So my dad told me today that our family is getting family counseling after a huge spat on Tuesday. Good news I guess; my parents will probably change at least a little, and I might be able to get a prescription out of it.
What if it was an obligation of your country’s government to do whatever it takes to prevent suicide. I mean in the scenario that the government would simply ask you “what would it take to keep you from killing yourself?” And they would do anything possible to give you what you need. Money, medical attention, a home, counseling…etc.. Anything logical you could think of.
My question is “would it work?” To keep you or other people from killing themselves.
And what would you tell your government you need to stay content with your life?
Tomorrow morning Iâ€™m going to my first counseling appointment with a counselor of my choice who specializes in the areas I need help with most. Scared and anxious are words that donâ€™t even do the situation justice. Iâ€™m beyond terrified, but I will be strong and I will not resist help like Iâ€™ve always done in the past. I wish I had just one person standing by my side, telling me Iâ€™m making the right choice and I will be okay, but I donâ€™t. In the end we have ourselves and that has to be enough.
I have suicidal thoughts pretty much everyday that will not go away.
Each day college becomes a closer reality, my anxiety gets even more unbearable.
Iâ€™ve gone from weighing 127 to 121 just this week by restricting calories.
Iâ€™ve also thrown up more times in a week than I did in the entire first 16 years of my life.
Iâ€™ve cut myself because I wanted to control at least some of my pain.
Iâ€™ve kept it all a secret and Iâ€™ve taken special steps to cover it all up.
I need help. Whether I want it or not, I need it. Sitting in a room with a stranger telling them all of the above listed items sounds like Hell. Then again, continuing to live the way I have been, eating barely enough to stay alive and dreaming of death also sounds a lot like Hell. We all have the power to turn our lives around. Itâ€™s a hard concept, I struggle with it daily. I keep thinking I need to be skinnier and sicker before I get help, but why? My family doesnâ€™t support me receiving counseling, they donâ€™t acknowledge mental health in general. Just because they donâ€™t support me doesnâ€™t mean it canâ€™t be done. Iâ€™m the one living with these problems, I know they are real, and it doesnâ€™t make me weak for needing help.
I wish society knew what it was like to live wanting to die. Iâ€™m not crazy, a coward, illogical, weak, or stupid. Iâ€™m a fighter. Sometimes you have to do things you donâ€™t want to do, thatâ€™s why Iâ€™m going to counseling.
So yeah, Iâ€™m scared, but itâ€™s not going to stop me from recovering. I deserve to recover.
Depression and suicidal thinking seems to have taken over my life for the past year…could run on about my sad life… the traumatic sexual assaults as a child…the counseling… but why? Does anyone really care..? well the problem is someone does…my best friend has been dealt a shittier hand in life than me…its what has brought us so close…so there in lies the problem…as much as i want death how can i go through with it knowing how much it will hurt my friend..?
I love my wife and Kids, but I am as low as I have ever been. Â I lost my job, and this forces us to move to a new town. Â My wife resigned her job, my kids 7 and 5 will enter new schools and we will be on my salary alone. Â The pressure is killing me. Â I have never been so close to ending it all. Â I have a new job, I have a good new job, it’s hard for me to see it. Â I’ve been so low for so long. Â My kids bring me joy, that’s why i don’t end it all.
I feel like such a looser. Â I declared bankruptcy a while back, and now fired (resigned) from my teaching job. Â I feel such shame. Â I have a fear that I will be homeless and my wife will divorce me and take my kids to her parents. Â I own my truck, I can sleep in it I guess. Â I have family in California, I can move to be near them, or I can start swimming in the ocean as far as I can go, until I’m exhausted and not able to get back.
My wife should have left me. Â She threatened to, and I went to counseling and we decided to stay together. Â She agreed to stay with me, and I am a looser. I need to snap out of this shit and man up, but that is harder to do than say. My kids need me to man up.
Hey, Im kind of new to this so probably wont explain myself very well. This is actually the first time Ive ever talked about this to anyone if this even counts. Anyways im not sure how I even ended up here I feel like im wasting who ever reads this’ time. I dont want pity I used to do a bit of counseling as a youth worker so I know all the lines like “life is potential death is that potential gone”, I know how to help others I just cant help myself. I dont want pity or sympathy just a logical reason and some advice. I guess you could say im looking for a Vulcan to talk to, no emotions just logic. Im 23 I cant remember ever not being depressed. Bullied all through school no real friends I cried pretty much everyday. I used to think as soon as I grew out of my spots or got a job so I could buy nice clothes or things id be happy. I got a job as a playworker my dream job still depressed. Went to uni made friends, amazing friends, still depressed, still alone. I grew out of my spots, have nice clothes, nice things, girls seem to like me, I like them, they terrify me. Ive had girlfriends before, Ive had plenty but Ive gotten worse recently, dropped out of uni, cant find work, self esteem plumets, no girl deserves me. Im a mess. How can I like someone when I dont like myself. Ive looked for work for two years. I find it unbareable I recieved a rejection letter from mcdonalds, they said I was overqualified. I didnt leave my room for a fortnight, no shower, no food, no friends just to pee. I used to be anorexic, Im a very logical person and realised thats stupid, doesnt solve anything and kicked it but im afraid its coming back.food is all I can control I know its stupid I know why I do it, I know it doesnt solve anything, it doesnt help, I still do it. Ive lost everything that was my, my essence has gone im just a person eating then sleeping then eating then sleeping. Draining money, food and life from the friends and family who help me out. I have nothing to give in return. The only reason im still here is because Ive been trying to think of a way to go without upsetting them. I think I may have found that way and this is where im at. My argument is; if all you are is a drain on of the life and happyness of the ones you love with nothing to give back, when no matter how hard you try you cant move forward, isnt logical to just end it and save them the hassle? Sorry I know that got quite dramatic and tl;dr. I would appreciate any thoughts tho, id love to see the potential thats supposedly there.
I have always struggled with anxiety and depression.
It started when I was 10, I had just started middle school.
I was Bullied. Badly.
Everyday after school I would rush out of the school and try SPRINT home so that the bullies wouldn’t catch me.
They usually did, And I usually went home physically and mentally abused.
I was depressed… but I NEVER thought about committing suicide.
It took a while but my parents finally noticed how depressed I was.
I went to counseling.
It helped, but It didn’t stop the bullies.
That February we moved cities to get me away.
My new school was much better.
I made friends, True Friends. I had my first Romance.
My 8th, 9th, and 10th grade years were the best of my life.
I was Happy.
But then this year, my 11th grade year, everything changed.
My friends, while still close, have other friends.
I was left to my own devices.
I am not the most accepting person.
I don’t put up with crap.
That’s what getting bullied taught me.
Other people don’t like it when I call them out for being rude, or for doing stupid things.
“*****” is a common nickname for me.
I get made fun of in all of my classes, and Online.
The few friends I have made have turned on me, but don’t explain why.
They tell me “Its Your Fault. Everything is your fault.”
I go over every situation, every conversation.
I feel confused, frustrated, anxious, and depressed.
I have good parents, and I am a good kid. Â I get in trouble like every other kid.
But my parents add to my confusion, frustration, anxiety, and depression.
In the past 3 months I have had more panic attacks than I can count.
I can’t stop crying.
I just want it to stop.
My best friend turned on me today. She didn’t even explain why. Just called me a “*****” then walked away.
I haven’t stopped crying.
It hurts. Feeling like this.
My chest feels like it is on fire.
And the worst part is That nobody really cares.
I have a stun gun. I have used it on my self several times.
I forget for a while after using it.
I suppose its my way of cutting.
but it doesn’t leave any real marks.
they fade quickly.
It hurts. I can’t keep feeling this.
I can’t keep getting told I am worthless.
I just want it to stop.
Last night was really scary. Iâ€™m 18, Iâ€™ve had suicidal thoughts off and on for over a year now, but lately they are pretty relentless. Yesterday I was having them all day, Iâ€™m not even sure why. I also just relapsed with my eating disorder. Every day I either restrict calories or eat and then make myself sick. I threw up twice yesterday. When it came time to go to bed I could not think about anything other than killing myself. I started to drift off and as I did I started picturing everyone who knows me going to my funeral and reacting to my death. All of a sudden I started sobbing which woke me up, I was shaking and crying so hard. I started scratching myself on my chest and legs for no reason at all. I was acting completely insane. I started choking because I was crying so hard and then I almost threw up for what would have been a third time that day. I laid back down, still upset, and prayed to God. I was still sobbing, begging him to help me. Eventually I must have fallen asleep, because thatâ€™s all I can remember.
I want to desire life, not death. I canâ€™t control these thoughts though. I wouldnâ€™t even be able to explain it to anyone who hasnâ€™t experienced it themselves, how it feels to dream of suicide and not be able to control it. Iâ€™m supposed to be going to college in the fall, all my friends are so excited to be moving on in life, but Iâ€™m not like them.
I think itâ€™s time I get help. Iâ€™ve always been extremely resistant to counseling, but maybe thatâ€™s what itâ€™s time for. I canâ€™t keep living like this, I just canâ€™t. I donâ€™t think itâ€™s fair to my family and friends to kill myself without asking for help first. So Iâ€™m going to be strong, Iâ€™m going to face my fear of counseling, and Iâ€™m going to pray for support and success. I want to talk freely and openly about my feelings to the counselor once I build a little trust, but I donâ€™t want there to be a threat of her having to tell my family. I donâ€™t believe I will follow through with my suicidal thoughts, they are just thoughts that are plaguing my every day. Has anyone here ever opened up to a counselor about these thoughts? How did it go?
So I’m seventeen, 17, just graduated from high school. I’ve been struggling with suicidal thoughts for about 4 or 5 years now. I attempted suicide in 2011 after I was hurt by someone who meant the world to me and I regretted everything. I’ve started up counseling since May 10 this year and have started medication but I still have depressed days and days that are hard to get through. I feel like nothing helps. What broke me is I had a nervous breakdown a few days before I started meds and going to counseling and nearly ended it. I have a box filled with pills I’ve stolen from my father who is heavily medicated and aspirin. It just gets more and more difficult as the days go on. Mom and Dad talk about how much things cost, how it gets harder and harder as the days pass and how much food is. I feel like death would be one final expense for me in which they could sell my car and a few of my other belongings to pay for my funeral then I wouldn’t be eating anymore. I’m obese. I weigh 314 pounds (I’ve lost 5 pounds since starting medicine, that’s progress but still) My relationship is kinda falling apart and I’m just paranoid altogether. The government will kill me because I speak truth. Truth is the new hate speech. I think they’ll kill me for saying my opinion. Or I’ll “mysteriously” pass away. I’m sick of this. Today it has been really hard too. Can anyone give me any advice or message me? I’ll reply later I promise.
I have been a drug addict since I was 15. Â Ive had periods of sobriety the longest being four years however I am once again in active addiction. Â I am a failure in every sense of the word and all I want is to die. Â I have tried several times and just like everything else I try to do in my miserable life I failed. Â I am emotionally and spiritually dead already and have been for most of my life. Â Im 30 years old unemployed and live with my parents. Â Three years ago I owned a home with my beautiful fiance. Â I had all the material things I could have wanted but I was raging inside. Â I had a very fulfilling life yet as always was completely miserable inside. Â I am now and always have been filled with feelings of inadequacy and self-hatred. Â I dont deserve love or affection, I am ugly and pathetic inside. Â I hate everything about me and drugs are my only comfort yet they completely destroy my life. Â Ive tried counseling, medication, 12 step programs, in-patient and out-patient therapy. Â Nothing ever works. Â I have no will or desire to continue living this horrible life. Â I take full responsibility for my situation, I know full well I caused all of this. Â I want it to end I can not take this anymore. Â The pain I feel is unbearable. Â Its suffocating.
I made the worst mistake of my life by trying to end it.Â But the craziest thing happened.Â It became the biggest blessing as well.Â I grew up hearing things like, “you’re ugly,” “worthless!” “a mistake” “why didn’t you get an A?”Â This over time by family, peers, and our culture in general just eroded my self-confidence and by the age of 23 I was in full blown anger and depression.Â I was so tired of being rejected, judged, teased, bullied, etc that I couldn’t see any other solution but taking my life and so I tried.Â Well, God decided he had another plan and I failed at that too.Â But I am glad I did, because after that I woke up in a mental institution and had time to really think and actually LISTEN to what he wanted for me.
I decided, I didn’t want this kind of life anymore so I went to counseling and began to heal.Â As I did, I noticed all the pain that other people were going through and feeling.Â It’s amazing if we pay attention just how much people are suffering, but yet still continue to put on a happy face.Â This is ridiculous, so I decided that maybe my story might help or inspire others to heal and let them know they aren’t alone, so I wrote a book. It’s called Breaking Through Darkness and can be found on Amazon if anyone reading is interested.Â But anyway, I know how it feels to become a statistic, to be preached at, or given a line like, “it’ll be ok,” or “things will get better.” These empty lines are usually said by people who have no idea what it’s like to hate yourself so much that you just don’t give a crap about living anymore.Â It’s to make THEM feel better not you.Â To all the people that feel worthless and don’t feel like your life matters, I just want to say to you.Â I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL !
This is kind of long….
The longer I sit here the more I think about not posting this, returning to my dark corner of existence, but posting will relieve some of this pressure… I hope. I don’t know why I chose now to share my story, but then again maybe I do. For my degree I have to take a mandatory counseling class, and to pass the class we were made to stand in front of the entire class and tell about how screwed up our lives had been. Loss. Heartbreak. Rape. Molestation. Abuse. Suicide. We heard it all. Having to go through my own personal hell and then hear about everyone else’s? Why did we have to go back down memory lane and relive things that had been dead and buried? I’m already shy enough without having to stand in front of a bunch of people and explain…. No matter how I try I can never find the words, but then again why should I have to explain myself? The Professor told me to start from the beginning… so I did. I told the story of being abuse by my kindergarten teacher, about being bullied and injured in school, about moving away to a new scary place. I told him how my other teachers used to curse and yell at me till I cried. I told him I had no friends, no allies, nothing. I didn’t want to keep going, but he made me “for your grade” he said. Honestly, I think he just wanted to hear how messed up I really was, like a gawk-er at the scene of an accident. I told him how I finally found someone to talk to, she made me laugh and I was happy for awhile. Until I noticed the cuts on her arm… she would never tell me why. I just left it alone. I should have said something. A year later, she killed herself. I was horrified. What could I have done to save her? I could have said something… But I didn’t and now her blood is on my hands. I told him that losing her was like losing a part of my soul. I was upset for a long time after she passed. I was known as the Suicide Girl’s friend, or any variation of that. I didn’t understand why she left me here, but I still miss her. Over the next year I started getting “lippy” or whatever you call it. My mom and dad fought all the time normally about me or my grades. My mom decided that smacking me was a good idea. WRONG. She used to hit me and I took it til that day. I struck her back only to get held down and beaten, yanked up and pushed so hard I cracked open my head. My dad heard the noise ran in swooped me and my sister away. I got 27 stitches that day. He told me I could never tell anyone about it. EVER. So I never did. That moment was my deciding moment. I didn’t want to live. I wanted to be set free. I started with a pair of scissors over my wrist, just scratches. I grabbed a kitchen knife, not deep enough, grabbed my dad’s box knife. Bingo. I sliced and sliced until i couldn’t see anything anymore…. I woke up the next day… I was still alive…. I cleaned up the mess and myself. I couldn’t understand it. The teacher just looked at me….so did everyone else, the color drained from their faces. I wanted to sit down, but they were hooked. “What then?” So, I told them I healed, scarred, but healed. I told them that every little thing set me off, I would wait til my mom was asleep, grab the knife from its hiding place and start all over again, but this time death wasn’t what I wanted. It was pain. I cut on my thighs, legs, ankles, shoulders, wrists, feet, everywhere I could. At that time I wasn’t even in high school yet. In high school things got better for awhile. Freshman year I fell in love…. with a teacher. He was all i though about, everyday I wanted to tell him, to confess my love for him. I never did. For me it was like being ignored all over again. I know it was a stupid fantasy, but back then it was oh so real. I did everything to impress him, but with no reward, no praise. I kept cutting. Sophomore year, I met people that would become my best friends. The thing that drew us together? Cutting. We all had the scars. We talked and became close. I also got my first boyfriend. We dated 4 month….. he broke up with me saying my mood swings were insane and he couldn’t do it anymore…. I just stood there….I left school and went home to my metal comfort laying under my bed. I slashed and diced until I heard my mom call my name. I cleaned quickly, wrapped my cuts, and went to see what she wanted. She never noticed. Time went on things got bad then got better. Late my junior year after a bad day of torment and bullying at school, I let myself have it, I cut everywhere I could think of. Two nights later….. I stretched and the ugly truth was seen clear as day on my stomach. My mom screamed and yell and drug me by the wrist to the kitchen staring at me in disgust… she took pictures….. of everything. Every mark every scar… then she drew a knife from the block… “Do it.” I stared at her…. “Show me how you did this.” So I did. I sliced into my flesh right in front of her…. she screamed snatched the knife from my hand…. it was a test….a test that I failed. She screamed and threw me in my room. Told me to wait til my dad got home. I look out at my class, Some of the older woman with children are crying. Many of them are just staring with mouths wide open… I just stood there for a minute then I started again. My dad wasn’t angry… just sad. He couldn’t even look at me. That night he and my mom fought over why I did what I did, blaming each other. That night my dad left….. he left me there. I never wanted to cut more in my life, but my friend had been taken. I just laid there and cried….. a week later my dad came back, and everyone pretended like nothing had happened. Mom never got me help. Never took me to a doctor. Never did anything. I stopped for awhile, I mean getting body checks 2 times a day for 6 months really kind of prevents it. Things got back to “normal” soon enough……
Sorry this was scary long just was in the writing mood I guess
I came from a unforunate upbringing. Suffice to say, there was lots of weird stuff that is crimminal and will follow me until the day that I die. I put up a shell that protected me. When I moved out of the house at 18 I lived alone. I worked alone. At this time I was morbidly obese. I overcame that addition. Got in shape. Enlisted in the reserves. Finished my B.Sc. and now find my self in Law School. It took me 12 years of my life to get to be a freshman law school student. 4 years ago I met a girl. Despite the fact that I was 26, this girl was the first girl that I was ever with. It had grown the point where we were planning mairrage. I had been planning a trip in may to go an a trip an propose. I extended in the reserves for a piddlydink 5k for 3 years so that I had the money to finally buy a ring. Communication has been strained. From my childhood and how I grew up I avoid confrontation with all of my life. I do not yell. I do not fight. I really do not drink. I get a text during the second semester of my Law School semester last Thursday saying she was going to her parent. She told me, eventually, that I do call her, do not text her, do not email her do no write her. Before this, and I realize I should have told her about my fucked up past, I sent her and email to her saying what happened to me as a child. This was by no means an excues, but a way to say look…. mabe this could be a root couse. She said she could not help me. She said I need to go get proefssional counseling. She said I need to talk to my family about it. I realize that I have been inattentaive and not as expressive as I should have been, ESPEACIALLY the last 6 months or so. I have no time. I go to school before the sun goes up and come back home after the sun goes down. This includes weekends. When not at school on the weekends, I do reserve time for the reserves. She fucking threw me away like a piece of shit down a toilett. I am now looking at a career whos only choice for me to enter into was really to provide a better life not just for me but for us. I opended up and told her something I told no one for 25 years and all she could tell me in one single way phone conversation was her “top 5” of why she was made and the ultimatium of not being at my house so she can get her stuff. (1) I told her how to close the door [not slam it], (2) I told her how to smoke a cigarette [in jest], (3) I made fun of her dog, (4) I made fun of her mother, (5) I made fun of an aquantiace she has known for about a year at her work. She says Im shelfish and its all me me me. I I I. I thought that there was a bigger picture. I now am looking at the prospect that I opened up to this person after 4 years and let her in and she didn’t care enough to call me. She didnt care enough to accept my invitation to go to counseling. I have recieved nothing from her except one angy yelling phone call and it has now been a week. I now find myself in a degree program with stifling debt, that I have no interst in, whose sole reason I entered into was to provide a better life for the team to find out there was no team. Alone again alone again. I can not deal with it. I cannot bury what I told her again. I cannot process and figure out why she did what she did. I do not understand why she is not willing to come and talk with me or come to counseling with me. I do not want to do this anymore. I have been going so hard for so long to try and get somewhere, and I thought I had someone to get somewhere with and now I realized it was all for not. Now, all this said, I dont want to here “dont do it”. I have already tried to eat a bullet from a .357. I tried two nights in a row and for the life of me I cannot not pull the freaking trigger becase I am too much of a fucking *****. I need to know a way, likke a drug, that I can take where I can just pop the pills and fall asleep. I feelÂ that this would be better anyway as it would leave a pretty body afterwards. My famliy is taken care of, I have great insurance that covers sucide. I am worth more to the people around me dead. I need to know what to take. I cannot find strait answers on the internet. I need to know what I can get over the counter that wont fuck up. No fuck ups. No walking up. Done. Please advise.
I’m not really wanted here at my home, my town, or my school. People even say it to me. Everyone seems to be strait up with me. Like “No one even likes you here, just leave already.” “If you take all of your medication and die no one would even care.” I mean like, I ignore them. But I can see why they don’t like me, I don’t even like me. Haha. I’m ugly, I’m too quiet, I never talk, I’m weird, I stare too much, I try to be smart in school (but get judged for it), my whole life revolves around my dead dog. Like I’m a total freak! Anyways, last night was another big freight train. Literally, a whole post was about me, a couple people actually backed me up. But others just made fun of me and told me to kill myself (of course). I’m basically used to all of this now. My normal days consist of: Waking up, getting yelled at for being late because I couldn’t wake up (insomnia), going to school, having everyone give me a dirty look, have a couple say a few mean things, get yelled at and embarrassed in class, go home, lay in bed, cry my eyes out for about 20 mins, try to find whatever is sharp enough to pierce through my skin (since my parents took away everything I had to harm myself), cut myself, take some pills and pass out. My family doesn’t talk to me much, when they do they always yell and me and call me some mean names, my brother abuses me so I try not to go outside my room much. This town is just full of a bunch of stuck up preppy bitches, and meth heads. Everyone here is judgmental and they don’t care about anyone, but themselves. Oh here I go blabbing on and on and on, I’m really just wanting to express my feelings here. Anyways I’ll continue, well I’m only 15, diagnosed with depression, schizophrenia, and bi-polar. It has tooken over my life, I’m trying to get better. Ive been to counseling, therapy, mental hostpitals, and rehab; it’s all a joke. None of it actually works. My medication calms me down a bit, but not much. I don’t want to be selfish and just take my life away just like that, even though that’s what it might come to I if I don’t change soon. My first attempt at suicide was when my bestfriend passed away last year. She was my everything, I looked forward to her everyday, to hug her, kiss her, snuggle with her, and just tell her I love her more than anything. She was 14, she was my twin (even though she’s a dog, we were still born the same day, year, an hour.) I basically took pain killers, started throwing up uncontrollably, and was carried away to the hostpital, got my stomach pumped, sent to a mental institute. After that, everyone knew the real me. Everyday day I have a fake smile on my face so people won’t bother me, everyday I feel like I’m suffering. I know there’s more out there that have worse life’s, but it’s just so hard not to tell everyone what’s going on. I mean like I don’t want to bottle it all up. Please help me.
Yes. I’m a 16 year old girl. No.I don’t want to kill myself over a boy. Or a girl. Or a bully. Or drugs. Or any of the typical things i’ve seen so far on this site. I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me. By all rights, i should be a happy kid. I have a good life, I’m smart, talented and funny. So why do I want to die? Why is it that I want nothing more than to not have to exist anymore? Let me tell you why.
My mother and father both had perfect SAT scores. My aunt is the head of neuroimaging research at brown. My aunt and uncle are both professors at brockport. My uncle is a professor of microbiology and genetics studies at ithaca. My cousins all had perfect or near perfect SAT scores. My little sister has a 99.8 average. Could you live up to that? If i come home with anything less than a 95 on an exam or a test, I’m verbally assaulted and made to feel worthless. I’m also a dancer, singer, actress who plays piano, guitar and flute. But if i don’t get a lead in the show, or if i’m not selected for a solo in dance i’m not worthy to call myself part of the family. If i dont look pretty enough at school, my mom makes sure to point it out. Literally everything i do has to meet someone else’s expectations. I can’t be perfect anymore. And i know i sound stupid and shallow, and what i’m going through is not even half as awful as what other people are going through, but it’s too much. I’ve tried talking to my parents, and they wont listen. I’ve tried counseling and therapy and in-patient treatment and nothing works. So at what point do i just give up? I’m never going to be half of what my parents want me to be… so what’s the point? I may as well save them the embarassment and just cut myself out of the picture n0w.
I don’t have friends because i’m too focused on school to have a social life. I wish i did, but i’m not allowed to leave the house without one of my parents with me. No one wants to talk to me in school because i’m the “try-hard” that makes everyone else look bad. I’m stuck in my own personal brand of hell. And i don’t know how to get out. i’ve self mutilated for 3 years now. That didn’t help. Drinking myself into oblivion didn’t help. Therapy didnt help. Hospitalization didnt help. Attempting suicide was the only thing that got me anywhere near where i wanted to be.
I’m not entirely sure why i’m posting this; whether it’s for advice, or a pity plea, 0r just to put my feelings out there so I can externalize it. I really dont know. I’m going to wait a bit and see how i feel after posting this, but i’m pretty sure this is the last thing anyone will ever read from me. #sorrynotsorry
Im frightened of living, but also of dying.
This has been of my mind for a long time, but now i received a message that murdered me emotionally.
Help. I’m stuck between two things. Please… dont mention counseling. Ive tried it and it only brought me down more. My family and ‘friends’ think im okay again.
I’m 17 years old, a senior in high school. My grades are flawless, I’m going to college next year on an academic scholarship. I’m going to be a neonatal nurse, to save innocent babies. I’ve never drank, never smoked, I rarely swear, I refuse to do drugs, andÂ I’ve told guys no when they want to sleep with me, all to set a good example for my younger sisters. My teachers love me,”I never fail to brighten their day!” Next month I’m going to be an American Sign Language teacher to elementary students and in March I’m going to be an aunt for the first time! I have friends who love and support me which is why I absolutely love school and my favorite thing to do is make other people happy!
Why do I cry myself to sleep practically every single night then? Why have I considered suicide so many times? Why do I feel so guilty and so worthless?
When people ask me about how it feels to know I’m going to college next year I smile and pretend to be excited, but honestly I’ve never been so scared for anything in my life. Everyone thinks I’m hilarious, but what no one would guess is that I have to have weekly meetings with the school counselor because of ongoing family issues, an anxiety disorder, and an eating disorder. Last year things got really bad when I refused to eat for days straight, I was on both the winter track and swim team, practicing on 0 calories. I was forced into counseling by my school counselor and teachers which is where we learned my parents are in deep denial. I want to make my parents proud, I don’t mean to be so messed up… that’s why this time around I haven’t told them. The act I put on isn’t entirely fake; or at least that’s what I tell myself. My sister that’s pregnant was kicked out of my family a few years ago, now my parents want nothing to do with her. I’m not supposed to have contact with her but she needed my support so now I’m helping her without my parents knowing. Keeping secrets is exhausting. I don’t really talk to my parents but if I did I would look them in the eyes and apologize for not being perfect, for not agreeing with them, for starving, Â for not speaking, for being afraid, for needing counseling, for helping my sister.
Sometimes I want to die. I want to close my eyes and never wake up. Itâ€™s my darkest secret. My teachers, school counselor, friends, and coaches have described me as â€œremarkableâ€ â€œsmartâ€ â€œbeautifulâ€ â€œamazingâ€ â€œhilariousâ€ â€œimportant.â€ But they donâ€™t understand what it feels like to go home and never feel good enough. For Christmas, all I want is for my parents to tell me they love me. For them to support me and understand that itâ€™s okay to not be okay. My parents donâ€™t know I hurt, even if they did they would probably ignore it.
I pray to God for strength. I trust in Him to get me through this, to take me to a better place.
I some times come to this site and read the articles on here. Sometimes to get ideas and others because it makes me feel less alone, but no matter how much I read it, I just feel useless. Why am I sad, why can’t I be happy, why can’t I want something, why do I have no motivation, no drive, no love for anything? Why can’t I try to be the person I want to be? Why can’t I end it? I just want it all to end and disappear I wish I was never born then I won’t be a burden on anyone, I wish I could erase my existence. For these 30 years of my life, I”ve amounted to nothing. I went back to school but nothing sticks, it just disappears, it’s all pointless. The only reason I’m still going is because I promised my mother I’d let her see me walk and I hate it, I didn’t do it when I got my associate because I didn’t fell like I deserved it and even now I don’t feel I deserve it. I’m stupid less than stupid, why can’t I remember? Why am I so useless?
Why do I feel all of this? I didn’t suffer in life, I had a roof over my head, food, water, parents who sort of loved me. I have a sister, who I connect to, well not really, if I tell her something she’ll just tell my mom. I learned that earlier in life when I used to keep a diary. Maybe more than a rant these are my last words. No one I know will see them, well I don’t really know many people anyways. The only friends I have, if you can even call them that are my family, and some online ones. I’ve gone to the same school for over 3 years and I haven’t made a single friend. I’m good at putting on a front in class but when I leave the classroom it disappears. Maybe my dog will miss me. Anyways, I’m 31 years old, I’ll graduate in May of next year, and a week or a month later I’ll take my life. It will be no loss to this world, and yes I’ve tried drugs and they didn’t help, I’ve got some counseling at the school but discontinued after the previous summer break, it didn’t feel right going back. I can’t really afford it anywhere else and since I’m suffering from social anxiety with depression as well group therapy wont work. I stopped taking my pills last month because I go through periods where I can’t afford it, and have to occasionally reapply for county medical, but I feel wrong doing it, when there are others with real problems who need it. Either way, after not taking it for a couple weeks I decided to go cold turkey. Did I ask my doctor? No. I’m pretty sure she sees me as a pain, and I don’t have a therapist, no money. Going on and off the pills hurt just as bad as being off of them, so meh.
I know this is long, but you don’t have to read it. I just need to write it somewhere. Anyways, I’m off my pills and don’t plan on going back, they work so well I made the mistake of telling my mom about my depression ( I still live with my parents by the way, and have no job), and telling her other things and got the same spiel about god saving me and him. It’s unfortunate but I don’t believe in the mythical man in the sky, well not hers, the way I see it , if God cared about me, he wouldn’t make me feel miserable. Or he’s punishing me for something I’ve done in a past life or something, either way he’s no help. My moms also a fan of the belief that I take too many pills and that my high blood pressure pills are the ones fixing my problems not the others, and even though I told her my problem it’s like she totally ignores it. I have to reassure her I”m not blaming her for something, and walk a tight line as usual. It was a mistake telling her anything and I regret it, I thinks she hates me now, or hates me more. I try so hard to be everything for everyone and it’s ripping me apart, and when I stop trying I just get blamed for things and yelled at. I make concessions for everyone else, work around everyone else’s schedule, do things for everyone else, because yes I can’t support myself right now, but even when I was young it was like that. I just can’t take it anymore, they act like I do nothing ,when I fix everything in this house, do her taxes, call the bills for her, make arrangements, sign papers, fix everything electrical they tend to break, but I do nothing. Sorry side note.
I’m off my pills, yes I’ve called a suicide hotline before, and I got put on hold, as demeaning as can get. I’m 350 pounds because I eat my way to happiness, and when I try to lose, I just get criticism, looks and stairs. I’m majoring in marine biology and everyone around me is thin, and beautiful, and smart, and I know I’ll never get a job in that field. It makes me miserable to go to class, I’m always the one falling behind, or who can’t engage in their conversation. I know they think, I don’t belong. I think it too. Either way, I’ve decided to grant my moms final wish, then a week later I’ll end it. With the last of my school money, I’ll rent a room, build an exit bag, use the months worth of pills I’ll save up and take my life. I figure if I mix my blood pressure pills, celexa, wellbutrin, allergy pills and some over the counter pain meds in a sludge, making sure to do it in a way to prevent a gag reflex, It should work. Oh, I’ll also leave a note for the person that finds me, to apologise for leaving something unsightly behind, and maybe a tip if I have it. I hope I can get the courage, I don’t know what’s after, but I hope I just become nothing. I don’t want anything after, just nothing, and I know my family will get over it, and they’ll be able to save some money and have more freedom than dealing with me. Either way, I just want it to end.
I have a really good life at school, but my home life isn’t so good. Ever since I started high school my mom has set stricter rules. I’m really getting sick of it. A couple weeks ago she got so mad at me for saying “okay” to her when she told me to dust. in fact, she got so pissed off she grabbed my arms, then my neck, and then my head and squeezed as hard as she could. I guess you could say she abuses me verbally with “You’re going to kill me.” and “You are the worst child.” She has never apologized to me because she can’t handle being wrong. I’ve really considered going to live with my dad, so my life would be better. I started to cut in 7th grade, she has found out and put me in counseling, but she still thinks I do it because of boys when I really don’t. I do it for 3 reasons.
1. How my mother abuses with her words and it’s EXTREMELY hurtful when she is supposed to care for you and love you no matter what.
2. I have a issue with my hair. It’s called alopecia areata. I’ve struggled with it since 4th grade and I went to a dermatologist every month to get injections to help my hair grow back. At first they helped but a year ago I lost all my hair and quit the injections. I’m proud to say that I’m having some re-growth(: But I wear a wig, and I haven’t had it for a year yet and it’s already breaking. I found out a couple weeks ago that all the freshman at my school know about it…\:
3. My mother never has anything nice to say about my dad. I love my dad to death and rarely get to see him. She will say “He doesn’t love you.” “he doesn’t care about you.” She will always turn things around so it’s his fault instead of hers. Over the course of the summer she and him got into a fight about paying for my new 650$ wig.
Hi, I’m HangedKiller, and this is my story.
Obviously, HangedKiller is not my real name. I don’t know why I’m talking about this on the internet, but there’s something screaming inside of me.
I attempted suicide by hanging the summer of 2009.
Asian families have no room for your opinions or your dreams. I became accustomed to the ‘sit down and shut up’ routine.
Becoming used to being nothing is so horrible.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t live up to their expectations. No matter how much I lived for their ideals, it started falling apart in sophomore year of high school. I was a 4.0 student until then, and then depression hit and I started getting B’s. Then C’s. And then D’s and F’s. I couldn’t see what I was good for. I wasn’t stellar at Piano. I wasn’t going to be an academic valedictorian. I was ashamed of myself. I thought I was worthless. I started cutting in the beginning of sophomore year. I hated my cowardly self, how lonely I felt, how restricted I felt, how much I hated Christianity, how hopeless I felt. My future as the filial asian daughter was to study hard, go to a great college, get a Ph.D, and be some professor or researcher Â with equally successful children. I DIDN’T WANT THAT. But I couldn’t say anything.Â My grades and my depression were inversely related. One spiraled down as the other escalated. I lost my grasp on life. When report cards came out, I hid it for weeks. I tore it up and threw it away.
When I could no longer avoid the truth, I waited until my mom and dad were out of the house. I looped a belt around a stair rail and tried to hang myself.
It didn’t work. Â (obviously) I was caught.
I survived, and everything about my grades came out to my parents. Even then, I couldn’t communicate with them what was wrong. A week later, they were acting like everything was back to normal. Besides my abysmal grades, they acted like nothing had ever happened. I have never received counseling, and I still cannot tell them anything. My world views are vastly different from theirs, but I play the role of the good daughter and do as they say.
I continued to cut. My parents still don’t know. I cut open old cuts to prevent wide regions of scarring. I have been cutting for three years, and they still don’t know.
Because of my grades from sophomore year, I basically redid my whole second semester while taking all my classes for junior year. It was a double courseload. I couldn’t keep up, and my grades only drifted back up to B’s and C’s. This continued all through the rest of high school. I scraped my way into a decent college, but it was a huge disappointment to my parents. I wasn’t in Berkeley or Harvard or MIT or even Cornell. My parents couldn’t show their faces in front of their friends. On my birthday, my mom cried and screamed that I should have died. I felt guilty for wasting my parents efforts and time.
Three years after my suicide attempt, I still cut. It’s not that serious. It’s just methodical; slicing open the same old wounds. I hug that same belt at night sometimes, feeling the cold metal and dreaming of death. I still hate myself. I still want to die everyday. I lost the one person that I could lean on, and now I can’t tell anyone how lost and alone I feel. I was supposed to be all better. They all want to pretend it never happened.
I want to die. But I’m afraid. I’m a failure. I can’t even die properly. I’m wasting my parents money by going to college. I’m a waste of space. I should have died three years ago. These thoughts multiply and I crumble everyday. I don’t cry anymore when I cut. Living with the depression and hatred of myself has become the twisted way I live. Why can’t I die? I don’t want to hope.
I should have died.