Sometimes, there are times in your life where you can’t help but have to say goodbye. Not because you want, or that you necessarily need to. It’s just one of those unspoken things where if the person you’ve met isn’t suppose to be in your path, you need to say goodbye. But the thing with goodbyes… they aren’t forever. They’re a simple reminder that sometime soon, I plan on seeing you again. Whether it be in my dreams or at a different moment, I’ll see you.
date
Off I go! I’ll be radio silent this weekend.
I’ll be camping. Don’t panic if you don’t see me around for a few days. Because I won’t have internet access.
Be calm. Don’t panic.
HDS is camping.
Have started drinking beer because of course beer. It has a rooster on the label. I’m a light weight, so I’m already buzzed from one beer. Cheap date isn’t the word.
Vacation ahoy!
Here have some really old school Public Enemy:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrtHrW9n_cw
I need a suicide date. date as in, day, not some weird romantic fetish.. But i guess I’ll decide on that later.
I’ve been pushed over the edge now. I don’t have motivation to run away. I don’t have motivation to look for new people or friends. I’ve tried talking and meeting to countless online friends. Some i have pushed away..
I’m done. I can’t do this.
I’ll let you know when i decide on a date.
Thank you Chordful, Kat, Sportsballs, Fakingit.. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.
I wont ever leave without a proper goodbye.
I’d write more, but tears are like burning my eyes.. Is that normal? 0.o
Goodbye for now
My Suicide Date (hopefully)
So, I think I have a date set. June 25, 2016. 6-25-16. June 25 is my birthday and this year I’ll be turning 16. I’ve always wanted to die on my birthday and I still have a little over a month so I’m ready to finally end my pain.
I am so tired of my life and myself, my thoughts makes my throat hurt and the pain shivers down to my chest. Its so tempting to just ram a knife up my throat. If I ever get my own apartment I woulnd’t be surprised if I actually did something like that, I want to cut my guts out, bleed out and destroy myself. As many others on this place my urge grows bigger towards my birthday, I don’t know why that is.. but I suppose to me it feels natural to go out on the same date that you came in.. I also had some goals I wanted to complete before my birthday and of course did not manage.. Hard to know how long I should put up with my life, I don’t want to end up like the older people on this website with huge regrets that they didn’t end their lives 10-20 years ago.
Theres so much I feel like saying today, but then I try and there’s nothing. I go blank. Been feeling like this most of the day, my vision has been all jumpy and strange, & there is no cohesion to my thoughts.
Kinda feel like staying on this train forever ( Im on my way home from work), and dissapearing and starting all over again. Or just dissapearing. I feel like ive past my used by date sometimes. Like I somehow missed my date with the grim reaper. Probably slept thru it, knowing myself. Hiding under the doona and he couldnt find me.
Anyway ive talked enough shit, will finish with this.
If ur young and live at home, dont kill urself till u try living out on ur own. Parents always suck and they will screw u up no matter what. Cos the truth is, they probably had no idea how to raise a happy well adjusted person. If that person even exists. Im still waiting to meet them.
Take care everyone.
I’m not supposed to be here.not even to talk. Even this site, I just wanted to leave my story before I go. I registered set password and it told me it was wrong and asked if I wanted to change my pass word, but I’ve never been here. See I’m always pushed not to talk.
When I was 3 1/2 yrs old, I helped my mother dig up hemlock bushes. She dug around it and clipped the roots, but she couldn’t get to the center root. So she handed me the clippers with the long wooden handles and short curved nose. And I cut the root.
On one bush I couldn’t cut it. I tried sitting on it, laying on it, I just couldn’t do it. Mom asked me to try harder because I was to small to pull the bush over, but I couldn’t do it. I told mom I would pull the bush over, she seemed apprehensive but let me try. I grabbed an upper branch and pulled and pulled until the trunk bent low enough for me to grab the trunk. I pulled myself up and sat on it, but it still wasn’t low enough. So I started bouncing and forced it lower. Finally mom could reach it. I like to admit that she had a hard time cutting it herself. After she cut it she said, “Wow that was a tuff one.
I helped with a decretive stone wall. At 4 yrs old I was shifting her Datsun. At 4 1/2 I was mowing an acre piece of property by hand, 3 weeks later with the tractor. In my baby book under (First helps) it says, “Mow lawn with tractor 4 1/2”
The point is that I was a very talented and intelligent child. I had a great life ahead of me.
But when I was 4 mom brought in my soon to be stepfather, who preceded to beat the crap out of me. I was pushed down a flight of stairs, had a bag of black licorice jammed down my throat and had my nose ripped of my face. I don’t remember these as they happened when I was 3 yrs old. I learned about the stairs from a relative, the licorice from a story my stepfather used to tell, and as for my nose, I still carry the scars. What I do remember isn’t any better.
My mother forget the smart boy I was and believed my stepfather that I was a worthless piece of shit. You aren’t born with social skills, you learn them. And I was taught nothing.
I was constantly beaten, repeatedly knocked unconscious, starved, forbidden to talk to my mother, uneducated, no friends in school because of my angry face. It was a life of hell.
But I was still top sales man in Indian guides and boy scouts, I achieved the highest rank of Eagle scout. I saved my mother life from being thrown down the stairs when I was 10. I walked in the kitchen with an axe, and he ran away and never hit me again. Bullies are babies, I don’t know what she saw in him. I also saved my 4 year old cousin from drowning when I just turned 14. I had jobs and paid my own way.
I was still very damaged, but I was trying. At 17 3/4s I moved to CA. I was trying to move on. But my family wouldn’t let me. By denying the abuse, mom’s family pushed me even further away, which lead to a life of crime. After getting caught and serving 16 months in jail, I tried to start my life.
I ended up a house painter and I was very good. At 28 I started a restoration company in Greenwich CT. I didn’t make a lot of money due to low self-esteem. But I ran it for 12 years.
My poor social skills never allowed me to date a woman I was interested in, the one’s I did were much older than me. At 38 I went into therapy and learned how to smile. But two bad girls friend in a row, lead to my suicide attempt. No matter what I did, I couldn’t heal that abused boy inside me.
I took a bunch of pills, and for some reason I lived. Even the doctors in the hospital were surprised I did. I decided to live and write my book. It was about denial and false perception. I would use my life and family as an example, then show how the world created their thinking. And at the end show the worlds denial and false perception.
I moved to NY to write and joined the painters union. I met another woman who wasn’t good for me and wasted to many years with her. I kept working on my book and recently finished it.
I decided to live to write my book and see where life took me. The book is done and no one is interested, it’s to ahead of it’s time. I have no money left and no work. It turns out that being a great painter in the painters union is a bad thing. It’s not about painting, but kissing ass. And I’m really bad at that. I haven’t been with anyone in years.
And that kills me. I’m good looking, smart, funny, caring, passionate, and affectionate. I’m a good cook, incredible lover. I have made every girlfriend squirt and soak the bed. Kids and animals love me. I have never beaten a woman or abused a kid. I have saved 5 live to date and helped many people make a change in their lives. The only life I can’t save is mine. Because as I helped others, I need help. But there is no help for me.
I’ll be homeless next month, and looking for this false life to be over. My stepfather and mother took everything from me and no one helped me get it back. I have been alone to long now, and no woman wants to date a homeless man. I’m to tired to try all alone anymore. This was never my life, that was taken a long tome ago. Theres to much hate and selfishness in this world.
And my book isolatedmonkey.com was meant to heal that. But no one wants to be healed. We see faults in others, but refuse to see it in ourselves. And because of that, things will never change. It’s at the point that a third world war is needed, to help thin the heard. I just hope after this, we can learn something new and free ourselves of this worldly denial, or it will happen again.
I won’t be around to see it. I’ve done all I can. I don’t want to suffer anymore.
It’s time for a rant!
Sometimes I just need to get things out of my system, otherwise they stay there like bologna someone has left on the counter for ten days. Nobody wants it there but everybody’s afraid to touch it now because it’s green and crawling.
So, here are today’s things that irritate the crap out of me.
- Coupons I don’t find until the day after they’ve expired.
(“Nooooo… one day… late… Must save… twenty-five cents….”) - Loud rambunctious people in public, including kids who shout every sentence while their parents don’t take the time to teach them appropriate volume. Meanwhile the kids just shout louder.
Me: “Wouldn’t it be great if Fischer-Price made shock collars?”
Random Stranger: (*gasp in horror*)
Me: “… what?” - Things that are sticky when I have no idea how the heck they got that way.
Thing: “Here I am, all cold and wet and sticky!”
Me: “What… how…. AaauuugghhHH!” - I love the beautiful flowering trees that are blooming this time of year, and it always makes me sad that they don’t stay that way for very long. Beauty is so short-lived.
- I’ve studied German for over a year, trying very hard to become fluent. Yet this morning when a German friend greeted me (in German), my mind went blank. GaaahhH!
Ich kann nicht denken.
Sehr enttäuschend. - Random memory: In kindergarten, this kid named Randy wanted me to scoot over and get away from him. I didn’t move fast enough, so he grabbed my hand and bent a finger backward, trying to break it, causing as much pain as possible until I got away from him. He never got punished for it.
- My hands are shaking today and I have no idea why. I hope it’s not that Tardive Dyskinesia stuff I’ve heard so much about. Couldn’t possibly be the fact that I’ve drank about 5 caffeinated beverages today. (*ahem*)
- People who have the gall to tell other people who they should/shouldn’t date. People who get completely bent out of shape if you date someone five years older than yourself. Never, ever presume to have that kind of control over someone. Pull that on me and I will completely cut you out of my life, with as many sharp implements as necessary. Do I make myself clear?
.
Person: “You can’t see him, he’s five years older than you! And not that other guy, either, he’s–”
.
Me: “Here, try this arsenic I just baked into some brownies. Or jump off a cliff. Your choice.”
. - I couldn’t think of a ninth thing to add, but I’m sure that somewhere out there is something else.
Ahhh.
I feel better already.
Sort of.
Oh, look…
Brownies!
Hi people, This is my second post and I need a little help. So I am in high school and there is a dance coming up. I plan to go but I would try to get a date. My issue is that I may like a girl, but because of my depression, I isolate my emotions and I don’t know how to ask a girl out or get in a relationship. Can anyone give me some advice?
I don’t know if I’m truly in crisis or just experiencing an increase in intrusive suicidal/ self harm thoughts. I don’t know how to talk to my husband about it because I know it will upset him. I have everything prepared for my final exit right done to method, date and suicide not written. Still, part of me doesn’t feel like I need help. Sorry for the rambling, just really confused. I don’t know if I should reach out to my doctor for help, wait it out and see what happens or just follow through with my plan.
Along with sportsnut, has anyone heard from yelm? I’m so out to date. I know she wasn’t doing well after the last attempt.
Many old timers here will be more familiar with the back story of Dawg … newer folks, feel free to peruse my past posts that date back to 2011.
The cliff notes:
I suffer from chronic back pain … make life difficult and saps my strength and will … often to the brink. And in years passed I was faced with homelessness through foreclosure … at which point I was confident I could implement my “Exit Strategy” and wash my hands of the whole mess. During this whole time … about the only reason I did not end my pain and cut short the inevitable march toward homelessness … was my commitment to and love for the 5 dog I had … and the Suicide Project, which I totally immersed myself in – largely because I know that as an older guy, I could impart knowledge and experience objectively to those who may have never had someone take the time to enlighten them. and so it went – work, pain, dogs, pain, SP, pain, SP, pain, work, pain, dogs pain etc. … not a bad grove for the final march. With a plan in place I felt reassured and confident that come time all would be well, a weight was lifted and I enjoyed my noble calling.
Fast forward to mid 2013 and I go out for a rare evening only to see an old friend’s new band project – yes, they were good 🙂
What I did not expect was that a wildly drunk girl would dump a drink on my designated driver/friend who accompanied me … the drunk girl profusely apologizes and rushes off to buy drinks to replace those spilled … while waiting my friend and I sit at a table with the drunk girl’s friend/designated driver … Who would or could know that woman would find a broke down loser like me interesting. We had much in common regarding animal advocacy. But more interesting than that was we both knew each other and had actually shared the same good friends although her and I had never formally met or said “hi” in passing – but I distinctly remember from all those years ago, those eyes that twinkled eternal hope and that smile as bright as a late spring day at high noon. We had had maybe two or three indirect encounters over the course of about 20 years and although we were each intrigued about the other, we were never in a position at the time of those encounters to pursue anything.
This woman … at this time was struggling with her own issues as I was … but we agreed that night to talk and maybe date. Long story short – we dated and became BF/GF. During this time, she knew I was facing foreclosure but, as I am wont to do, I played it off as if it was “nothing to worry about” but I kept her at a bit of a distance … or so I thought … because she had no clue what my true plan was should the time come to need to find a bridge to live under.
Finally the day came that my house sold at auction and I had 30 days to vacate … I dutifully told her about this, but reassured her, “Something would come up and work itself out” … “It always does”, I sad with a knowing confident smile. Well something did “come up” … she shockingly asked me to move to her house.
Here, I reside today with her snoring like Homer Simpson next to me (No, it does NOT bother me – I find it endearing 😛 )
Now, just for perspective … my pain is worse … and like all women, they make demands … nothing unreasonable for a reasonably healthy person … but difficult for me with my health issues – yet I bend over backwards to accommodate – hikes, fairs and lots of other physical activities … of course a healthy person can’t know truly what they are asking a physically damaged person to do and they can’t comprehend that each new event hastens the crippling … but I do them none the less … because love.
But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t days that I don’t seriously consider my planned exit – sometimes I honestly think I’d be doing her a favor by cutting her loose from the dead weight of the snagged anchor that in me and my deteriorating body. And I think about it very seriously – until recently …
Here’s the new wrinkle … my sibling recently informed me of their diagnosis for Lung Cancer. … of course my first thought is – “How did YOU get so lucky?!?” But sibling explains the it is their wish that I become guardian of sibling’s teen age child should the worst befall my sibling
SO with all my best laid plans … no matter how much I may craze to end my pain … I now have my dogs … and now my GF … but most of all, my promise to my sibling that I will be guardian until the teenager reaches the age of majority.
So I’ve signed myself up for a pretty guaranteed 4-5 more years of pain and misery as a slave to my damaged physical being. I’m none too pleased with that prospect … while at the same time I’m glad and honored that my sibling has me to carry on if it should come to that … But I’ll do it – it’s my responsibility(s) and an honor and privilege.
So there’s that … 😛
Original Geezer dawg
Kind of hit me like rock, not sure what I expected. And now the swirling depression just sinks in. I was planning to move out anyway end of the month and when I brought it up to bf he basically told me to get the f* out and that I am supposed to be sleeping on the couch and that we are definitely over. I already paid my half of the rent for the 2bedroom apt we share for the end of the month. It seems a little surreal. I honestly thought I was just going to move out and we would eventually break up since we are such different people. I guess I’m making last minute plans, but I have an apartment I was thinking of moving into but it isn’t quite finalized. Not sure if I should be sad or angry. Honestly I think I just feel surreal and maybe even relief? I was looking forward to a lot of things, hopefully getting a new apartment, putting together a photoshoot for headshots and possibly even looking for a new job. I know I shouldn’t stop going fully towards any of these things but now I just feel like everything paused. Can’t get myself to pack more than the first box. Or get back into applying to new job positions. I get so unmotivated when I see how messy my apartment is. It is disgusting, and bf never helped out, always the bare minimum or he would just stop cleaning after 10 minutes of starting. I feel like he expected me to do all the housework. Personally need an equal partner who’s willing to put in 50/50. I guess I should just step back and chalk it up to learning to not date people who wouldn’t date themselves.
I know that I haven’t been around for awhile…… I’m still alive 🙁 and no I’m not implying that I have attempted to change that…… Meh school things have been fairly stressful, and in addition to getting “help” most of my free time has been spent in bed. I’ve sort of been hanging out with people recently, I think I can call them friends, not certain though. Failing school and stuffs as always, my professors hate me because I am a failure who doesn’t take the classes that they teach seriously and I am simply wasting their time. My “friends” have also all mostly started dating people, so they will of course be gradually spending less time around me. 🙁 They will probably grow to hate me too, since they will probably be able to pick up on the jealousy (jealousy is the best fitting word here, but isn’t perfect) that I hold towards them…… It’s not like I have a romantic interest in them or the people they are dating or anything, nor do I have a romantic interest in anybody (never really have either) But I do sort of really want to date somebody, anybody really…… It seems nice to have somebody to be that close to. I guess I am mostly just jealous of their ability of developing interest in people and having a sex drive and all those normal things that they have that enables them to be able to date. :/ I wish I had those things. Meh oh well, I doubt that will ever be a thing I experience, friendship is surprising enough for me to have experienced. My birthday is soon too, this won’t really be an easy birthday either. This is the birthday that when I was very young that I had promised myself that I would kill myself on…… I made that promise to myself over 10 years ago, I don’t know why I chose this one, but it seemed like the right one. I really don’t know if I am ready to die yet though, I want to stay alive as this isn’t really a great time for my father right now…… But how will breaking a promise that I have always been intending to keep feel? I cut myself again tonight, my counselor is going to be mad at me about that 🙁 He probably hates me too…… I want to stop it, I want to stop hating myself too….. I just want to be like most other people……
Sorry for sounding like a whiny little *****, I just needed to tell somebody these things.
“You’ll promise me you wont kill yourself, right? You promise me? Not anytime soon, right?”
*Laughter*
It was the awkward kind of laughter; the funny one for the wrong reasons. The laughter of embarrassment, but all you can manage to muster out is a laugh. And smile. Not the cruel kind of laughter; where you’re teasing the person- getting them concerned.
That’s what I said to the psychologist today.
Or, whatever she was. Of course I promised her.
I have to give her credit, she figured out the date all by herself. She’s pretty smart.
Here’s my advice to you: If the psychologist’s trynna get some answers out of you that you feel you can’t answer without them begging, lie.
And so that’s what I did:
I lied.
At this point in my life, I feel like I’m just overwhelmed with sadness. It’s genuinely at a point where I feel like I’m going to cry all the time because I’m just so intensely sad. All the joy of life has been beaten out of me inch by inch over my 41 years.
But it’s hit me really hard recently. My best friend was just dumped by her husband of 10 years for a younger woman, so I’ve been doing what a friend does and being there as much as possible for her. But part of her initial and possibly unhealthy reaction to this has been to go full slut and start dating anyone she can because the sexual attention makes her feel good. I get it.
But here I am, a short, dumpy, gay, trans girl watching my tall, thin, blonde, straight, cis friend go on a date every fucking night of the week forcing me to reflect on the fact that I haven’t been on a date in 6 years and have all but given up.
My empathetic desire to support my friend in need is actively hurting me because it feels like it’s just throwing in my face all the ways in which I’m broken and will never be happy. What’s more is I can’t even tell her, because she needs healing, not my bullshit baggage.
So now I’m actively resentful of my best friend and I spend every night drinking and crying so much that I pass out, because if I go blackout drunk, at least then I won’t hurt myself, but the reality is I just want to fucking die and end it.
I don’t have the date exactly set, and I’ve only just begun physically drafting the note, after going over it in my head for years. I’m just done. This isn’t out of desperation, fear, etc, I’ve simply made my choice. One I’ve been wrestling with for years. Its too bad though, it was going to be so peaceful and relaxed and no one I care about would have to be the one to find me, but, its most likely not going to work out like that anymore. It doesn’t matter, I’ve made my choice. I may yet decide to postpone the date, but I’m feeling very good about next weekend. Anyways, hope you all are doing well.
I am currently sitting around, midnight close, waiting for…
Well what?
I have nothing more to do but lie here reading other people’s life stories.
But lying down next to loneliness makes me write this message.
I don’t know what will come out of the following post, but I’m merely letting my fingers wander on the keyboard, awaiting whatever question is suddenly formed.
Perhaps this is a start:
How many of you felt depressed as a teenager (as I am one myself), and the situation never has changed, up to this date?
That you’re still constantly burdened with the same unending sadness from years ago, that still haunts you?
That you have yet to experience a change?
I know that asking if “hope really does exist,” is a rather general question, and to be frank, hope is the very last thing on my mind, thus I ask if, personally, for adult readers, if you guys are still living the same endless cycle as your teenage years.
Mind if you give a little story?
I’m merely alone tonight, as every other night:
Just one more night.