It took me long enough to seek help but it’s taking forever to actually get any! I feel like I’ll end it before I get on top of that ‘waiting list.’ So frustrating. I’m done. Only getting help because I love my family but I really can’t wait this long. I’m so tired. Going back to that bottle of whiskey. Atleast it’s of some comfort. Helps me ‘keep up appearances.’
Just looking for some place to vent. If you’re reading this, I’m already a happier sad person and humbled by your sympathetic presence.
In my own case, thinking about death has more to do with very specific problems i have. With my health, to be exact. Still, feeling the blues takes you to the place where you cannot ignore your very human attempts to put everything into perspective, and to look for any meaning in seemingly unrelated circumstances in your life. And that’s why me posting this doesn’t mean that I’ve completely lost it. I think.
So, the health related “problem’ I’m talking about today is not even a problem. It’s a possible solution. But if you’ll read this for just a couple more seconds, you’ll know why this solution is also a Mockery nr.2.
The solution-problem is alcohol. The next day after a heavy drinking session, my depression lifts. I feel normal. I loose my inattentiveness, my anxiety, I stop thinking about dying and forget about you guys. My mind is considerably less blank. Simply put, I start to think and to feel more. I think, in my case, it works as an antibiotic, if we’d use this term loosely. And it’s not an attempt to justify drinking. I know this for some time now, and I tried everything in my power to find another solution. I’m spending half of my laughable salary on pointless health supplements. And the only thing that really helps is a poison. Not only that. It’s the same poison to which some of my family members are slaves to.
You’ll say that this is the wrong place to talk about this stuff, but I don’t seek a medical advice here. I just want to share with you what was my personal middle finger from our mother nature. The latest one I found out about, at least.
A week ago, I googled “prominent alcoholics”, “functional drinkers” and such. I found some. But you guys are the ones I respect and love. I believe that you, people who suffer and are sad and lonely, are the ones who understand life-stuff. I think that the circumstances that made you find this place makes you wise. Maybe I just want for someone to justify my actions, even if they’ll change my already sad life for good. Maybe I just want for someone to tell me that I’m such and arse for even saying this stuff. That it’s like a 16 yr old complaining about the birthday cake which is not a Ferrari. It’s just a F****** Acura.
How should I proceed, friends? You’ll decide for me. That’s my decision. I also feel lonely, so even you reading this makes me feel some.
I love you, friends. Whatever you decide in your own lives, I’ll love you always. You play with the cards life dealt you. And considering that, you’re doing great. You are my heroes.
It’s my first post there, so hello, I guess?
I need help with my boyfriend. More precisely, breaking up with him.
We’ve been together for almost 3 years if I recall correctly. It’s a long distance relationship.
There are few reasons why I don’t feel like dating him any longer;
- We’re completely different. Different things make us laugh, we think differently, we have different problems. He’s a massive pessimist, hates himself and the way he looks (had (has?) bulimia), talks about his problems a lot, is very complicated, hangs out with people, loves cuddling, drinking, smoking and drugs (never did any serious ones, only some meds and pot, I forced him to stop), he’s awfully sensitive, cuts himself, and he doesn’t really care about my problems or my mood (he doesn’t realize that I guess…). I used to be a bit like that before I started taking my meds but now… I’m more of a optimist/realist, I like the way I look (except my body, I’m ftm transsexual but i try not to think about it), I’m a simple minded and logical person, I don’t have friends and usually just sit in my room drawing all day, I don’t like talking about my feelings and dislike listening about others too much (sometimes it’s alright but hearing about him hating himself and his life everyday is just plain annoying), I don’t drink, hate smoking and drugs, I’m really not sensitive, and I don’t self harm anymore (used to a lot). I have to “listen” to his pessimist babble all day. He keeps saying that there’s no future for him, that his life sucks etc. Annoying.
- I don’t find him attractive. He’s transsexual as well and his female body grosses me out. Probably due to my own gender dysphoria. Because of this, I don’t want to engage in any sexual activities with him (I already did and I hated it. He doesn’t mind my body but I do. I still need to talk with him about it).
- He’s annoying. Talking to him annoys me. He’s irresponsible, doesn’t listen to me and prefers to get wasted instead of doing something to get better. Life’s hard on him, sure. His family is retarded and he can’t rely on them. They don’t believe that something such as mental illness could touch their child, they think he’s just lazy. He’s turning 18 in January and then I’ll make him seek medical help on his own.
I need help because I don’t know what to do. I’m not even sure if i want to break up with him but everything seems to be heading that way. The thing is, if I do that, he’ll just kill himself. He said many times already that if it wasn’t me, he’d become a massive drug and alcohol addict and then kill himself, besides, he has few suicide attempts behind him. He didn’t say that to threaten me, he just loves me. He keeps telling me that and I know it.
He’s the only one I have and yet, I’m sick of him.
another weekend, another day left behind….
time to numb shit out…. cheers……
I have been passively suicidal all my life. I know, some say there is no way, but I remember wanting to die at 7. I was not abused overly much. My dad a little to harsh with corporal punishment. My mom never said I was stupid, but she always gave me a look or used a tone that said I was stupid. I guess she had no patience. idk. I was always depressed. Borderline personality I was told once, but never stuck with therapy. I have had more jobs and sexual encounters than I can remember. I just can’t stick with anything. Then get all excited about changing my life and pick the wrong people and things. Alcohol and drug abuse since 16. I am 38 now. I have a wonderful husband and beautiful daughter, she is 13, and I still want to die. I have been actively suicidal a few times. Tried once. Took 38 sleeping pills, but I guess I kinda knew someone would find me. I have this day dream where I drive to the ocean and swim out and just keep swimming, but I would never leave my daughter and husband. It would crush them. I have neuropathy and fibromyalgia. Possibly lupus. The last two weeks my chest has been sore, especially when I wake up. I get light headed and kind of nauseous when I stand. Now today, I have tingling and a lightness in my extremities, too, when I stand. Weak feeling. I am on a lot of meds. Maybe side effects. I am fighting to keep from going to ER. This could be my chance…..my chance to die.
I’m not doing it now. But I always have a plan. When there’s no one left to give up on me but myself, I’m gong to do it.
I actually cried tonight, thinking about what happened over these past three days. Did a lot of psychoanalysis on myself. As you all know, Thursday night I started drinking cooers light. It’s the only alcohol my aunt will allow me to have. The problem is, I sober up to fast. The bigger problem is that I feel like a monster when I’m sober but when I’m drunk all my worries go away and I can be myself (in a way). I get scared of sobering up because I know that once I do, my problems will come back.
That night, I said screw it and decided to head towards the railroad tracks in the direction of my dads house. I couldn’t have done that sober because Id have too much anxiety. I had my ex on the cell phone the entire time. We are still very much in love. As I walked my first intentions was to get myself ran over by a train. As I think about it now, I think subconsciously I wouldn’t have went though that because I’m smart enough to know how painful a suicide like that could be. At the same time, my fear levels were so low that I wasn’t scared of getting mugged, bit by a dog, pulled over by the cops or anything.
After about an hour and 20 mins, including many falls and stopping to smoke on the railroad tracks while staring at the stars, I finally reached my dads house. I remember my girl saying it was 1:30. My fad let me in and we talked……then he gave me a bundle of joy. A thing of Vodka. It’s been so long since I had some strong stuff. I continued to get drunk with him. The next day we started again, than smoked a lot of weed. I was feeling good.
Problem is, it all comes crashing down. The day after that I woke up even more depressed than I was before. I know alcohol release endorphins but I’m also knowledgable about how it destorys your synapses and dopamine receptors. So I’m stick between my cravings and my mental knowledge of how much it hurts in the long run. Sometimes it seems worth it to drink myself into a happy stupor and pay for it the next day. I don’t get the headaches and stomach aches that most people do from it, but I can still feel depression worsen temporarily when I drink heavily. I just wish I can enjoy something that won’t kill me.
My husband and i were together 3 years before we decided to have a baby. He started cheating on me when I was 5 months pregnant. He left the week of Thanksgiving. Our baby was born early march. Ive tried so hard for my baby boy to make things work with his daddy. I feel like ive failed my son. I had made plans. Wrote a letter to my son. Set a date. Our anniversary…vicodin and alcohol. Then i realized im all my baby has. He doesn’t have his daddy he needs his mommy…but now were talking divorce…hes decided he wants to be in his life. I dont want to share. I didn’t do anything and i didn’t want this. I cant stop thinking about him someday having a step mommy. Hes too young to understand right now. Im not strong enough to deal with this. I cant compete with another woman for my son’s love. We could come to an agreement and we wouldn’t have to go through court and it would save alot of money. I feel horrible about it but ive got to fight to keep him away from my son. If i lose im done. Im going through with the plan while hes still too young to understand. Hes all ive got..
Just about the only thing that’s always there when I need it. Alcohol. Ugh just fuck.
Like it or not we are all 1 day closer to the end:-) I keep a loaded firearm close at all times but too much of a ***** to turn it on myself. Something will happen soon (I hope) Alcohol is my friend, my only true friend!!!
Today I’m sharing with you guys what I did to end my life, maybe it will help you to know what won’t work for a suicide plan.
My first attempts wereÂ some knows classic stuf, cutting, Overdosing painkillers, Injecting some poisonous liquids, drowning etc …
My last attempt was finishing a full bottle of scotch whisky and a lot of amisulpride pills, I was taken to hospital and all I got is 4 days of pain over all my body.
For now I’m searching for 2 helium tanks, I see a lot of poeple fail at suicide by helium because of exhaling Co2, but after all I should give a try.
And if I fail i will finish it the tradition way by cutting my Femoral artery using a scalpel … sounds painful by it’s worth it
Thanks for reading
After the best summer of my whole life I find myself back here for the first time in a couple of years. Kind of the only place I know to turn to when I really really really need people that understand to lend an ear…
Depressed lately… I just can’t be proud of myself anymore. I used to do really well at uni and now I’m in my final year I feel all the passion and spark I had for my major and my future has been snuffed out by the brutal machine they call the system. It just gets me down… I can study and advance by myself and I’m so bright and full of passion when it’s on my own time and my own terms… after 3+ years in the system I’ve been ground to a stump of apathy and alcoholism. I can’t think of anything worse. I feel trapped and just want to graduate and get on with the next phase of my life… and I just care less and less to the point of failing things which has now delayed my graduation. Dunno If I can even finish… scary thing is I used to drink once every two weeks with friends for fun… now I drink 2 ~ 3 times a week by myself to numb the stress. I thought it’s just an isolated thing but now it continues week after week and I finally realized I’m depressed and have become a borderline alcoholic… fuck. *sigh*…
Has anyone had the problem of turning to alcohol to escape and wound up in a scary/bad spot because of it? Kinda need some advice…
I’ve always been the strong one. The one who held others up when they couldn’t take it. I never wanted to burden others with my problems, so I tend to fake a smile and say I’m okay. I hate to be viewed as weak. It started when I was little — I was born to teenage parents who had a taste for methanphetamines. They did try to get clean when I was born, as well as three years later when my little brother came into the world. But their lifestyle caused me to take care of myself at an early age. A funny story I’ve been told about myself: when I was around 2, my mom woke up and couldn’t find me in my usual place in front of the TV, watching Lion King. I was at the stove, with a small frying pan filled with two cracked eggs (including shells), salt, pepper, and toy spatula in hand. I learned to read when I was 3 and had read the first Harry Potter book by the time I was 5. My parents divorced when I was about 4, and neither of them dealt with it too well. My mom, brother and I went to live with my grandparents 1 1/2 hours away from my dad. A few years later my mom married my stepdad, and shortly after my dad met my stepmom. Things were good for a while. We had a house, clothes, food. Then in 2008, when I was in 4th grade, the recession hit us. We had to move and both my parents lost their jobs. Soon we had no money and got on state assistance. We bounced from house to house, never staying in one place, at times homeless. My mother and stepfather went back to drugs. At the time I didn’t realize, but I have very distinct memories of walking into my parents’ room and seeing them hunched over a mirror with white lines crossing the length. I only realized what I saw a couple years ago, and it’s hard to forgive my parents for that. While they were sitting in their rooms doing illegal drugs, I, the oldest of my now 4 siblings, was keeping them fed and dressed. I was in 6th grade taking on the role of a mother. I didn’t have any friends and my grades were dropping, as was my self esteem. I stayed inside reading and taking care of my siblings, which in the next three years was increased by one when my now almost 2 year old brother was born. All those years, I continued to hide away and not talk to anyone. With all my moving around and the good friends I’d lost through it, I put up walls to ensure it would never happen again. I began to dress meticulously, planning my thrift store outfits days in advance and waking up at ungodly hours to curl my hair just so and apply my makeup perfectly. I walked through the halls with my nose in the air, trying to fake the confidence I didn’t have. I wanted the kids at school who had friends to know that I didn’t need them. I was so lonely. In 8th grade we moved for the 12th time, but this time we didn’t leave. I made one friend, cautiously, then another. By the end of 9th grade I had a good little group and a best friend. That year was one of the best and the worst. I finally felt accepted at school. But at home… my mom had taken up sleeping. All. The. Time. My brother and I would try to coax her out of her bed and she’d promise to wake up if we cleaned the house. If we stopped fighting. If we let her sleep for one more hour. And with all this, she still wouldn’t get out of bed. I made sure the house was clean and the kids were happy. I maintained a 3.96 GPA. All for her, to get my own mother to wake up and love us. But it wouldn’t work; nothing would. On my 15th birthday she woke up long enough to take me to buy a $30 outfit, and the rest of the time she slept. I was crying myself to sleep, wondering what I’d done wrong to make her not want to leave her room. My dad lived just 20 minutes away with his wife and my other brothers and sister, but my mom kept my brother and I from him as much as she could. Through this, the only thing keeping a smile on my face was One Direction, whom I’d found at the end of 2012. They helped me more than anyone will ever know. Near the end of the school year we got evicted and moved to another house across town, a house that soon became more like a dump. The dishes never seemed to stay done, the floors were sticky, there was the same gargantuan pile of laundry sitting on the carpet and sofas for months, it smelled like something had died… and still my mother and stepfather expected their kids, ages 1-15, to keep it all clean with no help from them. Whatsoever. But by the time we moved in, I was tired. Of everything. I had no motivation and no energy and I just gave up.
Then came summer. I was excited. I had friends and no school. I could actually get out of my disgusting house. Instead of what I’d envisioned, however, my parents took up drinking. Vodka. Every night. All day they’d sleep, and when they woke up at 7 pm they drank. The house got worse and my parents’ drinking got so out of hand that soon they were buying $12 alcohol rather than milk and bread. We had nothing to eat. Neither of my parents would buy food; they would claim to have no money, only to be caught smuggling a paper bag from the State Liquor Store. I began to search the house for change so I could ride my bike to the closest store to buy essentials. Eventually we ran out of even that, and I resorted to stealing. At first it was for everyone. Food. But not long after I started stealing things for myself. Frivolous things like Cosmo magazine, candy, makeup. It gave me a thrill and, thanks to my innocent countenance, no one suspected a thing. It became a regular thing, every other day. Tenth grade had started and I always had candy to share. But my parents were still drinking and my depression grew deeper and deeper. I was thinking of suicide again. In September I wrote my note and prepared myself. I had it all planned out: I would come home on a B Day. Get a glass of the chocolate milk we got from the church, along with a pill cocktail that I would carefully research to make sure it’d work. Turn on a playlist of my favorite songs and put my earbuds in. Read Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows until I got sleepy from the pills. Never wake up. The only thing stopping me — One Direction yet again. I kept thinking: I can’t miss Niall’s birthday. The album release. Louis’ birthday. Zayn. Harry turning 20! WWA tour. My 16th birthday. And so on. Music was all I had to hold on to. I started listening to 5 Seconds of Summer, and soon they were another reason to stay alive. November came. That was the turning point. One night some of my stepdad’s co-workers came over and they all got piss drunk. My own mother started to try to convince and pressure me to drink. I was scared. That night they yelled at me because I was on my mom’s phone. I cut myself for the first time, and I regret it so much. The next day was Sunday, and I stayed in my room. I wouldn’t talk to anyone. The next day I didn’t go to school — I did that often, as my mom was always asleep and never noticed. While I was laying in my bed, I started to cry. I realized that I needed to get myself together. So I wrote a note, packed a bag, found some change, and walked to the store where I used the payphone to call my dad. He picked me up and I told him everything. I’ve been living with him since then. Wrong moved to where I was going to school because they knew I didn’t want to lose my friends. My mom got evicted… again. She went to live with my grandpa, along with my siblings and my stepdad. They moved again recently, to a house about 5 minutes from mine. She still sleeps and she doesn’t call. I still cut. I have really bad days and it was really hard to get my grades up, since the first two terms I only passed two classes. I’ll have to do a lot of credit recovery to graduate high school, but this last term I finished out with a B- average. Every day is a struggle to get up and do what I need to, but I’m getting better. I can finally see the light that once seemed so far away.
Hi Everyone, I feel like this is becoming my personal blog space where I can talk about my miserable existance.
So it is decided then. Â I will be attending the Msc in Accounting and Finance at Edinurgh.
I will be going there on friday. If I fail the course I guess an easy way out is just ending it all.
Anyways time to take my anti depressant and wash it down with some alcohol so I can dose away. No more whiskey but I do have some wine.
So today I did nothing. I had a talk with my bossy sister who said I had to do this masters. Even though I wanted to do one which would give me 9 exemptions from the ACCA qualification. Anyways I guess I have no say in the matter. I am a puppet.
Other then that nothing happend. I was on the roof today. Had a stroll. Just to get a feel for things. I need to start going to the gym again. Perhaps that will make me happier.
I do not look forward to starting this degree where I will have to study so much….
I posted for the first time in this forum yesterday.
Today I almost made a decision to go to university of edinburgh for my masters, but then I changed my mind again. I spoke to my dad he said he does not want to pay for my masters anymore as I cant make up my mind and I am only doing it to avoid working.
Anyways Just took my anti depressant. Going to drink some alcohol and continue writing my good bye notes. I think I am getting most of the things down. Is it weird to proof read your s note?
Anyways I did absolutely nothing today. As usual…
I hope you all had a good day.
It’s taken me my whole life to realise that have never been “happy.” I was never happy as a child, tween, and now into my teenage years, my sad feelings have developed into anxiety, anorexia, self harm, and suicidal thoughts. I turned to drug use and alcohol. I still smoke and drink a lot. I have these sleeping pills and sometimes I just hold them and think about how easy it would be to just go. I am disgusted by my body and spirit. I think sometimes, it’s not worth living if I can’t even love myself. I have been trying to like my body for years, but I just can’t do it. I started cutting seriously a few days ago and it’s like the only thing that makes me feel better when I’m sober… except for One Direction. I’m not being ironic, although it sure sounds like it. Being in the One Direction fandom has brought me closer to so many people even though we are miles apart. Lately though, my thoughts of suicide have been increasing and strangely enough, I don’t want to get better. I have known only sadness for so much of my life, that if it goes, I don’t think that there will be anything interesting anymore. Honestly, being depressed is just so normal and almost comforting now that I just want it like this but I also don’t want to have my body.
I’ve thought about taking my life so many times. I know some say it’s the cowards way out and that someone always has it worse than me – Truth is, I’m just so fed up. I’m exhausted. It’s like things are so bad I just don’t even feel like getting out of bed. I have great friends but I just have so many emotional issues that even hanging out with them seems like a chore.
I was sexually molested and abused continuously when I was young. I didn’t even know to tell or what to do. My mom found out because there was blood in my underwear. And because of that I have problems with people touching me or getting close to me.
I always had problems making friends in school. They called me ugly, gay and ******. When I was in 7th grade some kids broke into my house through our sliding door and messed up the house and my stepdad beat me up. He punched me in my face and in my stomach and back and other places while cursing me out. He then called the police and they arrested him and took me to the another police car. I had to sit at the police station until my mom got home from work. I was laughing stock of the school. A CPS agent came and took pictures of my bruises. It was embarrassing. I moved away for a year and then came back home and soon after my stepdad accused my mom and I of having sex. He claimed he actually saw us. That really hurt me and I became much more withdrawn and I turned to alcohol to ease my pain. One time my mom got mad and turned over all the furniture, broke the TV, some plates and the christmas tree leaving broken ornaments and glass on the floor for a week. One day my stepdad threatened to get his gun and kill us and said he had a dream he called me over to visit, shot me, then shot my mom then shot himself. This went on for years until I finally moved out but everytime I’d go home to visit my mom he’d say the same thing. I was verry worried for my mom all the time. Then next thing I know my family is accusing me of sleeping with my cousin. I wrecked my car and she let me use hers since we worked at the same job and my family’s first impression is I’m sleeping with her. At the time I was still a virgin and hadn’t been with anyone ever unless you count the molesting. I’m just so exhausted and it’s no matter what I do, the people I love continue to hurt me. My dad never made an attempt to see me, contact me, visit me or anything. The last time I talked to him was because he called to speak with my mom about cutting off the child support. Then he up and died and I never got a chance to meet him. On top of all of that, I have gynecomastia thats very painful. A doctor confirmed I have to get the surgery or do hormones because it’s breast tissue. I can’t exercise it away. Unfortunately, even though I told the insurance company and my doctor confirmed that not only is physical but also emotionally painful, they still wouldn’t cover the surgery so I just have to live with my chest hurting and being chaffed, raw and red unless I can come up with $6500. I just can’t deal with it all.Â I think about just ending it all because those scars are there and they hurt 🙁 I just don’t know what to do. Somedays im ok, then other days im down, but then other days I’m ready to crash my car into a tree or OD on pills. I just want to stop hurting. That’s all. I don’t like people to touch me, I don’t like others to touch me. It’s messing up my personal life. I can’t date anyone bc i get into moods where I don’t want to talk or be around anyone. I just want to be normal. :”'(
On the lighter note of my life, I think I may have found some sort of purpose, or at least something to get my mind off my problems. It fills my time up.
I’ve been writing for a while now, and I think I’m pretty good at it. I’ve posted some stories on Wattpad, and while they’re not very popular, they’re getting there. I try to write kind of up beat stories, but most just end up sad. It’s great therapy in my opinion. Instead of focusing on how much my life sucks, or how much I need a drug, I’m writing.
So far, after a slip up last week, I am three days clean. That means no drugs, no alcohol, and no cutting. It may not seem like a lot, but it’s a lot of progress for me. I’ve not smoked for almost a month either. Yay 🙂
So that’s all the good news. Good luck, loves. You’ll need it in this world.
Also, on a semi happy note, I finished the two seasons of Sherlock. To be honest, I cried at the end of Reichenbach Fall. I’ve not yet ventured into the deep dark depths of the fandom world, but I’m getting there.
I have been lost for such a long time.Â I sometimes think it started the day my mother died but that isn’t it.Â Â Or the day I asked for helpÂ the first time I tried to kill myself, and the military discharged me instead.Â I really don’t know where I went wrong.Â It seems when I ask for help, or try to talk about it, people either don’t want to listen or don’t believe me.Â I mean really, how can someone my age be going through this.Â I am the one who has these feelings and I struggle to believe it myself.
I left my life aÂ 5 years ago.Â Â Just packed what I could carry and left.Â I had enough money to get me into a hotel for a few days but that was it.Â Â I ran away.Â Â I ran for my life.Â I drove as far as I could before I got to tired and wound up in Atlanta.Â I thought I would be safe there, it is a big city and nobody knew me there.Â I took a job as a waiter and foundÂ somebody renting a room out.Â Everything was ok for a couple months.Â I guess that was my mistake.Â I dropped my guard and then it all came crashing down again.Â I was stopped atÂ a random checkpoint for whateverÂ reason and because I hadÂ no insurance, they arrested me.Â Â I was released with a hefty fine, but now I was in the system in Atlanta.Â Now with no car and no means to get away this time, I was panicked.Â I pulled together as much money as I could quickly and placed an ad looking for a place to stay in another city.Â I left again.Â I have had to move three more times and thought I was finally somewhere safe but now I am screwed.Â I am renting a room and was working in a bar but where I live now, you need a license to serve alcohol and I can’t get a new one.Â Â M license expired a long time ago and getting a new one will let my ex know where I am.Â I have tried to find work doing odd jobs for cash but have had no luck.Â I have just enough money to either run again with no idea where to go, or to stay for a couple more months.
It seems that I really have no choice in what to do.Â I set up a false email to contact my family, but my ex has been in touch with them this whole time.Â I really have nowhere to turn.Â Every day I fight the urge to just give in and go back knowing what will happen.Â If for no other reason than to get it over with.
I am lost, I just don’t have it in me anymore to fight.Â I have a supply of a blood thinner that everything I read about it tell me that overdosing on it will cause me to bleed internally and die.Â It seems like a painless death.Â Maybe after I take the pills, I will be happy again.Â Safer, happier, at peace.Â I know it seems dramatic and final, but what doÂ I have to live for.Â I don’t have it in me to run again with no hope of being safe.
I think it is time for me to be done.Â I have decided that I will pay for another month to stay where I am and that will be that.Â Looking at that statement and realizing that this will be done in a month, actually makes me feel peace.
Hi i don’t know how to start.I just haveÂ a few questionsÂ and i hope to get some answers.First i want to say that my English is bad ,so i hope to understand me wellÂ andÂ be able to help me somehow.Ok.I want to die i guess everyone here want that.I read peaceful pill book and i choose the exit bag and pills method.I have 50 pills phenobarbital-100mgÂ and i wonder is it a good medicamentÂ for this method?It is for epilepsy and it’s from barbiturate class.I wonder can iÂ fall asleep from these pills and don’t wake up and should drink all of them?I am afraid of ripping the bag off of my head while I am sleeping.Can i do something for that?I am also wondering can i make it without the bag,i mean i know that phenobarbital can be very lethal with alcohol,but iÂ just don’t know are the pills enough.Please if you know answer me.Please!Don’t tell me “don’t do it’ because if i decide i will!So there is no point.I just don’t want to be a fail attemptÂ or worse toÂ be damage after that.Thank you in advance.