When I fall asleep I always wish that I would never wake up and stay in this dream where everything is right for once. I feel a strain on my chest when I hop out of bed at 2:00 pm.
I have this fantasy that one day I’ll move to France and start a new life away from this place. But I know that could never happen.
So I’ll probably kill myself soon when everything gets pretty bad. What’s my plan? I don’t know. I just want to go “away”.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Last night I sat there in my room in my closet with the scissors to my wrist cutting.. not very deep. and i just kept imagining me going a little bit deeper and slowly dying. I don’t WANT to do. I want to escape what I’m feeling and I can’t find a way to do that, my only outlet is death. I try so hard to be stable it’s like I’m either SUPER happy, SUPER sad, or SUPER something and all I do is get yelled at for it by my mother. I’m trying so hard I don’t know what to do anymore. I want to be happy.. so badly. I just can’t be. Last night I cried my self to sleep. And this morning I didn’t want to wake up. I hurt so bad on the inside, i can barely feel anymore. I put myself down every day I always blame myself and treat myself like shit, and I CAN’T stop. I’m not sure why exactly I do it either. I’m totally confused and need to find refuge in something, ANYTHING. I feel so helpless. I don’t know what to do. Every day I get yelled at by my mother or crapped on by my “friends” there’s no use in me being here any more. I hate this, so fucking much.
When i feel im doing something good with my life something happens that shoots me into the ground.Being the youngest of five most would think i would be the babyed one the spoiled little bastard that gets what ever i ask for.And where i have received the things i had wanted im told its just because im the baby one,not that i had done something good enough for a reward.Always being told that beauty is the only way you’ll make in the world is depressing when you find your self disgusting at times i will act as if im happy so i dont bring down my girlfriend,my one friend and family,But i can’t even really say family “FAMILY” is suppost to be there for you when you feel down and help you out when your in a bind main word there “SUPPOST ” .Family is a made up word for people who want to imagine that the feeling is wrong.WRONG WRONG WRONG that is what imÂ told i am for every thing i say and do tell someone feel bad “your wrong ,you dont have any reason to feel like that what is so bad about your life you have a home”thats all material things what i want is to be told that i do have a fighting chance to make something of myself but when i say “hey im going to try to get a job”>family>”you want to leave us what did we do to deserve this crap”WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN “WHAT DID YOU DO TO DESERVE THIS” maybe its all the time you told me that “i was not good enough or that looks will make you have a better life”At times i am told i look good then i think for a while then say there lying to me so i dont do anything that will make there little perfect life on hold.People have said to me “i love you” even when i say i know no matter what i say no matter who it is i dont fucking believe them i have really thought about everything i have done in my life and i cant find one fucking thing at any point in my life that would even make any since of why some one could or even would love me.The simple fact is that there lying to me just like the “supposed family” Why why why do they lie what does it do for them to hurt me with the thought that they do love me why? there is no chance in this life or the next if there is that some one would truely with out wanting some thing from me 100% love me for me no matter what anyone says it bullshitlies and properganda to keep this world spinning thats it nothing more nothing less.Here is a quick poem i wrote called “INVALID” Invalid in life no love no loss just us fighting to let out our feeling.I let them out without words i lack the words to tell you how i feel.I might be sad? i might be mad but when i see youÂ im glad that a dream came true and that there is a chance i get to be with you.What is here what is there that we dont see my loss is invalid your love is not approved.We fight this life that will not end WITHOUT YOU BY MY SIDE”I forget when i wrote it but i do remember i did it in school.When our people going to die i wonder to myself when i lay in bed next to my girlfriend i think what would really happen if she was not there the next day when i awoke really life would go on but not for long as far as i can tell she is as close as im going to get to being fully happy in life.But even in that thought i still feel it wont last i still know that this happyness will fall to the ground and rot away just like every thing else that has ever made me happy for a bit.And just knowing that makes me wonder what is really keeping me here really i dont know all i look forward to is death because if i have kids they’ll die and i’ll be hurt again,my girlfriend will not be there to tell me it’s going to be alright i dont believe anything is or ever has been good if something is suppostedly good to me that means there is no pain anywhere at that momment there are no tears rolling down peoples cheeks there is just people feeling ecstasy every one for one momment is okay .There for there is no true happyness in the world you might say ” oh i had a good day” yeah maybe you did that is not a good day when a few people had a day without heart aches that is not a good day when only a small group of people had a “good” day.How is it that people say god is great he did this he did that “oh yeah he also lets peopleÂ be burn aliveÂ Â or drown like my friend “how the fuck can you say someone is good or great if they let someone die and be hurt willingly not helping and at that point why in the fuck would some one “great” let people who kill rape and demean people Well heres your answer there is no god really if there is he is one brutal guy that is just a pissed off kid sitting on top of an ant hill burning them with a magnifying glass.When i got arrested when i was thirteen my mom came to visit me in jail and she said when you get out i have some bad news i got her to tell me what had happend my friend christion had died and he had drowned in a near by lake he layed at the bottom of the lake 250 feet below for a month in 29 days i heard my mom tell my dad that when they brought him out of the water his flesh fell off and that fish were eating his body below the water.I can remember going to my room just thinking of the words my mom had said over and over i still have his obituariy. I keep it in my favorite book.People always find a way to get over things why should people try to get over these things like friends and family dying or things that had happend to us as young kids i feel it is wrong to tell someone there feelings are not right and you may say well your saying it well no shit but i dont give a shit what you think i just found this website and started thinking and typeing down my thoughts and feelings. im not sure how to end this so maybe i’ll end with my own quote “IF YOU HAD ONLY LIVED” MY EMAIL IS MEINREICHISTWUNDERBAR@GMAIL.COM
you cant just fucking sit around for one god dam day and just feeling sorry for your self for a little bit
no not with out someone bitching at you saying its your own fault your life is shity
and that one person who says it is some stupid ***** who could give a fuck less about me but is sapposidly
sapossed to love me idk…… honestly im so angry at the world that i dont give a fuck about anything or any
one any more. Its like i cant show emotions
so i hide them become angry but have no one to take it out on…..
I just really dont understand wtf god pute us on earth for
its like this is all a fucking game
and we have no idea
but then…………………then there are day were i think back to when i was a little girl…….. and how i was so happy and sooooo sweet…….yeah it usually just pisses me off more …..because i hate my self that much that i cant even smile anymore
i have no reason to
i never sleep so im always tired its 4:51 am here in albany OR and i havnt slept in 2 days ….. just cause its one of those weeks for me
that i stay up late and hate on my self cause durring the day im either sleeping or hidding in my room until my mom and dad go to bed
or im out at some party getting trashed.
well any way i really dont see a reason to keep living when no one gives a flying fuck…. not even i give a flying fuck
its like my own anger is num like obviously im not happy but i dont try to make it better and i dont want to
because every time i try it gets fucked …….so its w/e im 18 years old and i cant even learn to do anything write….
aspecially realation ship wise…… I broke up with a guy who i was in love with…….. because he
called me 3 times today and it annoyed me……i dont even no why it did moste girls would love it but 4 some reason im mad at who ever gets to attached to me almost as if.
i dont want them to
hence the reason why im so god dam lonley …. hugh?
I think it started when I was a lot younger than I am now. I now realize that in the past I fed off of guilt. Somehow, I liked the feeling of making people feel guilty, making them feel regret. And I was that way because I was sick and tired of myself being a magnet for those emotions. Maybe then, I wanted people to feel what I felt. Every little event that happened to me always started to build up through the days into something big, and I would always just look at the things I had done, and just say ‘Man, my life sucks.’
Which of course I knew was a very selfish thing to say; there are other people way more worse than me, who have a reason to feel like this.
So then, I thought of all the emotions I had were just part of growing up, a weird stage that I was going through.
I remember just laying down on my bed and trying to gather up all the bad things that had happened to me so far in the years I had lived.
On my mothers side, an extremely bitter fight had broken out after the death of my grandfather.
On my dads side, the family had sued each other after my uncles death.
My parents seemed to treat me worse as I grew up.
I had seen my grandfather’s dead body.
I’ve spent the last few years seperated from the relatives I used to be so close to, just because maybe of their choice of living and their mom’s mistakes.
Then I thought to myself. My family is just really fucked up.
I didn’t want to bring up school social problems, because that was a huge pile of crap that even I knew was stupid.
I used to have so many good friends.
What happened to them?
I don’t know. Because that is definately the question. They either get messed up in the head by other people, change voluntarily, leave…
And all the things I can bear to remember about them are the good times we had.
I could remember the countless times I wanted to kill myself. I thought that this world was pretty mean and I couldn’t live up to it. At one point, I cut myself (but it was only once. And don’t judge me).
Then I went through some sort of epiphany. My friend was going through the same thing. We would talk on the phone for hours just stating our reasons. The thing was, she was sort of the popular girl in school everyone liked, which really wasn’t me.
So then I realized, I don’t want to die, I just want this to all end.
And it took a lot of effort to do that.
I moved to another state, met people, almost had a boyfriend, almost got normal. The normality part was the thing I loved the most.
I guess I got pretty bummed when I had to move back to where I was before because of my mom’s job.
But I was pretty happy. As corny as it sounded, I found myself. But it was just a piece of myself, I learned through experience.
When I got back, I just went out there to the school and lived life to its fullest. In doing so, I got in a LOT of trouble, but that was the fun part of it, wa sn’t it?
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been thinking like this.
So what if my family is fucked up? So what if I lost a couple of friends? So what if the world just naturally sucks? So what if you can’t live with yourself? So what if you’ve never found love? So what? We’re all gonna die in the end anyways. So I’m just going to try to learn how to enjoy life, even if I have to go to extremes.
I’ve tried to kill myself so hard! In many times. I just wanna die, but I don’t know how. I mean, I need a plan toÂ execute. Make a plan, I don’t know.. Some times life is a fuck contest of status, or beauty.. I can’t see my life better than.. that. My whole life was a fuck lie, and I have never seen one reason to live. I have never a relationship goodness, I don’t have friends, I mean.. I do, but its not the point. Isn’t my life, I don’t have plan for the future, I aways think in die, or something like that.Â I canâ€™t sleep or eat, I feel sick, Iâ€™m crying, I canâ€™t look at myself. Sorry my english. ButÂ I just want it all to end. I’veÂ cut my wrists Already, I’veÂ thought about shooting myself, but itsÂ complicated. A gun its not easier.. found it. I don’t know. I’ve tried a lotÂ medicine, but it doesn’t worked (obviously..). Tell me how I make this.. where.. or something, please. I need to.
I’ve thought about committing suicide for the past year of my life.Â I’ve thought aboutÂ cutting my wrists but have decided that would be too bloody and painful.Â I’ve thought about jumping in front of aÂ Semi, but thenÂ I couldn’t do it because of the compassionÂ I felt for the poor sorry bastardÂ driving the truck.Â I’ve thought about shooting myself, butÂ the only guns in the house belong to my dad, and I sure as hell am not dying by embedding one of his bullets in my brain; he got me here in the first place, andÂ I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing heÂ has succeeded in killing me (though in reality he already has).Â I’ve thought about using pain pills, but I don’t know if there are enough to kill me.Â I’m intelligent and if I’m living her on this earth, my life will not be lived as a needy and dysfunctional human being if all the pain pills manage to do is fuck up my brain.Â I’ve thought about it all, but the truth is, I’m afraid of death; what would happen to me after dying, and what would happen to the people around me?Â I’m afraid of hell, and of guilt.
I believe in God, Jesus, heaven and hell, and all of this is one of the things holding me back.Â While I believe God would forgive me for committing suicide, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.Â Living in heaven with guilt would be worse than living here on earth with despair in my opinion.Â I believe that Jesus died so I can live.Â It just sucks that living has turned out to be such a hard thing to do.Â A lot of people say we’re here for a purpose, that God put us here on earth for a purpose.Â Well tell me God, what’s my purpose.Â I needÂ to know before I lose faith.
My mom committed suicide when I was almost two years old.Â Because of it, I’ve had a shitty life.Â I have parents who care for me out of obligation, not love.Â Sisters who come to my room to borrow my straightener, to ask if I can watch her kid, to borrow my pipe and never to say goodnight and I love you.Â I have one sister who helps me unconditionally, and that doesn’t help seeing as there is only so much charity on person can take.Â I have friends that are going off to college without me, friends who don’t know what’s going on in my mind, friends who just think that I’m the fat funny girl, friends who don’t know thatÂ whenÂ I zone out,Â I’m actually thinking about death.Â What would happen to all of them if I killed myself?Â That’s my biggest concern.
No one is here now.Â I’m by myself in my house.Â They won’t be back for another couple of hours.Â I could die and they could do nothing about it.Â It’s perfect but I can’t do it.Â Because I’m afraid; afraid of a lot of things.Â
My dadÂ once told that I was worthless.Â He told me that the family could function without me.Â Â That was when I as twelve and the first time the thought of suicide fluttered into my mind.Â I’m eighteen now, and though the thought has been with me, onÂ and off, theseÂ past six years, itÂ has beat constantly at the back of my mind for the past year.Â I knowÂ I’m worthless too.Â I know my familyÂ could live without me, but no doubt their lives would change.Â My death would bring a change.
My mom once toldÂ me a story of a man.Â Â “He had seizures” she said.Â “He killed himselfÂ because he was afraidÂ he would end up killing someone while driving.Â He had to shoot himself twice because the first time he missed.Â That must have taken guts.”Â That’s why I can’t do it, because I don’t have the strength to.Â He must have been brave, but in my mind I find moreÂ pathetic than valiant.Â Â He ran away from his fears, just like my mom did, just like I want to.Â Committing suicide is pathetic, but I think thatÂ the people who do manage to kill themselves reach a point of such utter depression that they don’t mind beingÂ pathetic.Â I hardly mind being pathetic right now, and there’s nothing wrong with running from your fears, because living with them just makes life miserable.Â
I’ve reached a point where I wouldn’t mind if I died.Â I just graduated from high school and every one around me is freaking out about the future.Â I’m content.Â I could die, right here right now, with no regrets.Â In a way I want to die.Â I want to be at peace.Â I’m tormented, that’s clear, by the past and the present.Â I want to die, but I can’t do it myself.Â I ask God everyday if he will take me now, and the answer is always no.Â I want to die, but I can’t do it myself.Â I feel it’s only a matter of time before I can. Help.
I’m new here. But I’m not new to the concept. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of cutting. I’m tired of pulling my hair out in frustration. I’m tired of being hated. I’m tired of walking into a room and wanting to run out for fear of people thinking I’m crazy or annoying.
I hate me.
I’m a 19 year old girl in college persuing an astrophysics and math double major. Yeah, I know. Same reaction I get from everyone. “Do you have some sort of death wish!?” If they only knew the truth in that question.
I’m not going to list the reasons that I feel sorry for myself, for everyone here probably isn’t interested in why I hate myself. I just want to state that I do.
I hate life.
I laugh at people who believe in god. Religious people crack me up. Just call me an astrophysicist I guess, but religion is a hilarious excuse for an explanation to the universe. I wish people would take 8 steps back and look at the gigantic picture in front of all of us: there is so much that cannot be explained, and yet it can be explained.Â I’m tired of feeling small. Yes, there are 7 billion of us on this rock, but this is only a rock. OneÂ big rock, in a universe of billions of rocks like ours. We’re tiny and unimportant.
So why am I writing this? I don’t know. I almost feel too unimportant to think anyone will listen. Eh, whatever. Guess I’m just a lonely, pathetic scientist.
Hello there. My name’s Jessica. My age, ill say is under an adult, by far. Any ways, im here to tell you. if there is any listeners. i suppose not. but i will go on. im at quite a young age, and im very depressed. i was led to fall in love with this amazing girl. yes, girl. and she played to love me bakc for a while, and i had to sit there and watch her get like 3 different boy friends and after each one crushed her i was there to lean on for a bit. and that was that. i got so depressed from loving her and not being able to have her thatÂ i just shut down, emotionally, physically, everything. i stopped caring, i sucked at soccer, my room was a toxic dump, my apparance wasÂ trashed and i started cutting my self, daily. my mom kept accusing me of looking like i was on drugs and being miserable all the time. my group of friends put me out. and i was alone for a while before i met that girl i loved. every thing was going wrong. my dad called me fat and i was getting fatter and fatter every day, he’s a havy alchoholic (sometimes) and can get rough with my mother but not a lot of the time. more so in the past. myÂ sister moved out for a time which also contribuited with the cutting. she also made me fell worthless. i felt like shit most of the time. i had no oneÂ to love and i totall of like 3 “friends”. but anyways, i’ve contiplated suicide many times. i’ve thought about OD and hanging myself, but iÂ just couldnt. i feel like my life sucks tho. we are strugguling to keep our house, i’ve been beaten a little by my sykotic mother, who claims shes fine and IM THE SYKO ONE. They also think i may have bipolar disorder or something. i ffeel like shit. and as for the girl, i still dont got her. every one calls me a freak at school and i feel no love. thats all i want love. i need it. and im just not getting any. not from any one. not now not ever. and thats why i want to just go away.im done. and i cant take it anymore.
I just ate something that I really don’t feel like throwing up. I’m just sitting here, not knowing what to do. And its not just for the moment. It’s not knowing what to do with my life. Who says I can’t play God with my own life? Nobody. I already have a huge bag full of aspirin in my room. I have a bottle of soda too. I know it probably won’t work like theÂ two other times I tried it, and I will just silently throw up my guts in the bathroom while everyone is sleeping.
I read the one comment I got on my other post. It told me not to feel sorry for myself. Good advice. But, what you all need to realize is that I don’t feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for everyone else. I’m not stuck in here with them, they’re stuck in here with me. Everyone else is so much better than me and doesn’t even know it. Hell, even my douchebag of a brother is better than me. Why? Because he is some of the dirtiest scum on earth I have ever seen… but at the end of the day he can look at himself in the mirror and likes what he sees. He’s happy. He can live with himself while I struggle to even write this post because I re-write every other sentence, thinking that what I’m saying is redundant and that if anyone will read this let alone care about it.Â They will probably tell me to shut up andÂ stop feeling sorry for myself. Well, I’m sorry to you all for having to pretend to care about all the shit I write and complain about. Real sorry.
You know, before all of my suicide attempts, I had this baseline to this song stuck in my head. It would play whenever I would get sad or would feel depressed. And before all of my attempts, it was like it was blasting inside my head with an amplifier. Don’t know how that relates to the post, just felt like writing it.
I used to do well in school, getting A’s all the time. Making my parents happy.
I then fell in love, and being in love with someone who doesent return the favor, is tiring.
Im emotionally and physically tired, and i just want to sleep.
I want to sleep forever. Which sounds weird, because i know death isnt like sleeping, i wont be dreaming, i will just be dead.
But that sounds the closest i can get to the feeling i want.
Im trying so hard to be what everyone wants me to be.
But I know i just let everyone down.
Im tired. And i think.
Its time to rest.
I guess ill start by stating the facts… Im currently 17, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when i was 4, fell into a deep depression in the 6th grade, and am still feeling depressed. although i manage to have an outward appearance of being fine, im not. I was also recently diagnosed with severe POTS… some shitty thing where my blood pools in my legs, so i have a high heart rate but low blood pressure. If i compare my life to others, i know its damn fine. I have a loving mother and three loving sisters. My dad loves me in his own way, but he has some mental issues like that ass burgers thing (dont know how to spell it). ive never been made fun of, and have about two solid friends and some other good ones.
Problem is when im feeling really down i feel like they dont really see me as a friend, that they use me, because im so kind, and seem to have a natural ability to work with computers and stuff like that. i mod there consoles for free, fix them when they break, help them with any internet problems or computer crap. They appear to be amazed that i can do all that, but all i do is look stuff up on google…
Anyways, ive been seeing a counseler since 7th grade, and my diabetes hasnt been going well since summer of 1999. School is a huge struggle for me. I dont see a point in most the stuff we learn. This year went particularly bad, and now im working on four classes over summer. Im in a constant spiral downwards with random uplifts. Whenever i start “getting better” i just fall back down 10x harder. Ive been on a countless number of drugs but none of that shit helps. Whenever i think about the world, i realize how shitty everything really is. Oh, and to top is off, im extremely shy, so i cant even bring myself to let my close friends know who i like… it kills me at night thinking about her…
Please dont talk to me about religion. While yes i think there is some greater thing or power, i think anyone that believes it gives a shit about them thinks mighty highly of themselves. I think some major religions were made up so those people had a “righteous” reason to kill and steal, and take over places. its all bullshit. I say fuck you if you think your that high and mighty that something that made the whole god damn universe cares about you, a tiny piece of shit… there is just way to many holes and gaps in all these religions
Sorry bout the religion rant… Anyways, i just wish there was some way to make it all stop. If i could, i would dream the rest of my life away, for my dreams are my own world (i can lucid dream) but no, i always have to wake up to do this and that. I want to die, to have my peace, but i have no means of ending my life painlessly. I dont fear death, i fear pain, which i think may be true for most people. If any one knows of a truely painless way, id be glad to know, but i guess for now ill just trudge through life.
And please no one post any of that shit about “God has a plan for everyone” or something… id love to see you say that to the holocaust and other genecide victims that are now dead… O and im pretty sure the devil thing was made up so some shitty people would have an excuse for their crimes and evil ways. Also i wouldnt be surprised if the bible was just some book someone wrote as a story for fun… Damn i hate religion!
Oh and im writing this at 3:30 am so sorry for any mistakes!
I’m not even sure what to write here, but I guess I’ll start with why I feel like killing myself. I have a sister and parents and you’d think we were a normal family. Instead, I hate my parents so much. I love my sister but she doesn’t love me. I love her so much and above all that makes me want to die, knowing she doesn’t love me. When she was 12 our father sexually molested her. I don’t know what happened; I don’t really know anything. This went on until she was 15 and a family friend found out, and put a stop to it. My mother never did anything about it. The family friend’s family knew about it, my mother then knew, but it was decided that I shouldn’t know: so that I could grow up with a father. But I did find out (one of the family members told me), and I became really afraid. I wanted so badly to comfort my sister, to ask her if it was true; I didn’t want to believe it. But everything seemed so normal. There was no hint at all that it had happened. So I tried to forget about what I was told, not believing it. It hung over my head, always in the background, for 5+ years. But then a year ago my sister told me (complicated story, but that’s what happened) and I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to kill my father so much. I hate him! This on top of everything else he’s done to me and her! I hate my mother, too, for never protecting us and even when she knew what he’d done she stayed with him. I still can’t believe it, and I don’t know what to do, don’t know how to deal with this. I love my sister so much and I remember when we were so close, but my father took that away. Without getting into details, I still live with my parents, and I know for a fact that their toxic influence is what makes me want to die so badly.
They never loved me. They always thought I was weird and cold. They never even tried to understand me. I am a loner by nature but that doesn’t mean I don’t care or have feelings or don’t want relationships. I prefer close, few relationships, and am content by myself for long stretches of time. Instead they call me a bat, or a mole, and my father even called me mechanical. When I’m in pain they say it’s normal and to get over it (talking about physical pain here) and don’t offer support when I’m upset. If I came home from school (which I hated) and said I had a bad day I’d get yelled at. My mother would yell at us all the time when we were younger. My father always let her yell at us.
I don’t know, it would take me forever to write what they’ve done to me and my sister. Basically I wish they would die, I wish it wasn’t this way, or I wish I was dead. It hurts me so much that my sister never trusted in me, or confided in me, or sought help from me. I would die for her, and she just abandoned me and spiraled out of control by herself.
If I had someone that cared about me for me, I would be so happy. That would be enough to make me keep trying my hardest to live my life the best. But instead all my friends couldn’t care less about me (and I suspect secretly dislike me, but keep me around so they aren’t alone), my sister probably secretly hates me for not suffering what she’s suffered, and my parents probably wish I was never born or that they’d had a different child.
Right when I started to feel close to my sister again she instead hangs out with her new boyfriend all the time. Further proving she doesn’t care about me at all. I have no support at all but myself. If I was a weaker person I would already be dead. I have lived most of my life without love or help, and yet I keep living and doing what I need to. I am losing my grasp though. I can hardly focus enough to go to work and school. I’m trying to graduate and get a good job so I can move out. But then what? What does it matter? No one loves me, and no one ever can because I’m a freak. I wish I could be like other people, but I’m not, and I can’t ever be happy.
I just want one person. Just one, to love me. But I know I’ll never have that. It makes me want to die so bad. Obviously I love living, otherwise I would just kill myself and be done with it. Despite everything, I want to try to find some semblance of happiness. But it’s getting harder every minute of every day.
This is by far not my whole story, but it would take awhile to tell it all. I just wish that death wasn’t the only answer. I want to stop thinking, stop remembering, stop hating, stop loving, just stop feeling.
i was bored today, so i started looking around the site again. i haven’t poked around for a while now. as i was reading people’s stories, i found myself envious of them. i think i know why. some of the people here- correction, MANY of the people here have already attempted suicide. and i am jealous. it’s not just in this online world, it’s in my reality too. it seems ok for everyone else to break down, but not me. a kid i had known for years hung himself in the week before his bar mitzvah. we saw my neighbor get carted out of her house one night after slashing her wrists. one of my friends just revealed that she has been on antidepressants for the last few months. another friend who hasn’t been in school this semester told me that he hadn’t been expelled, he had been hospitalized back in february following a complete breakdown. and just last weekend yet another friend scared us all by threatening suicide, and blaming one of my best friends for causing it. i am being crushed under the weight of everyone else’s secrets, and torn apart by the wish that i could just fall apart like them. i have felt suicidal for the last five years, on and off. i am only sixteen, i can’t deal with this much emotion. every time i try to show this a little to my parents, to maybe get some help, they say how can i be this upset, since my life has been “perfect” and that so-and-so had it so much worse. how much closer to the edge do i have to slip for me to qualify worthy of helping? how much worse do i have to get to finally let go like everyone else?
” I’ve often thought of suicide as my anwser. But now i regret it. I Slit my wrist way to deep all the blood rushes from my gentle body as i lay crimped up on the floor i wonder if anyone even cares. My funeral was horrible no one even bother to release a tear. not one. No one came to claim me as there’s. No boys seem to take a look when i walk by they just go on&on about the measly lives of theÂ tiredness of the others with in the room. No counselor seems to listen when i scream at the top of my lungs i die silently with the screams falling from my innocent body. The times i wonder around in this unforgotten world. My world burns up as i’m trapped with in. I lay wake until the dawn of time comes to relive me ofÂ my great pain. as i fonder whether to tell anyone now. Its all kept hid from my unwanted life. The Times i walk in the streets the timesÂ I lay there unnotticed. The times i’ve given up on life. The Times i left the buliding that hurt me so much, The life i once had is all OVER>!
I don’t want to live anymore, it’s that simple…
I am a dreamer, and throughout difficult times in my life, I always had this light pulling me toward better days.
I am now 35, depression has always been a part of my life, and I am feeling exhausted.
I lost everything, I am left with nothing.Â Building my life again would take me an incredible amount of strength that I do not have at this point.
I know what is the core of my endless suffering: I simply need love.Â But that cannot be done consciously, and when I have truly loved, I have always lost.Â I cannot keep going like this.
I feel people around me settling down, building families, getting promotions, and realizing their dreams, and I am left on the side of the road…
I should have known better – and I think I actually did – my uncle committed suicide when I was 9, my father was absent, my mother was harsh and abusive.Â What kind of fairy tale was I expecting?
I wonder why all this is happening to me… I am not a bad person, why was I chosen to go through this hell?Â Why so much pain?Â And why giving me these brief instants of joy to take them from me again?
I am done…
I wish I could give my body to science, that way I would have had a use in this life.Â But I feel so rotten inside, I don’t want any part of me to keep on living in someone else, I feel the darkness would keep on prospering, and it’s about time that it stopped.
I am hoping my sister will take care of my dog, that’s all I have…
Going to have to figure out how to do it…
Slashing my wrists, getting in the bathtub, take sleeping pills and letting myself go… Probably in a hoitel room, so my parents won’t find me…
I am a 17 year old girl and I found this website while seeking least painful methods of suicide on Google.
If I had half an ounce of courage in my veins, I would damn painlessness and go out messily: off the edge of a building of with a bullet to the temple. I am, however, extraordinarily cowardly when it comes to agony. I would be inclined towards an overdose, but I hear that’s a horrible way to go – vomitting. I would inject some air into a vein, but where would I get the syringe? And I’m no fan of needles… In short, the recurrent thoughts of suicide are becoming more and more forceful. I have spent my entire life tired, dispassionate, drained. My life is nothing, means nothing is founded upon fumes which have no future. My life is not so terrible that I’m seeking to escape it, no – it’s not anything, and I am utterly, mortally weay of it. I’m ready for it to be done. I want to throw up my hands and walk out the doors, cash in my chips, a gambler who only wants to lose and be allowed to leave. I am done. Finished.
I have been to two different psychologists in the space of six months. They have both been sweet, kind and uniquely and extraordinarily useless. They tell me to put on a happy face, think my way out of my depression… but I imagine that if this was something I could think my way out of, I would have done it years and years and years ago. They have not given me medication. They have not offered a diagnosis. They have invited me into their offices, week after week, telling me to give a flippant account of my day and my work and my pastimes. They are damned useless.
Naturally, the iinstinctual part of me – devoid of emotion or humanism – is hell bent on survival. It urges me to tell the psychologists that I am actively contemplating suicide, and to undergo the fortnight of horrors of an involuntary psychological hold. My dearest friend tells me to do this. She is bi-polar and has been admitted once before. She says it saved her. I am too much of a coward to make the phone call, to be behind looked doors, to have to break the news to my parents. I am fairly certain it would kill them. I’m fairly certain it would end my academic career – they would find a way to remove me from university, to drag me back home again under the guise of keeping me safe.
I am too cowardly to make the phone call. I am too cowardly too use a knife.
I never knew that the inbetween could be such a hellish, listless survival.
I realized I could kill myself at a young age. When I grew older, I realized that being suicidal brought attention. Even more older, I realized being suicidal would eventually alienate people. Eventually I realized, My feelings of suicide, were real, and instead of providing help, people would rather compare and challenge my problems with theirs, just to justify they were a bit more troubled than I was. I suppose that’s how my friends justified ignoring me.
I found that when my “symptoms” didn’t fit textbook examples of typical suicidal people, that psychiatrists started shortening my visits, yet still wrote out prescriptions. I found that only when taking these prescriptions in excess that I ever felt happy. I take anti depressants and anti anxiety meds like a junky.
I called suicide hotlines for help, and realized that these people must have one of the most depressing jobs ever, and on top of that, they don’t even get paid most of the time. It was ok, they weren’t any help, I never killed myself.
I watched the news the other day, and un-named news company, somehow was able to convince me our new president was going to make purchasing a gun harder. I don’t know why, but I bought a $600 M&P 9mm. humorously, I’m afraid to use it, cause I’m just not into guns. but now I’m afraid I own a gun.
I am 23 years old. I was never disciplined, so now I have no job, no job experience, and I still live with my mom. My mom is dying of lung cancer, due to 40+ years of smoking. The cancer in inoperable and she will not tell me anything else about it. Yesterday she “theoretically” hinted at 2 months.
I am afraid of people. When I am with more than 2 people I freak out. The only time I get social is when I drink. I drink too much and too fast. I have been kicked out of 3 bars multiple times. Last time I tried stealing one of the deck chairs from the patio, the bouncer stopped me and pushed me to the ground. I covered my head and yelled at him to kill me. When He refused to hit me I called him a *****. My friends got me out before the cops were called.
I just read a really stupid website about dealing with suicide. It told me to buy some books. Now I’m writing this blog entry, I haven’t read any of yours, nor do I want to.