Ever since school started I haven’t been posting since I barley have time to breathe. I visited the hospital about 2 weeks ago since the headaches and chest pain proceed. The doctor gave me pills for a week and immediately checked my oxygen level thinking it had something to do with my asthma. After we left the hospital my parents gave me shit not only because the doctor said it was nothing but also because I forgot my identity card at home. I’m starting to forget things for some reason and I want it to stop. If I keep on forgetting things I won’t be able to get through this school year. Anyways, going to the hospital didn’t work. My chest still hurts, my head feels like exploding and I struggle to get out of bed everyday. After 136 days of being clean, I lost it. Yesterday night, I used something new but it didn’t cut as deep so I went back to my old way. My blood wasn’t as dark this time. I didn’t cry, I didn’t move, I was just empty. I just want to die. I don’t want to be here anymore. I think I am permanently psychologically damaged. Yesterday, I was reminded that I’m losing.
Stories of Hope
I’m not suicidal at this time, and this story, although true, has taken place in the past. Perhaps writing this is part of my own integration process, and maybe it can help somebody else, I don’t know? Anyway, hello everyone, and to quote Hannah from 13 Reasons Why, “It’s me, live and in stereo”! 😉
Unlike the Netflix series, I wish I could list specific reasons why I became suicidal. I wasn’t raped by a family member or anything like that, and I really have a life which (although certainly far from perfect) I’m sure many would be envious of. All I know is that I “got tired” and had a rather quick “collapse” so to speak, and in a period of about a month went from an “A” student to dropping out of school. The subsequent stress of being 15 years old and having basically screwed up my life, was enough to push me to the edge (literally, in my case). 😛
Although I’ve long had a certain death ideation, such as even at age 7 or so saying I was going to go poison myself, I’ve never really labeled myself “suicidal”. However, I did at this time proceed to do the Big Three of suicide risk: Pick a chosen method (jumping), a date, and a specific location to KMS, and I did go to that location on the date in question. Therefore, I should probably admit to myself that counts as being suicidal. Seriously, if I had told a therapist or Crisis Line any of this, that would probably be serious enough to get the cops called on me. 🙁
But I didn’t tell anybody what I was doing. Ok, I mentioned a bit of how I was feeling to my big sister, and she went and told my mom. Annoying, but I know she was just being caring and trying to look out for me. The shit almost hit the fan, but I managed to convince them I wasn’t serious. Yes, I’m a very private person, and my suicide was going to be a more or less complete surprise to those left behind. Sorry, but you don’t really think of other people when in a strange mental state! 🙁
My chosen location was jumping from the top of Broken Arch in Arches National Park, Utah, located semi-near the main campground where I would be staying. It’s like jumping off a bridge, just it’s a natural bridge, and therefore much prettier. I’ve always liked natural arches, and see them as one of nature’s best creations, and they’re like magic portals into another world, and therefore a suitable place to leave the unpleasantness of this one. Broken Arch is about 60 feet high, which should be enough to be in the “death zone”, especially landing on solid rock. The arch isn’t actually broken, but rather has a large crack through the middle of the arch that’s resealed. I like that the arch has been through a lot and isn’t afraid to show its scars! Yes, I realize I’m personifying and connecting with inanimate objects, which is much easier than dealing with people! 😛 Anyway, a picture is worth 1000 words, so see above for where I intended to die.
By the way, what is it with suicidal people that we seem to identify with being “broken”? 🙁 For example, famous suicide victim Katelyn Nicole Davis had the username “dollyisbroken” and had her “Diary of a Broken Doll”.
Anyway, off to the side it’s possible to climb up and get on top of the arch. It’s not really safe and you’re not really supposed to, but as a jumper that didn’t stop me. I could sit right on the crack and look straight down to the ground, and you can even sit and dangle your legs over the edge. I was completely alone, and everything was still on a perfectly clear day, extremely peaceful actually. Nobody even knew I was there, and I didn’t leave a note or anything. (If you do leave a note and it’s found, people might come and try to stop you, and also if you don’t do it then going back becomes VERY awkward because the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak.)
I’m still here (obviously) so that means I eventually went off my arch and climbed back down. Maybe I wasn’t really serious, a part of me wants to live, or maybe I’m just too chickenshit to actually do it? A video is worth 1000 pictures, and this funny video reminds me of me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZkk2ZYhz0c 😉 I’m the girl in it (not actually) but her hesitating at the top of the cliff for 13 minutes is like me not jumping, and the words in it are not too dissimilar from my own internal dialog.
A strange thing happened while climbing Broken Arch. I discovered a second arch! It was small and pathetic (looking like how I was feeling) and was basically just a delicate separated layer of rock lifted slightly from the slope behind it, resulting in an opening a few feet wide and not much wider than a crack. But at the same time I noticed it, my foot landed on it, breaking it off. In other words, at Broken Arch I “broke an arch”! It’s like something had to die that day, and an ugly little arch sacrificed itself so I didn’t have to. 🙁 I found this surprisingly sad, and it of all things broke through my numb shell and made me feel the preciousness of life, even for something seemingly worthless like a bit of rock. By feeling for this arch and being sad it died, it made me by extension see some value in human life too, and therefore I could care more about my own.
It has occurred to me that there are several reasons why I didn’t go through with it. I love natural arches, and being in a favorite location is likely to make one feel better. The Utah desert is sunny, and sunshine is known to improve mood. Also, hiking out to and then climbing a natural arch is decent exercise, and physical activity is a great antidepressant. In summary, favorite environment + sunshine + exercise + the feels for a broken arch = didn’t jump! Remember this for good coping methods. 🙂
Anyway, I returned back to the campground, and nobody I was with knew what could have happened. Yes, if I had jumped, it’s likely they or the Park Service would have been the first, after a search, to find my body. I wasn’t thinking of anybody else at the time. Sorry, I don’t mean to be such a selfish and horrible person! 🙁 But I am alive, cracks and all, and so soon got to experience my 16th birthday, which actually didn’t suck! 🙂 To quote Robert Frost: “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life – It goes on.”
Hey, good day for everyone.
I won’t update about recent progress in the last goals [don’t have time atm]. But will bring up another problem I’m struggling with.
Lately I lost all control of my life. Lived in poor conditions, stopped working out, started spending time like a freaking zombie infront of my computer, hoping to get new notifications from anything! (even from advertisings) – you could call it a new level of loneliness, but for me it is just plain sad.
My idea of helping me to get into “work” will be using the following skills:
1. Taking responsibility; each individual and its own way of doing it. For me it will be reminding myself how I’m fucking things up, and that I have a wayout, all I need to do is to commit for it, and do the best I can. Else – if I fail, or not succeed, it is my fault and none else.
2. Focusing on steps and goals; given a place I want to get to, I shall focus on my steps into getting there. Theoretically it should help me focus more on “doing” than on “feelings”\problems etc…
Please, comment and give me ideas on how to take control of my life.
Let me know how you dealing with it.
anyway -> Stay strong, be brave! yours Jac.
ps; promise to update about effectiveness of the solutions that I brought up in my last 2 posts.
I recently had gotten 2 mind changing comments on some of my posts. It flooded me with thoughts, and eventually it made me decide the following.
I will start posting updates about changing one’s life from the worst to the best (I’m gonna be the guinea pig). Perhaps it is going to be taking some years, or maybe just months, but it will be “recorded” here, and solely for you.
Few FAQ before I start:
How is it related? – It is totally related as coping skills and will give real life examples.
Why would you do it? – Because I want to change, and I’m having hard times at life. Committing to such a World-wide community, will give me the power to keep on.
How will it work? – I don’t and won’t plan the whole thing. It should follow few basic concepts -> Frequently, Openly, General, Honesty, and scaling.
Back to the point: Let me know what you think? Let me know what aspects should be brought upon this “series of posts”? and in general, share with me your Ideas.
Since I don’t want this post to be removed, I will write here the post of day 1# :
Setting goals for long term: 1. minimize the use of social media applications (ex: facebook, tinder, whatsapp, etc…)
Reason -> Everybody is too busy showing off how great their life is, and make fantasies about what is normal.
2. Workout more often. [reasons for why to do are obvious]
3. Go to sleep early, and wake up early.[reasons for why to do are obvious]
I have a great test to study for, so tomorrow I’m going to fight myself waking up early, and studying as best as I can. I will upload later on this week about coping with “procrastination” and how to improve capacity.
Also I want to point out the feeling of being lonely. Right now coping with this will be through: 1. Focusing on studying and progress at hobbies [ in this case -> workout and studies]. 2. Decreasing the use of web/phone/media communication. 3. Going outside [doesn’t matter why or where] and staying at an open place for 30+minutes.
That’s all for now. Stay strong, Be brave, yours -> Jac.
today, i brought home my new kitten.
he is so small, and so sweet – and currently unnamed. i’ll update this post and tell you his name when i have chosen it.
update: his name is axle.
This is one of my first posts here.
A few years ago, I was in a pretty dark place. I was convinced that my life was a burden and that I’d never be able to shake the bad thoughts that came persistently. Every day was a struggle. Nothing was improving and I was getting suicidal thoughts.
Some of you may be in the same or a similar situation. Please know that things get better. I’m still here. I’m still fighting. It is a fight. It might be the hardest thing you do, but you’re worth it. You’re worth the fight and life is worth fighting for.
You have no idea how valued and needed you are in this world. People need you. People need your good. People you haven’t even met yet are going to need your talent, ability, effort, hope, happiness. Even your smile can mean the world to someone.
I truly believe that God gives His hardest assignments to His strongest soldiers, and that through these tests He makes them even stronger.
You are that soldier. He’s making you stronger. This pain won’t break you: it will make you.
I can’t emphasise it enough. It may some bleak now, it may seem like nothing is going right and that everything is just getting worse, it may seem like your life is just pointless, but you’re still here, and somebody needs you to be in their life. Your parents, your siblings, your family-members, your friends: they all need you because you have a good soul and your love makes their lives better, and your life is better for it.
Someone in a similar position to you is going to need you. They’re going to be hurting, they’re going to have those same doubtful thoughts, and you can provide to them that healing, that hope, because you’ve made it. You’ve endured the hurt that they’re going through.
Also, you deserve to be happy. Find what pure thing makes you joyful and celebrate in it. Remember it and go after it. Eat some chocolate. Watch a TV show from your childhood and enjoy being nostalgic. Listen to an uplifting song (James Taylor’s “Mexico” always makes me happy). Watch It’s A Wonderful Life (that film pulled me out of one of my darkest every days, and I believe it will do the same for you).
I understand that some of you don’t believe in God, but it was only by His Grace that I survived. Take faith and hope in Jesus Christ––He will save you and bring you into a joy and completeness you can not even imagine.
I’m praying for you all. Stay strong, be happy, and God Bless
It was an irritating morning, upset stomach and mind full of dreams. it was somewhere back to 2014, 12th grader, happily passed harsh teenage years, I was never anything special – in my own special way. Didn’t achieve too much, didn’t succeed at everything – “blank normal”.
“BACK in those days” :
I had my own problems: my dad wasn’t supportive or even “there”, even tho all allong he was 20 km away from me. Didn’t look good, was sick with horrible sickness, couldn’t find love, didn’t had time to go out with friends. Had avg grades even if I tried to get better. argh…. Regular teenage problems, am I right?
However, at 2014, I found myself fighting for my mom’s mental health. I didn’t expected to go on such a mental killing journey. She had suffered PTSD and went through a divorce. I found my self part psychologist, part friend, part parent and one of the main takers of our house and finance. All at age 18.
I wanted to share my burden with close friends, but those have been seen ditching me, each on his own way and reasons, thinking I lost time for them, doing nothing. They didn’t want to listen, and when they did, they could not comprehend. I felt like my pain is so horrible that they don’t even believe I have been through nightmares.
I never been a bad man, all I was seeking most of my life is some parents’ love, and to be raised as a kid – things I never had experienced thru my childhood. Maybe this can explain my “Lone wolf personality” – I live on my own, I feed on my own, but I still fight for everything I want, and keep on walking even when the “weather” is harsh. I manage to gain respect, and find girls that I like, and enjoy sole moments with close friends. Anyhow, I had to be like this in order to survive. And these hard days are yet to be gone. NOTE: my last birthday was forgotten by all of my friends, even most close ones. I guess that is what I get for being quite.
Last month, I celebrated 2 years of walking the “burden highway” – I gained money through hard work, helped my mom A-LOT, did 3 SAT and got to the best uni for engineering. I lost my “love of my life” – she didn’t want me anymore after a freaking week (she got cold feet) , I lost friends – they still like me, but I have lost all trust toward them. I LOST MY SANITY – can’t explain this one anyfurther. I lost my youth, and began feeling much more isolated than I really am. Beside my sole achievements as a young man (own a car, done first semester at uni – B cs EE , does street workout, well fit) I feel so lonely … on the verge of
After surviving few bad grades at Uni, After ignoring the fact that my best friends forgot my birthday, After knowing my (last which I care about) ex gf doesn’t give a fuck about me, After all other shit that happened and I still could operated as a regular human. I went through a breaking point. I thought I was doing well…
And then it happened…
I finished work and felt like I’m ready to kill myself. No real reason why, isn’t that a well known sentence?
I just felt that everything is shit, and that my damaged heart won’t ever heal. I felt that everyting I missed, already had done a hole in my soul, and that it will grow bigger with me growing older. I have already not seen friends for 160+ days, I have not felt free for over than 1000+ days, I have not felt useful for over 5000+ days. I wanted to kill my self.
I guess that seeing my mom again, helped me remembering what I’m fighting for. Because after coming back home, I had it all back together. Back to the acceptance of this shity path of llife, thinking that later on things will take a better turn.
You see? I didn’t had it easy, I “lost” things, and had to put off on social occasions and friendship, and love, and sexual relationships, or just …relationships.. and hobbies for a while… and to live with no money…. but in the end, I have had the best most efficient lessons I could get. I was taught what is tough work, what is university, the burdens upon being a grown man, paying for car’s hold cost, how to choose groceries and how to put up to a tough budget. I learnt how important is to be honest, and straightforward. I learnt how you should find a time for your close friends/family, and how open you should talk when words must be heard. I learned who liked me, and who is a true friend. I learned how to keep my head up and not to drown in rough seas. I learned how to support and how to be supportive. How to talk :
– into close-minded systems (aka banks/schools/healthcare sys’…)
– to women
– to friends
– to strangers
– to under employees
– as a leader
– as a part of a group
I sure did lost my sanity, but I gain more personality in the last 2 years, than I ever would in my whole life with out going through that hell.
Although I’m still having some fantasies about suicide, I keep on my mood up.
I know that staying optimistic is easy when everything at life is good, so I’m going to challenge myself, staying optimistic when everything is rough (like these years).
Personally, I don’t see how I meat new friends, or find a girl that I like. I don’t see a “way out of it”, but I know that things have to change- those are the laws of nature, and if I wait long enough, the right encounter will happen, and the right moment will be there. I will wait, I won’t be broken.
Stay tough, be brave, with regards, Jac.
At the very least, I hope this scatter-brained post will give you a laugh. Just kidding, I don’t hope for anything, save for what I mention in the following. Well, maybe some sections of this post will resonate with anyone who might read it some day.
Once I become financially stable and relatively successful, I might want to kill myself in complete sobriety so that I can prove this point to my dad: Not all suicides are a result of drug-ingestion or addiction. I’ve always wanted to die since I was a child. I even told my mom that “I want to go to Heaven already,” when I was in elementary school. I’ve only been living because other people are legally responsible for me right now, and I’d also feel bad for the chance of causing excruciating emotional pain for the remainder of my parents’ lives.
If I ever do end up going through with the day-dream of having a decisive, sober suicide, I want whoever cares to know that I have no regrets for committing that infamously “selfish” act. It is selfish, but who cares? We’re all selfish. If I burn in hell, so be it. At least it would be a constant, assured burning, I wouldn’t be mocked by experiencing happiness only to have it taken away, and then having it reappear, and then leave, rinse and repeat. Or who knows, maybe I will experience that torturous cycle in hell. And maybe my dad would refuse to believe that I committed suicide willingly with a clear head and no drugs, since he’s really good at denying reality and facts. Oh well, I don’t care about living, so I don’t care about the pain that I’ll cause to myself and my family. I’m not mentally ill, believe it or not. I could have gone a lifetime of living, but if my suicide can serve as evidence that suicides aren’t all caused by being drugged out or addicted to drugs (including alcohol, prescription medication, etc), and life (that I already dislike and see as trivial and repetitive in the first place) gives me even more of an incentive to not be a part of it, then I’d readily and gladly kill myself.
A good alternative: to have never been born to begin with. I never asked to live, and my parents never asked to give birth to an intrinsically life-hating baby (whom life subtly hates right back).
I don’t want to put in the effort to “seek help” or “get better” because there is no ailment (mental, emotional, or otherwise) to cure. It’s rational to think that life is unfair and cruel and unpleasant sometimes, and that life is also beautiful and kind and generous. It’s a cycle of ups and downs that I just never wanted to participate in. I think me being born was a mistake because I’ve always felt like I never belonged with the living. I feel like I was supposed to be dead and non-existent, but God or whatever made a mistake and chose a dead soul to bring into the living world on Earth. Or maybe I’m delusional. I feel like I’m not supposed to be alive because I don’t like the company of others, others don’t like my company, I don’t trust anyone for anything unless I’m desperate to keep my friendships and affairs in order to maintain my mask of productive living, I don’t enjoy doing anything, I often feel too lazy to live. Random note to imply how much I’m omitting from this post; I don’t care about my secrets, I’d tell all of the people I talk to about my deepest and darkest secrets, but I’d be involuntarily admitted to a psych ward or shamed or be subjected to any other negative reaction.
People live because they don’t think about how there’s a chance that their loved ones are stabbing them in the back, how insignificant their lives are in the grand scheme of the universe, how they and everyone they know will die anyway and future generations will bury our own into forgotten oblivion, how they are all just optimistically distracting themselves from how boring and tedious life really is without the thick and sturdy veil of naivety, ignorance, and lack of foresight.
I’ll die (half-preferably on “accident” so that my parents don’t think that I killed myself, half-preferably by suicide so that my dad personally knows that suicides [at least a very personal suicide] can occur without the implementation of drugs in my system) as a relatively successful, entirely sober virgin. Cringe but honest
- Regardless of everything, I love my parents and they love me. They’re the only ones who love me unconditionally, and understandably so. They told me themselves, they don’t care what becomes of me as long as I go to college and end up being happy. They raised me to the best of their abilities, and so far I’ve been academically high-achieving, ambitious… I start my first semester of college in a few hours, actually. It’s 2:08 am here and my first class is at 8:00 am. I just find ways to coexist with my desire to die for the time being. I can also distract myself from the reality. I’m not in a rush, but if a freak accident were to occur and I died right now or in the immediate future, I’d be so grateful.
This felt really good to convey, I’m glad a website like this exists.
I have an internal conflict going on where I know “revenge suicide” is really idiotic, but I just feel so strongly against my dad’s dumb opinion about suicides enough to add “proving him wrong” to my list of reasons why I would commit suicide. And although that is a recurring theme of this post, I wouldn’t commit suicide if my dads opinion was on the top 100 list of reasons. But I was thinking, if I am apathetic enough about life to commit suicide anyway, why not also be opportunistic and use it to make a statement against the idea that suicides are drug-driven. Honestly, I understand why my dad would think that. A lot of celebrities kill themselves (accidentally or purposefully) with drug overdose. Also, humans are known for that impermeable survival instinct. It’s pretty common for people to attempt suicide while high/drunk/asleep due to medication so that the survival instinct doesn’t kick in and scare them out of doing it. I guess my dad is old-fashioned and doesn’t believe that mental illness has the strength to equip affected people with the bravery/desperation needed to off themselves without the help of drugs.
Lately I’ve ben having these migraines that take everything that’s in me to stand. It’s not new, I used to have them daily until they somehow, the same pain transferred to my stomach. I got it checked out by a doctor long back and he gave me pills and said I was fine to go. Now the pain is back and it’s stronger than ever. I’m not being over dramatic or anything but it hurts to the point where I actually think there’s something wrong with me. Before I got back to my country I got a strong one and I literally cried myself to sleep because of it. Going to the doctor isn’t as easy as everyone preserves it to be. I told my mom the other day that I needed to visit the doctor and she said she’d take me but of course like always she’ll keep trying to make me forget about it. Just like last time. I knew there was something wrong and I told her that I wanted to get a blood test, she pushed it back a year until she finally took me and it turned out my vitamin levels were low. There were other things wrong to, just not important to discuss. I want to tell the doctor how I’ve been feeling for the past years but I just can’t. I don’t know if she’s going to take me to see a doctor but even if she does I don’t know how to describe what’s happening to me to the doctor.
I honestly am not sure where to start this all off. This is a very long story, just to let you know. For starters, I am a 20yo male. I’ve dealt with severe clinical depression, anxiety, and anger issues since I was 11yo.
I am a current EMT and am a Paramedic student in Maryland. I joined the fire department when I was 17, and have been an EMT since I was 18.
One of my first calls as a 17yo EMT student, it had been a pretty tough day. We had already run a cardiac arrest, and I was in general having one of my down days. We get dispatched for a gunshot wound, and I had recognized the address as that of my best friend’s. He and I both being avid hunters and gun-nuts overall, I thought maybe he had an accident.
I hopped on the ambulance and we went lights and sirens to the scene. When we got there, his sister, whom was my age and we both liked each other at the time, immediately runs out of the house down the front lawn and practically tackles me, sobbing uncontrollably. At this point, I knew something bad had happened.
***NOTE: THIS NEXT PORTION WILL BE DESCRIBED GRAPHICALLY. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK***
When you enter the front door of my friend’s house, it leads directly into the living room, and there is a doorway in one corner that leads to the kitchen. It’s not a very big house, to say the least.
I walked in the front door, and immediately noticed blood spatter with brain matter on the wall in the living room, next to the doorway into the kitchen, and there were already police on the scene as well. As soon as I saw the blood and brain matter, I instantly knew what I was about to walk in to, though I denied it to myself. But once I walked into the room, any denial was crushed into non-existence. There, on the floor of the kitchen, was my childhood friend, with the back of his head missing, and blood and brain pouring from his mortal wound. His favorite gun in his collection, a .410 revolver some may know as “The Judge”, lay a few feet away from his lifeless body. I stood in the doorway for what seemed like hours, until the man who I was being trained by told me to radio dispatch and call in a priority 4 (DOA). Now normally I do not show emotion on any scenes as to remain in a calm mental state to treat my patient’s, and have become very good at it. But I looked at him, my eyes glazed with tears building in the corners, and then I could see in his face that everything clicked, between my silence and the shocked look on my face, to my friend’s sister running up to me as I consoled her. He gave me a sad look and nodded, and he called it in for me. I felt myself falling back, and reached for the wall behind me, where I leaned against it and slid myself down onto my haunches, covering my face with my hands as tears streamed freely down.
It was at that moment that I heard a shrill scream, and I had realized that his mother and father had been in the kitchen with us this whole time. My friend’s father and mother were on their knees, her face buried in his chest and sobbing/screaming, and him looking between me and what had once been his only son and my best friend with red, swollen eyes streaming with tears. She had screamed because she looked up after a while of her face being against her husband’s chest and saw that I was there. It was at that point where I lost it, falling back on my rear and hanging my head, sobbing. My friend’s sister came over to me at one point and sat next to me, holding my hand and sobbing. I had been through so much with my best buddy. From starting kindergarten together, and from that point ending up in almost all of the same classes as each other, to hiking half of the Appalachian Trail with each other, and so much more. And it was all over. I would never see him again. It was about 2 months before we graduated high school together.
In the note he left, he pertained it mostly to his family and myself. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re the only one this will hurt.”
That Monday, I entered my school, wearing my “idiot #2” shirt that I wore with him every Monday. Except I was missing “idiot #1”. I felt the entire school hallway go silent, as there were people standing in the hall, on the stairway going to the second floor, and some of the faculty standing at the entrance to the office, and I felt the tears begin to stream down my cheeks. At this point, I began to see other people crying as well, while some were audibly sobbing, with some people just hearing about it for the first time. I got many looks of sadness, understanding, and some of pity. I barely made it through that day, and it seemed as though none of the teachers were interested in teaching that day either, as every single class we watched a different movie.
I went to my friend’s funeral, which they were able to do open casket by cleaning up and covering the parts of his head where the wound was. I had been asked to give a few words some days before the funeral. I had been sitting in the front with his family, and when I was asked to come up to the podium, I stood there looking down for a few minutes at him. I looked down at his resting face, but all I could see was the sad, bloody, broken face that I had seen not but a couple weeks prior. As I began to speak, I had to stop 3 or 4 times to keep myself from breaking down. I talked the whole way through tears with a wavering voice. I shared stories of our childhood, growing up together, being idiots together, and all the fun times we had together, as well as the not-so-fun times. I shared the story in lighter detail of that call I ran, from how his sister ran to me, to when I collapsed on the floor. As I looked around the sanctuary of the church, I realized how many people were there. Keep in mind this church is massive and the limit for people per the fire department (which I helped with) is 850 people, and all the pews were packed, and there were people flooding the floor, the three sided balcony, and I saw that the front doors were opened with people standing outside, many from the school. I saw all of his family, local shop owners, teachers, fellow students, teammates, and the entire Fire Department was there. I was told later that over 900 people were originally counted, with possibly over a hundred more slowly trickling in throughout the funeral.
Sometimes, I wonder if he had known how many people cared, would that have changed his mind. Would he still be here today.
I post this 1) to get it off my chest, 2) to let you know I know what it’s like to feel this way, and 3) I can tell you what it would most likely be like if you killed yourself. After seeing the way his family, classmates, teammates, and even people who didn’t know him that well reacted, as well as my reaction, people do care, even if they don’t always show it. For those wondering why I am still in the Fire Department, my friend’s suicide, while tragic and heartbreaking, encouraged me to continue helping others who are in their darkest hours of need. It has strengthened me to be able to see that I do everything I can for my patient’s, no matter how dire their situation or condition is.
Thank you for reading this, and just know that you are loved. Don’t be afraid to cry out for help. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, it just means you’re very strong.
Things are back to getting worse. I don’t know if I can proceed anymore, go threw all the upcoming months, get a year older, it’s just too much. I still have to finish high school and I don’t know how to feel about that. I want to escape. Get as far away as I can from this country but in order to do so I’ll have to get a scholarship and because of my background I don’t think I’ll be able to get one. Even if I do get one, I won’t be accepted for who I am, or at least I don’t think I would. I don’t know how to describe myself, all I can say is that I have my moments. At times I am confident enough to get up in front of a crowd and give a speech but at other times I can’t say hello to a certain person. I want to be able to breathe but coming back to my country suffocates me.
I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s like there is more than one soul in me. I have to make a choice, either be too kind and suffer the consequences or be heartless and later come crashing down. I could also just stay the way I am right now but the thing is I don’t feel fine. I could never stay like this. Ignoring the way I feel is killing me. I’m just tired and sick of this life. I feel so selfish, I have everything I need to be able to survive yet I’m still depressed. I just can’t go back. Summer is almost over and school is close but I don’t think I will be able to make it. It is the same routine daily for four more years, I just can’t, I can’t. I’m still young but I feel so lost. I have to make so many decisions that will change my life and build my future, that’s if I have a future.
One thing i´ve always thought of is that it´s so scary when someone mentally ill and suicidal (me) falls in love. We start feeling whole again. Like we´ve got a purpose, a reason to be here and a reason to start and try.
But one thing that really scares me and hurts me inside to think of is that; what happens when the person who´s saved me leaves? What happens when the person takes away all the hope and love and beauty and rip out all the stitches they used to put in their partner together again and the broken soul is left worse than they were before.
I´ve been dealing with depression for 8 years straight and the suicidal thoughts keep coming back every now and then. I´m not gonna go deep into the details of everything that has ruined me. But I feel like a disappointment to everyone i have ever interacted with and they all end up leaving in the end and everyone treats me like shit all the time, They treat me as If i dont have any emotions, it hurts Because Im “allowing” them to treat me like that and i feel so weak Because i cant control it. And i Get very upset and hurt so fast and easily. Everything i do is always a mistake to everyone. I try my best to do nothing wrong to the one person i really love with my whole heart, but i somehow always manage to fuck that up. Im so scared that he´ll leave me, he is the only one who makes me feel good when im so depressed, he makes me forget about everything and he is the only person i really have left.
But i have fucked up so many times by either saying or doing the wrong things (even how hard i try not to) and i know that he will leave me eventually, and i know that things will get so much worse for me If he leaves, the suicidal thoughts will get ten times worse than they already are if he leaves. I wanna end my life before he decides to leave me, because im not able to go through much more pain, and i dont have any purpose to live besides him. I´m just really hurt tbh and the thought of suicide is the only thought that makes me smile atm, and i want to find a painless way out of this world
I want to end my life, But i want to end it in a way that doesnt hurt the people around me. I’ve come to learn that this life really aint for me, i tried for so many years to stay strong and fight the pain Im feeling, But its absolutely impossible and Nobody really understands the mental illness Im going through. I dont really like to talk about my depression to a lot of people, Cause they think that Im calling for attention or that its no big of a deal. But i really wish They knew What Im going through
My biggest problem is that i have a lovely boyfriend that tells me he loves me and cares for me and i know that If i Kill myself it will affect him. And i love him too much to hurt him in any way possible. So Basically i wanna end my life without hurting him.
I just really wanna end it as fast as possible. I’ve attempted 4 times in my whole life and failed all the times i’ve tried and What hurts the most isnt the fact that i’ve attempted, But the fact that i failed hurts the most. Please help me. I cant handle this much pain in life. What can i do?
I’ve been a lurker here for quite sometime, I have read so many post, replies and whatnot, that my head is filled with swimming thoughts.
I understand all too well, what has brought you all here…what has brought me here.
Seems, that most of wish to be free from existence, from the pain….we all have reasons why we want to go, some more than others. We all have a reason that life is not as it seems but a form or “HELL”.
With all that in mind, I have a question. All I want is death, all I want is peace, to no longer exist.
About 6 months ago, I tried to take my life with real intent, and in as much, I did. I died, I was gone into a black void. I felt warm and at peace…everything was okay…until…. They got me back. I woke eventually to a hospital room full of tubes, wires and bleeping machines. I was so confused and totally pissed off.
Again I wanted nothing more than to be dead. I breathe death and yet, here I am (was) in ICU, alive. Why am I not dead, I kept asking myself. They pain of being “saved” devastated me. I was dead and happy. I was found blue/gray skin with no heartbeat or respiration.
Now to make the point of this post….
I want to die so badly and yet, I am so numb to emotions that honestly when my mother dies, I would shed no tears. And 3 months, later that is what happen. She did die and we were so close and I felt nothing.
To this day, I feel nothing, other than jealousy that she is gone far from here and I am stuck in this crazy masses called humans.
I don’t want to be here anymore, but it seems, as if I have no choice. I’m scared of failing yet again. (although, I did die)
So, please, help me understand something that I cannot compute. I want to die more than anything and yet; I have hit a bottom of depression that out weighs, living or death. But in that sense, I guess, you could say I was more rock bottom when I tried self deliverance.
I am so far gone in my depression; that killing myself just seems like work, when all I want to do is sleep. I honestly, 100% feel no emotion at all. I am in a dark void of nothingness and while I like it, it won’t give me what I seek right now. I just want to stop existing.
Do any of you feel this way?
I really am ready to die, I am just conflicted.
I have no family anymore, no friends. (my closest friend, now lives in another country far from here and we only communicate these days through email. Time difference is hard.) Mainly due to the fact that before this, I was with a man that was abusive. (Emotionally that is) but it still hurts. When his mask fell down, I saw the hate in his eyes, the gleam of pure joy, all at the same time. I am so confused on far too many levels at this point. And I am sorry if I rambled on, and on, and on, yet again. I just really needed to say that and ask.
I am so depressed that I am emotionally/numb in all ways to do anything, much less kill myself at this moment. I want it so badly and yet, I just do not care. I feel, like I walking down the lane to the “underground” waiting to catch the tube. I barely make it, and spend almost 6 hours on it. Going back and forth, back and forth.
I type this and look over at my large cylinder full of N2. And telling myself, “just do it. Do you really want to spend the next 30 years behind bars at a accident? One in which said person has created.
How can someone get so depressed that even suicide isn’t enough to take the pain away for a bit? I am there. I want nothing more than to die and yet, I am so void of emotion, I just do not care.
Why, is that?
I do not think I am capable of being loved. I fear that I am never going to be able to find someone who will love me the way I fail to love myself. It has always been my only hope. What if it’s the only way all of this will ever get better? To find the right person who will always be there for me. The thing is I’ve been lied to so many times that I don’t think I can trust anyone anymore. People talk to me when they need something then they just disappear. If I refuse to do what they ask for I’m immediately considered as this crazy ***** that seeks attention. I think that all it takes is someone who deeply cares. Someone that will be there when it is 3am and I’m up with my thoughts. However, how am I supposed to be loved when I can’t even love myself?
Okay. So I don’t really know how this works. What if someone I know finds this, what then? How am I going to explain all this. When people I know see my cuts they judge and say I do it for attention so what will they think if they ever found this? I just need my space, I want to be able to express my thoughts without being scared but I guess fear is always going to be there.
After getting accepted to the Uni’ (a really good world known one), I have finished my first semester with an average grades of 75.
75 means – No jobs as a student, hard time finding job once I’m out, and other shitty stuff.
But what is worst is the fact that I went back home. I went back to the nothing I have. To the environment where I have to work a lot while my…. UsedToBe Friends, got their parents as financial backup.
I feel just the way I felt as a 4th grader – Isolated, powerless, incompetent.
My spirit as a fighter died, I feel alone, I feel like a freaking loser. I seriously did my best to get so far. I have lost friendships, lost love, gave up opportunities to be a teenager, I have grown up to be a man at early years, so I could have had supported my family. All of this just so I could wake up an August 2017, look up at the mirror and see “that average guy” again?
For me it seems like everyone has a good reflection in their own ways, but I have none. I see a person who hides the weights of his problems. I see myself as the same old 4th grader caring the future of his family at the age of 20 y.o only. When his “friends” don’t understand it, and nobody really knows what is up my head.
You know dear readers? I had dreams. I wanted to skate just like tonny hawk. I wanted to travel the world on my own. Even further, I wanted to create an ACTIVE organization in my country to support children who had nothing, just like I had. and I wanted to make this organization with the money I will make with hard work.
Right now I can’t afford nothing, and will probably, after I get off this computer, I’m going to keep living my boring tough and average life. Won’t jump, won’t suicide, won’t drink… I would just go to sleep feeling soulless, keeping my commitment on “not giving up”.
In a way, I wished I was suicidal, I wish I was happy, I wish I was sad…. But none, I’m just that average guy. I’m just a dead man inside a shell of a 20y.o man, who keeps carrying every piece of shit he can, and believe that in a few years he will graduate and be one of the top engineers in the whole word. Do you see it happening? I see it happening. But reality does not.
I guess I am scared a little….would love to hear from you guys, how did you manage to keep up? how did you manage to stand on your feet after you have fallen down?
anyhow, hope you have a nice day, week, year….
I’m afraid of writing this post because they might be watching this web-site. I talk and they pretend not to listen, but they’re watching me closely.
I discovered this weeks upon accidently stumbling upon Narcissist parents. They resemble this parenting style the most. When I learned about narcissism. It all everything clicked. Why I’m so unhappy. Why my self-esteem is so low to almost non-existing. Why my parents confused me, and yet I never wanted to blame them for fear that I’ll upset them like feel their wrath if you challenge let alone question it their ego.
Here, I thought that my mom was overprotected and my dad was just an asshole, but it’s more than that. It’s a disorder. Narcissist families unlike a healthy family are like a bunch of druggies whiffing up each other’s toxic perfume of negative energy. It’s like discovering that your parents are secretly these alien spiders underneath their human skin, and just the mommy spider she’s drain your fluids with her secret fangs as she gently holds you, cooing and awing you with her hairy legs. The thought scares me and I love spiders.
I’m happier for learning the truth. I never felt like this family was real love, and my intuition was right. This love hurts and it’s pushing me to death. I must accept that I’ll never win mom and especially dad’s approval. I must de-attach myself from them and reattach to healthy caring people in society. The question remains do I still put of with them or leave? I need advice because everybody’s escape plan is different. I must find my broken core.
I tell myself, one more step, every day. When I wake up, I think, just one more day. I try to keep my mind on one day, one moment, at a time. Because when I begin to let my mind drift, I start to slowly drift away. Sliding into an uncontrollable downward spiral. I cannot keep living my life through the small window I have allowed myself. I feel as if I am completely alone. My boyfriend, is gone. Our relationship fell apart after I lost our baby due to a miscarriage. My rape case against my father has been dismissed. So, he is on the loose again. My family doesn’t call. I am alone. I walk down the streets of my town, and see all of the families, and think, what it would be like to have someone like that who was so close. Then, I realize that I am judging. I don’t know what any of those people are going through, just as they are oblivious to my life. I will continue going one step at a time, but sooner or later, that step will be impossible to take and I will greet death with a smile upon my face.