well, unfortunately, not a single soul truly cares about me. i need to understand that. that the only one who cares about me, is me.
“If I drive fast enough…the impact will make it quick.” “If I could just drink a little more, I’ll fall right to sleep…” ” If I could just cut a little deeper…” These thoughts used to scare the hell me…but now, they just hang around in my head, like a lingering headache, that you just can’t seem to get rid off. Death now, doesn’t scare me. I don’t care if there’s ‘another life’ after this one or if I just end up as plant food. I just don’t care anymore. I haven’t cared for a very very long time.
…I don’t care if deep inside, I rot away and just completely die inside. I don’t care if I, alone, have to carry this burden for the rest of my life… I will never allow myself to end it all. I just can’t. The thoughts of my parents and siblings, suffering in the aftermath…possibly questioning themselves if they were the reason for what I did…If what I do, changes my sweet little baby sister…
Those are the thoughts that scare the hell out of me…
I’ve become so depressed that I started cutting my wrist, not long ago. I wear long sleeves and sweat shirts to hide the scars. But the other day it was warm out so i wore a short sleeve shirt and brought a jacket to hide the scars if I needed to. It turns out that I didn’t need the jacket because everyone who must have seen my cuts didn’t give a fuck about it. They would look at my wrist then at my face and turn around and act like nothing happened. Um… hello you know that what you just saw isn’t something you always see, don’t you even wonder what made me do that to myself. Not even the adults give a fuck about it. They are just as bad as my classmates. No one at my school knows what a depressed person looks like. I don’t want help from anybody, I’m just saying that if people really did care they would have told someone about it. Someone would have actually tried to help me. People don’t give a fuck about me so what’s the point of being here. I’m just an extra, I don’t belong anywhere. I’m never enough for anyone. I never fit in anywhere, I’m the person that can easily be replaced by anyone, because I’m not big deal to anyone. They have given up on me.
There’s parts in this where I forgot to think before I spoke. It happens. I corrected myself though.
Family & Friends EffectsGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NoteStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
I am a 14 year old teenager, depressed and suicidal. I know this may sound stupid but does anyone know any pills that will make me pass out if I overdose? I am not exactly trying to kill myself, just a way of revealing my pain to my parent without having to actually talk to them, but let’s just say I wouldn’t care if I died overdosing.
I know I will receive lots of “don’t do this” “you don’t deserve life” and “you’re worth it” but I don’t believe any of that. I hate my life and myself so much, I don’t think anything or anyone can change this. So please, spare me the sweet comments about how everything will get better and I should stay strong because I can’t, I am a weak person who cannot handle anything anymore.
just a short poem I found. I can’t imagine how heart broken and sad the author must have been.
WHEN I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.
I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough;
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.
I don’t know if anybody cares, but clearly by the poetry I’ve written I have issues. Nobody cared to comment, so I guess I’m not cared about at all. I have been told to go die in a hole my sister, my dad has told me that EVERYTHING is my fault, and we won’t even get started on my mom. My family is not abusive in anyway. Just verbally when they’re mad. I have ADD and insomnia. I’m a good kid. I don’t get in trouble. I love God. But for some reason, every time I close my eyes I see the evil that I have done. And regret. I hate myself. I have tried to kill myself by overdose. IT WON’T WORK. I took like 20 ibuprofen, 20 aspirin,3 sleeping pills, and so on. Not all at the same time. I’ve cut myself. Not deep just the edge. I masturbate when I’m stressed or pissed. I don’t know what to do. I mean, I could literally walk in the garage and put a pistol to my head, but I don’t want to scare my parent’s like that. I think I used to play kissing games with my sister when we were little. I saw my dad’s disgusting porno mag when I was 9. I hate myself. HELP! I’ll give more info if I get comments.
Theres a girl … she doesnt know how to handle things… everythings spirling out of control… sometimes she can convince herself that shes not really alive… maybe shes in a nightmare.. and she just cant wake up..?
You’d never guess her secretÂ if you knew here.. she hides it so well… she seems so happy… do you want to know her secret..? She cuts herself. She doesnt know why… and she doesnt understand why she resolved to it.. but one thing she knows is SHE CANT STOP.. but why ..?
When she feels out of control.. overwelmed with emotion.. cutting helps helps her calm down and be able to think… but at the same time .. when she feels so numb.. empty.. cutting helps her feel alive… even if only for a moment… she didnt have an easy childhood.. there was always aruging.. giving.. never recieving and she never felt good enough.. important.. enough… who would care if she cut..? Everyones better off without me.. thats what she told herself day after day.. she was everything she despised.. sometimes she would sit in her room crying.. a razor blade in her hand.. at the ready.. hearing laughter from down stairs she never felt more ALONE.. and yet no one noticed … she just wanted a hug.. someone to lover her.. and tell her everythings okay.. and that they cared.. so why didnt they…? Sometimes she thought about dieing just taking a load of pills.. and ending everything.. whou would care after all.. right.
She was only 11.. a lonely and misunderstood girl by the time she was 13.. her body was covered in scars and cuts she just wanted to be LOVED .. was that to much to ask?? She always tried to be everyones idea of perfect.. she complety lost who she was.. she liedÂ to her friends and faimaly just so she wouldnt have to see the tears of dissapointment in their eyes.. she wanted someone to understand … to care…. but it didnt happen.
Who knows if anyone ever cared for her?
Who knows if she can ever escape from cutting?
One day you might relise you’ve known her all along the bubbly girl who tells you her cat scratched her.. could be hiding it all under a smile..
She wants someone.. needs someone..
Theres a girl
Do you want to know her secret? she cuts herself so help her.. thats all she wants.. NEEDS can you guess who she is?
.. shes me..
how did u guys make it through ur depression or thoughts of suiside because i just dont wat to do and i dont realy have anyone to go to so im hoping this website will help me because i am havin a realy hard time with this please i dont have any where else to turn please my mom adopted mom doensnt care about me at all so this is all i have
I walked outside today and realized it was warm enough to not need a jacket. As the sun shone down on me I fought back tears, the change of season would mark the one year anniversary of my downfall. It would remind me of how long it has been and how deep I have gotten myself into this. I never knew it would go on for a year, I thought everything would be fine by now. One year ago if you were to have looked me in the eye and explained how I would starve myself, then force myself to vomit every single day, multiple times a day, then drag a scissor blade over my skin and leave a scar I would regret forever, not once, but three times, I would have simply looked at you and laughed. That wasnâ€™t me, I had everything under control. I wouldnâ€™t have believed that multiple students told the counselor on me at school, or that I lied to the counselor and enjoyed every moment of it, I wouldnâ€™t have been able to imagine that I would end up in counseling, dreading every moment of it. Nothing could have prepared me for the nights I have spent curled in a ball wishing to die, but knowing that I have to hold on for everyone who loves me. Sobbing so violently that nothing can calm me down, because I realize that I am not afraid of dying. I couldnâ€™t have guessed that food would become my enemy, and I would push my body to its limits. I would lose friends and lose focus at school. I would deny my stomach of food for so long, that when I finally caved, my stomach no longer knew what to do with it. I would fight everyone, for as long as I could, and trust no one. I would cry every time I was hugged, because knowing someone cared was the best feeling in the world. In one year, everything can change. Mentally Iâ€™ve lost myself. My therapist thinks I need to rebuild relationships with my parents, but no one understands that I donâ€™t want that. I donâ€™t want their love now, because itâ€™s too late. They deserve my silence. I scare myself; I know I have so much to live for. I have amazing friends, also teachers that make sure I remember how strong I am, I have guys that flirt with me, I play sports, I have been on the honor roll all throughout school. I donâ€™t talk back to my parents and people love my personality. I was a finalist in the local pageant in my city and I volunteer all the time. If you looked at me I would appear so put together, so perfect. Yet my smile hides the darkest things, when I am alone this shows. When I cry myself to sleep, when the only comforting thing to think about to get me to sleep is thinking about what it would be like to die, itâ€™s scary. Because I want to live, I want to overcome. I canâ€™t leave everyone who needs me. It makes me angry when people call me â€œsickâ€ because I do not feel sick. I donâ€™t want to admit it, but maybe I am. Right now I am trying so hard. Trying to get over this and move on. Iâ€™m only 16 years old, smart and innocent. Smiling and laughing gets me through, I know I can do this. I know I can do this. Itâ€™s just about staying strong and opening up. Iâ€™m just trying to convince myself I will be okay.
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Everything hurts. The secrets I can’t tell anyone, and no one cares at all. Who do I turn to? How do I say the words to someone, someone I trust, that is going to make them understand? Who would I tell? WhoÂ can I trust? How do I get even one minute with them only three days before school is out? I’m going to die this summer. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t stand my life anymore, my mind… I have secrets that are killing me, literally. I’m going to die because I can’t take knowing the things I know. And even if I did summon the courage to tell someone, I’ll just hate that someone knows something about me like that who won’t be around forever. What do I do? And why can’t I find any answers? This hurts. The emotional pain is merging with the physical side of me, and I can’t stand it anymore. What other option is there for relief other than death? I have to die. I just hope suicide really won’t send me to hell.
So, what happenedâ€¦ Thursday night, I downed a bottle of medicine, because someone three fries short of a happy meal wrote on a website that â€œliquid is absorbed faster than pills.â€ So I thoughtâ€¦ I die faster, and I fall asleep before I suffer. So much for that ideaâ€¦
Obviously, my plan didnâ€™t work. I didnâ€™t have to go to the hospital or anything, though. I downed it, and my heart was pounding, to the point that I just knew I was going to die. So I laid down in bed, pulled the covers over my head, turned on Relient K, and tried to go to sleep. Yes, I did go to sleep, and I woke up feeling likeâ€¦ Iâ€™ve never been drunk, but Iâ€™m sure the feeling is very similar.
Something very interesting happened the next day, though; a girl in my Psychology class, whom I was once best friends with in elementary school, once shared friendship necklaces with me and another girl. Shelby moved, but BJ, from my class, we just never saw eye-to-eye after third grade. Sitting in the gym that day, since our class has went to help clean it up from the yearly exams,Â I hear BJ say to another girl, but to me as well, â€œMe and Jessie used to be BFFs in grade school.â€ And she asked me if I still had my necklace. I remember, it was a purple seal, with what I think was a heart on its nose that it was balancing. Each said BEST, FRIENDS, and FOREVER. I had FRIENDS, because I was in love with that word when I was little, considering how hard I tried to hold onto it. Shelby had BEST, and BJ had FOREVER. Ironically, I gave her the tail one, because I didnâ€™t figure on her being around very long. This day, she said, â€œI still have that necklace. Do you?â€
I didnâ€™t. I told her I did, because I was ashamed of myself. How could I be so stupid for having thrown it out? Or maybe lost it? Iâ€™m not sure what happened to it. Either way, I knew one of two things had happened. Either it had gotten thrown into some garbage that survived through all the years, or maybe there was a part of our time together that she wanted to hold onto, to remember. And when youâ€™re sitting there, thinking how stupid you are that you canâ€™t even kill yourself right, and what method youâ€™re going to choose this night to do it right, you start to pray that it was the later reason. I was sitting there, literally thinking about how to kill myself, and someone gives the audacity to think that maybe someone cared. As Iâ€™ve mentioned before, I stick to my notebook at school. When we got back to the room, I wrote, â€œI almost wonder if that was a sign from Godâ€¦â€
So, I lived, with one more memory to erase from my mind of a failed attempt at my life. The question now isâ€¦ do I try to go continue on, going by what may or may not have been a sign that I need to? Or do I quit now, while Iâ€™m still not afraid to die?