Hey guys, if you see this and want/need to talk. I’m always open to talk. I really want to make someone(anyone) feel like they are worth it….
Stories of Hope
I’ve lost hope in my life ever turning around again. My mother has been abusive to me for years now and no one ever listens. I’ve been trying to get out of the house for years now. I’ve talked to social workers many times. It never works. I’m not in a good place. I only have about a year and a half left at home but it’s still hard. I don’t know if I can handle living on much longer. The only one who actually messages me to make sure I’m okay is my brother in law who lives two states away. No one else cares. I have lost hope in myself. I give up.
I’ve really let myself go. I was at my ideal weight when I was a teen I was 160, and I am big bone, so 145 to 160 is ideal. I loved eating healthy and exercising, and I did all forms such as pilates, yoga, weight lifting, and cardio. I also had the teen metabolism, so I could a whole medium pizza from Domino’s once in a while and still run all over the place. I was lacto oavo vegetarian too, so again I ate these weird but healthy foods such soy milk, or sea weed. Not only I was I thin, but apparently I was attractive, or I thought I was.
But I didn’t feel happy, deep down I felt worthless, so I threw it all away.
Years later. I weigh over 250 pounds. Yes, it take years to weigh this much. Took eating out and gulping downing X-large drinks of Mountain Dew. Found out that one of those has 550 calories. Isn’t that equal to a burger and fries? Now that I’m not doing anything anymore. I’m starting to exercise again. Never realize that I was that good at exercise back then. Today, I did pilates and for some reason doing different types of leg lifts hurt my hip flexors, and back then these exercises were easy. I can’t do regular push ups anymore, let alone the lady push ups. Ad work-out kills me, but I think my body is slimming down slowly. I need to barely touch soda, and eating out. I need to add pilates more into my workout. A reason I started exercise is because my weight keeps going up, and my blood pressure is sometimes 120/90 which isn’t good. I’m working muscles that I haven’t worked in so long. I just keep expecting someone to ruin it for me though.
after years of suffering, it’s getting good at last.
i think i’m feeling happy and it seems to last for a while. the question here is, why did God tortured me like that?
i know that the day would come that everything will turn upside down again and i will feel down and suicidal -since no happiness is everlasting and no sadness, too- and i think that i’m not ready for that day.
i definitely feel stronger than before all these things happened to me – i don’t really want to say what i’m referring to by “these” – but i don’t like the idea of being put into this life by force and then being tortured to become stronger without knowing what’s this all about. i feel kind of lonely and empty. i can never forgive god for all those suffering, even though i know it was good for me. i never wanted this life, and even if one day comes that all the happiness in the world is mine and i find true meaning of all these, i still can’t forget my dark days and i still can’t forgive god for all the times that i was left alone and i desperately needed him and he didn’t show up (i finally survived and now i’m happy, but it was too late and i’ve suffered more than enough)
i wish i could end this life. but there’s this undeniable survival instinct inside me.
wish me luck
I thought I should be a leaning shoulder to several people out there willing to put an abrupt end to their lives.
Firstly, it is safe to say I have been down that road as well and I know exactly what it feels like to be empty and isolated. I held on to one string (scratch that, two strings actually) : my pregnant girlfriend and God… If my girlfriend wasn’t pregnant, I probably wouldn’t be writing this today because I wouldn’t have anything/anyone to look back to… She loves me too much to hurt her. Then, God! I remembered everything they said about suicide, how one will end up in hell after suicide, irrespective of what made you do it.
Food for thought, are you sure you wanna suffer through it all here and continue suffering in much more greater pains after you die?
I am not a spiritual nor religious person, but I have a very firm belief in God. I am not here to preach the doctrines to you but I will make you see reasons why you are going through what seems to be forever and why you shouldn’t take your own live.
Like I mentioned, whoever wants to talk about anything – please lemme know, I will be glad to listen to you and talk to you as much as you want to listen to me.
Every suicidal person has a friend in me and I am here to help.
I am indebted in you!
According to the site’s FAQs, if there are multiple posts in a row, then they will be all? deleted. The site recommends one post per day for the maximum. I love being on here, and being able to write my honest thoughts and feelings, and have a thoughtful audience to engage if they feel like it. It helps to relieve my stress and depression, which it starting to get better. Thank-you, guys.
I always had a theory about purpose of the outcast, the person the majority doesn’t like, so they mess with him or her. Don’t think theory more like a thought is the right word. It can be argued that the outcast can change their behavior such as learning people skills, maybe their appearance as well to be more accepted into society, yet at the same time I feel as if it’s an excuse to keep this person down like this is your fault, so we have a right to make you miserable. I heard a story once about someone changing herself such as liking what her bullies like, but they just hated her even more. Still, there are some things that can’t be helped like a disability or a scar across their face.
I once read that bullying has been argued to weed out others who are or were deem unfit for society, in other words those that are considered “weak”. It’s to keep the herd fit and healthy. You can see this behavior across the animal kingdom where the sickly or “outcast” animal is left to die, fend to his or her self, or gets killed by the group. If you have studied Sigmund Freud’ work about the superego, ego, and id, you can understand what I’m about to explain next. I believe the bullying behavior is the ego balancing out the human from killing the human, which is the id, and the knowing that killing is wrong, the superego, so humans can’t have that simple instinct of leaving the sickly behind because we’re evolved to have this conscious.
I didn’t finally figured out the outcast’s purpose until I read about wolves, who do have an interesting hierarchy. Only the alphas have the breeding rights, then you have the betas, and at the bottom is the omega. The omega does have an important role. They are the glue that holds the pack together. The alphas uses the omega as a stress reliever by keeping him at the bottom, however once the omega gets tired of way he has been treated and decides to leave, it has been witnessed that the wolf will sit and do nothing for a certain amount of days to mount the lost of their omega. This sounds similar to how people treat the outcast and as much as I hate to say it, but the outcast is pretty much the punching bag. Yep, they use the outcast to make themselves feel better. The outcast is the scapegoat used to carry everyone else’s sorrow and guilt. They can shift their negativity on the someone else, so they don’t have to focus on themselves, and when the outcast leaves they will have to deal with their problems and on top of that deal with the loss of someone who was actually important.
As if it wasn’t already a ***** enough. Fuck sakes you deal with the trivialities daily. The unending grind and minutiae. The milieu of reckless absolvency. Fuck, you go from the boredom to the banality. It’s all stupid shit.
Introduce the legal system or any of the bullshit bureaucracy into the fuckshow that is life and it becomes a whole new ball game. Fuck the legalities and hoops it makes you jump through. For real. Fuck incarceration.
Six weeks ago, on the Saturday, I put up a post that I had given up and was going to end it.
However, my conscience got the better of me, and I stepped back from the brink (quite literally, as I had a noose around my neck and was ready to jump) and reached out once more. Some of you here supported me wonderfully, and for that I am really grateful.
My psychiatrist upped one of my meds, and prescribed me some sleeping meds, and that was part of what helped me, as it gave me the breathing space and strength to tackle some really gnarly psychological issues.
Then my psychologist suggested I write a book about my journey. Turns out she’s been sitting on that idea for a year, but only now does she think I’m ready, and I agree. She’s very good st what she does!
So I actually started. And I don’t think it’s just a pipe dream. Two of her patients have done it before, one poetry, one prose, and both got paper-published, not just as an e-book.
It’s quite a journey, digging through decade old diary entries, hospital notes and other material to stitch together my journey as authentically as possible.
I just thought I’d share this. This endeavour had given me hope that maybe I can heal in such a way that I won’t relapse again, or at least not that severely.
I’m irritated to say I’m writing about this particular “friend” again. I’m beyond angry with him. If you don’t know we and him have a history of “love” together. The last time I hung out with him he was kissing me on the cheek, cuddling with me, laying on my leg/ chest and jealously asking about my love life. Which to me seemed as thoughts still like me but boy was I fucking wrong.
Today I found out that he lead me on and fucked me over for my sister. At first he refused to tell me, saying I would be mad at him forever. Damn he was right about that. He told me after my sister and her boyfriend broke up he’s going to be hooking up with her. But this isn’t the first time he’s done this to me. He did this to me for some ***** in Ohio he met only for a short time. I should have ended it there.. I really should have but being the idiot that I am stuck with him because I loved and pitied him. He had the same issues as me. I wanted to love and help him.. but fuck.. I was wrong about that too. He used me only when he really needed it. I was a tool.
Damn, I was a fool to think he would change his way. He kept telling me he still cared about me after he told me. But I don’t believe that. If he cared he would not have lead me on again like that. I don’t care what happens to him now. He’s on his own and lost someone who was willing to help and care for him when he needed it. He can gladly go fuck himself. I hope karma comes back at him tenfold for making me look like an idiot.
I don’t want to say goodbye. I want to reach out to others and remember where I came from. If I don’t do that then I feel like I’d be just as bad as those who didn’t help me.
I’ve been depressed for 7-8 years. That’s off and on. I know people who have had it worse. This last episode lasted almost a year. That’s about 7 months falling into a hole, and 6 months currently climbing back out.
The last few weeks have brought many changes. I finally got a good therapist. I have returned to church. I’m starting to do things I enjoy again. The stretch of darkness makes me distrust the relative light of a new day. Yet the sun rises and so do I.
There is no way out but through for me. I haven’t found where I belong in the long term, but I have things to hope for. Children represent quite a bit of hope for me. It also seems that certain people want me around for a bit longer. I can make people laugh, what else can I ask for? I’m also enjoying seeing certain people who hurt me finally receive back the karmic revenge they brought on themselves. The funny part is I had let go and forgiven as best as I could. That doesn’t diminish the joy of seeing those people get what they have coming. The joy is more sweet knowing that I did not do anything to return their hate. I licked my wounds and I’m getting better.
The world may not be a friendly place. I just know I can make my personal universe a pleasant one.
I just wanted to share that better is possible. It was also important to me to explain why I am here less.
He is in the CCU and he tried to slit his wrist open and failed. He almost died he is in the hospital. Sorry for the death the hospital just called and said he is in critical condition.
email@example.com if any questions
I’m gonna do it from me to humanity hold on and don’t give up stay strong.
It will be rope this time
I’m not sure if anyone remembers me, because I only posted two times. But here I am again.
To catch up on my life currently, last August (august 1st 2016) I tried to kill myself, on July 29th I posted my goodbyes to the world on this site. Thankyou so much for the kind words that night. And well I took the pills I had (all but like 5 of them, because I ran out of water). And I lied down on the floor to die.
And yes, I did take enough to kill myself, and I would of died if I didn’t call 911. I don’t really want to go into much detail, but my thoughts exactly was “I’ll call 911, and I’ll die in the ambulance, I don’t want my sister to find me dead” At that point I was not thinking straight, and was stumbling around. So it was about an hour or so after I took the pills, and I called. I wasn’t able to walk downstairs and open the door so I woke my sister up to do it. When the EMT’s got to my house, I lied. I lied so hard to their faces. I told them I only took 10-12 pills oh god little did they know. Eventually I was getting transported to the hospital, and as soon as I lied down in the ambulance I fell asleep. Apparently half way through the ride they realized something wasn’t right, and I guess they turned on the lights. Something was wrong with my heartbeat (no shit rly?! I wonder why)
I woke up around the time they wheeled me in (just a little bit tho) and they had me change and stuff (I could barely stand up) time passed and I was asleep, they forced me to drink activated charcoal (long story about how they got me to)
then I went to In-Patient and RTC treatment for three months. I did have a weekend where I got out, and posted something, but that’s another story.
I got out and I wasn’t doing so hot, but I pushed through, even when I didn’t want to. I caught up with my school work ( I even got ahead) and I have a job (I’m 16) my boyfriend, ended up breaking up with me ( I don’t really blame him) and then we got back together about two months ago. Personally, I think I’m gonna breakup with him for other reasons (no hard feelings, it’s long distance)
And now it’s summer again, and hopefully this summer will be so much better. I plan on it. I’m going to camp in a few weeks, and my new best friends birthday is on Saturday. Things do get better. And key advice I would give anyone who is going through stuff, is that You are the one who changes, it is your choice to stay suicidal and sad, and it’s not always easy to not go down that path but it is definitely worth it.
I’m glad I can sit here and say “I know I won’t kill myself, and I know I won’t die till I’m old”
thankyou to everyone who ever tried to help me, it means a lot.
Today I attempted to kill myself by overheating in the car. I drove to school, parked in the lot and didn’t get out. I was sitting in there for over an hour and a half. The only reason why I’m here now was because my best friend saved me. I texted him as I was sitting in the car telling him about how much I was sorry and how I appreciated him a lot for all he has done. I was practically telling him goodbye.. He got worried (I think as any other great friend would do in this situation) and asked me were I was at.. I promised to tell him if he didn’t call the authorities.. which he promised in the end. Long story short, he found me and took me out to get sheetz so I could replenish all the water that I had lost within that hour and a half attempt.. we talked then he took me to my parents house to explain what happened. My mom got angry (because I’m guessing that’s how she expressed her concern and didn’t understand what was going on) but after my friend, me and my mom all talked.. we were all fine..
I almost took my life because of how lonely I’ve felt althrought my 20 years of being alive. I envied those who had so many friends to help them. I wished I had that. But I guess I’m blind to see that even thought I don’t have many people to talk to I have one friend who would do anything for me..
I have been struggling with rapid cycling bipolar now for almost 4 years.
These 4 years where the longest and worse years of my life.
I lost interest in hobbies lost allot of friends and ended up in a psychiatric communitie home with 24h nursing it sucks.
I have this small room to myself and im spending more and more time alone my old friends are all gone moving on starting families or building a nice career or future.
Now im here all alone stuck alone hopeless with no plan for a future I been suicidal now for a couple of weeks I just want to end it all I cannot stand it anymore..
If someone wants to have a chat my kik is : depresseddutchman93
I hope you are doing okay, and it is okay if you are not.
Sometimes I do not feel okay, and I almost ended my life because of it.
I have allowed myself to heal for three years before making the decision to share my story. This is not easy; the feeling of being vulnerable is hard to swallow, but I have accepted the social ramifications of allowing myself to open up publicly. I want to help others by sharing my experience because I know how it can feel to be alone. This piece carries a heavy trigger warning.
At some point, simple tasks became overwhelming and I stopped caring. The ability to express emotions and empathy ceased to exist. I cannot begin to describe the feeling that you feel when you lose connection with yourself. I became tired of being me, and it was a scary realization when I discovered that the person who was controlling my body was not supposed to be. It was never about death; it was more about shutting down the pain.
I believed that the night of my attempt was my last night. I stopped fighting. I was going to end it all. However, I realized that the end only happens when you stop fighting. I was not in a fit state to make decisions, but I knew I needed to find a safe environment to protect myself and to get help. My journey started in an ambulance and I spent a week in the hospital – I told my story until it felt like somebody else’s story. I talked to professionals, and the time spent with them was valuable. I got knocked down which did not mean I had to stay down, and getting to the point where you feel nothing does not have to be the end.
For three years, I let my mental health and the guilt of my attempt define me. Today, I know my pain is valid – my attempt did not make me weak. We all have moments of weakness, and we grow and learn to love and take care of ourselves. My story lives with me, but it does not define who I am anymore. I believe that my existence proves that I can make a difference in my own life; a life that is uniquely my own.
Please reach out to a family member, friend, support line:
trans lifeline: 877-565-8860
depression hotline: 1-630-482-9696
suicide hotline: 1-800-784-8433
trevor project (A 24-hour, toll free confidential suicide hotline for LGBTQ youth): 1-866-488-7386
sexuality support: 1-800-246-7743
eating disorders hotline: 1-847-831-3438
rape and sexual assault: 1-800-656-4673
grief support: 1-650-321-5272
runaway (for when you are thinking of running from home, if you have a friend who has runaway, or if you are a runaway ready to go home): 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
exhale: after abortion hotline/pro-voice: 1-866-439-4253
It’s funny how the people you were closest to can forgot you so fast, move on like you were never here.
It’s somewhat comforting at the same time because I now know that when I leave, I’ll be forgotten just as fast.
I think about him everyday. He left me broken.
As we try to survive in this world we live in
We seek out meaning for the life that was given
Some search for it their entire youth
Yet little find it or see the truth
Majority give up when all hope is lost
Others are consumed by the lies they came across
We all believe it gets better after it gets worse
But those words do not apply on this curse
Even if we tried to satisfy every need
There is no cure for one’s greed
It destroys us like a cancer
That’s the only true answer
No matter what peace we find
It is always not enough in our mind
Creating doubt in everything we do
Uncertainty in the ones close to you
We only wish to try to find the right light
But our choices are like the stars at night
Wanting to feel like you are alive again
Wishing that all this suffering would end
No one teaches us to how cope
We do instead learn to hope
I haven’t been on here for a while because of work. My back sore from sweeping soil and my feet are forming blisters. Last night, I had a dream that I had two sons. Hopefully this is a prophecy, but highly not. I will never get my ducks in a row. Besides, I know people have hinted that I shouldn’t have kids. I can tell if I brought them into this world, people will be ready to tear them apart. I know they want me gone, they’re too much of a ***** to admit it.
I sometimes get baby fever. It can also get bad when I’m on my period. I talk about these feelings to other women, and they either don’t have them, or don’t know what I’m talking about. I fantasize about being pregnant. What does it feel like to be pregnant? Would I be sitting on the couch eating gallons of ice cream? Have a heighten sense of smell? Hugging those big pillows?
If I did get pregnant, I wouldn’t let anyone expect my family know. At work, I could put on more T-shirts, or tell people that I don’t know why I’m putting on weight? Act like it’s no big deal. Then at home, I can read or talk to my kid, while he’s in the womb. I’ll be sure to take my parental vitamins, stay away from all junk food like no more soda for me, and keep my stress levels low. Also do those pregnant exercises.
For some strange reason, I can only see myself being prone to giving birth to boys. I think that I would do better with girls, but I can’t picture it. It’s as if giving birth to a girl feels strange like this child can’t be mine. I would still love her, don’t get me wrong.
I wonder what my sons would be like? What they’ll look like? What their personalities would be like? How would they handle the fact that their births are a little different from those traditional births? Deal with the fact that they’ll never have a father? Also, I was planning to change Father’s Day into Children’s Day, since it’s going to be a useless holiday until the kids grow up and want to change back for themselves. On Children’s Day, I buy the kids a single toy, nothing to expense since it’s not Christmas, and then we all go out to eat. It’ll be our family tradition. I’ll read my books on how to raise sons without fathers, so they don’t grow up into criminals. If I have a daughter, make sure she doesn’t get sexually active. I’ll try to find male role models for my boys. At school, I can request a male teacher for them for example.
I worry about my boys becoming outcasts like me, but I can give some tips that I’ve learned. Tell them that they don’t owe the world anything. I could teach them to be little MGTOWs. How would they feel about a woman being the head of the household? How does a woman discipline her boys? When I do pick a donor, I’ll make sure that it’s one that agrees to meet the kids when they turn 18. Won’t be surprise if my kids have any half-siblings.
Fun fact: Most choice moms never get married, but they still feel happy about raising a family on their own.
I just need to find a way to have an income of 40,000 dollars to rise my dream family. Be open minded about this, but overall don’t worry I doubt this will happen. I know the whole wide world doesn’t want me to have kids, let alone exist.
Today I saw my psychiatrist. Eventually I told him what happened (well, nearly happened) on Saturday. He too, like my psychologist, immediately wanted to admit me. To his credit, he didn’t force me but respected my choice to not go back into hospital. He said that the situation was just short of where he would have been both legally obliged and able to force me into hospital, as in – if I had been in immediate danger.
He made it very clear that he would have much preferred if I went. But thanks to the trust we’ve built up over the years (he’s been treating me for 7 1/2 years now), he trusted me enough leave the practice. He openly said that he was taking a huge personal risk, because ultimately if I kill myself soon after seeing him, he will be held responsible. I’m really grateful that I have a doctor who trusts me like that.
I’m ok-ish for now. He increased the dose of one of my medications, and changed one antidepressant over to another. He normally does not like to change more than one thing at a time, but he realised that right now is not the time to experiment and take it slowly, but that I need help RIGHT NOW. He also reassured me that there are still a few more options out there.
I seem to have developed a tolerance to the Dexamphetamine, which was what really saved me last time, but I haven’t reached the maximum dose, so for the moment increasing the dose is at least possible (and that’s what he’s done). If that keeps happening, there are other stimulant medications that work in a similar way, and might help instead. And if that all fails, there is TMS (although that will require hospitalisation because it’s otherwise too expensive) and DMS, which involves implanting an electrode into the brain to stimulate a particular spot in the brain, and is really a treatment of absolute last resort, and pretty radical, as it involves major surgery.
He also organised an outreach nurse from the hospital where I’ve been an inpatient before, to visit me at home. I didn’t even know that that was an option until now, so that’s a good thing. I am grateful for all the options that are available to me, knowing fully well that I am very privileged. In Australia, while there are basic mental health services available in the public health system, the number of hospital beds and other resources in the public sector don’t even remotely match the requirements. I have private health insurance (which I will always keep up even if it is to the expense of everything else that’s not absolute essential to bare survival), and that has given me access to this really good private psychiatric hospital where I’ve spent far too much time in the last few years, and it will also now pay for that outreach nurse. My estimate is that my health insurance has already paid at least half a million Australian dollars towards my mental health care over the last 7 1/2 years, since my first admission. I am very lucky that I have those options. In Australia, if you have continuous cover (never had a break in having insurance), they cannot by law increase your premium or exclude you from cover for anything that was previously covered, no matter how much you have claimed. Again, I am very lucky that this is how it is in my country. I know that, especially in America, the situation is very different for many people.
Sooooo, I did believe my psychiatrist, that there are still a few options out there, and I haven’t reached the end of the road. Given that, it was a good thing that I didn’t go through with it on Saturday.
But, I still don’t feel any better. I am still in a world of pain. I still long for death. I still am unbearably sad. However, tomorrow morning I will start on my new medication regime, and I just pray to God that it will make a difference. I have follow up appointments with both my psychologist and psychiatrist next week. They both went out of their way to fit me in even though they are usually booked out for weeks or even months in advance. I really am so lucky to have that level of professional support.
And last, not least, thanks to those of you who supported me over the last few days. It has made a difference. My best wishes to all of you!