I remember a time when I had dreams. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to build a home with you. With plants and pets and our little girl. I wanted to travel the world with you. Walk through Rio. Stay up all night at the beach and talk and laugh and enjoy life or even just sit there and look at the stars. I wanted to celebrate our successes. Have you there the day I get my bachelor’s degree and be there the day you open your first business. I even wanted to experience the bad sides of life with you. Cry in your arms after losing someone, be worried for our child when she’s sick.
Life is different now. My dreams are different now. What I want now is to never wake up again. I leave my door open at night hoping that today will be the day a killer comes and does what I’m too weak to do. When that doesn’t happen I wish for work. I want to be busy to temporarily forget about myself and my emotions and just be a machine that does what it’s supposed to do. Which is ironic because it also stresses me out and makes me cry. But that kind of pain is easier to handle than the one related to you. A life without emotions is what I strive for now. I used to be excited to feel all those emotions, good and bad. I felt prepared to do it with you by my side and I was prepared to help you too. I’ve come to the conclusion that emotions are the worst that’s ever happened to humanity. In the end they’ll always hurt you and the good ones are only there to make the bad ones even worse. Sure, people say they’re what makes life worth living but to me they’re what makes death worth considering. Guess those people are luckier than me.
I feel helpless. I can’t do anything to get out of this situation. You’re keeping me in it saying you’ll change and throwing in a nice word every once in a while to keep me on the hook. And I’m scared to leave so I happily take the bait again and again. The only thing that would maybe help would be talking about it but the people I trust enough to tell won’t listen. I still try to tell them because I don’t know what else to do but end up getting even more hurt when they don’t pick up the phone, leave me on read or take days to reply. I know it’s inconvenient when I call in the middle of the night but that’s just when I get overwhelmed most of the time.
I just really hope tonight’s the night someone finds my unlocked door or I find my courage.
Greetings, fellow site members.
I realize that today is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month and, as many helpful folks like the ones on this website have helped me battle suicide, I want nothing more but to return the favor.
I have been battling bipolar depression for almost four years. I wish not to put it in any further detail, but as the months passed by, friends, hotlines, and random website folks like you guys have gradually convinced me that it just isn’t the answer. It actually does get better. And as much as these people successfully conveyed that message to me, I want to convey it to at least one person who needs it so the world has one less tragic death on its hands.
So, to anyone in this website tired of the struggles of life, wanting to leave this world… there is another way. There is still so much to live for. No matter how hated you may feel right now, if you do go, someone out there–be it your parents, a friend, or even a random bloke watching a YouTube tribute–WILL miss you or at least wish they could have done something to prevent it.
I’m here to talk. You can tell me your problem in the comments, or you can e-mail me at pcprincipal049@gmail.com (have no fear, this isn’t my primary email) and I’m pretty much awake all the time.
Thank you all 🙂
I OD’d on my psychotropic (/psychiatric) pills in 2019. ‘Twas a heavy overdose and my pills were strong and of very high dosages. I was naturally almost sure that I’d wind up dead. But guess what? I woke up in the morning. Not in a good state at all, but I awoke. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t utter a solitary word. Hell, I couldn’t even see things. I was cold. I’ve a long history of mental illnesses – BD (+ Psychosis — Schizoaffective disorder) and various PDs, so my folks figured out that I must’ve once again yanked some suicidal sh_t when I didn’t answer their calls. I guess they must’ve checked the locked medicine cabinet to find out that the pills were missing from it, and the lock was picked. They stormed into my room only to see me half-alive, half-dead. I was soon rushed to the emergency room. Gastric lavage was carried out. Ewald tubes were let down my entrails. Cannulas and tubes all over – IV and NG tubes. Oh, did I mention fecal incontinence? Pathetic. That was a nightmare. That really was. I’ve pulled through seizures, tremors, and H(a)ematemesis. You might be wondering why I pulled it again. Right? Well, I was so f_cking desperate, and I was actually dumb enough to redo it. I was that desperate to die. I still am. But only now, I’ve learnt the lesson that overdosing on your pills isn’t a cool way to go. It’s painful. It’s humiliating. It’s hardly successful.
Right to die must be a thing. Assisted suicide must be a thing. (Update: Heard from a Swiss friend of mine that it’s actually a thing in Switzerland — Exit, Dignitas presumably offer the services… Why not here?) I know when my mind and body can take no more. I know how it feels to be so mentally f_cked when nothing actually is wrong in your life (or is everything?). I’m convinced that killing myself will be the kindest thing I can ever do to myself. So, I will not stop you with the lame a_s TED talks. However, do not overdose on your psychiatric pills… or try to slit your ulnar or radial arteries, please. I’ve around 30+ sutures on just my left arm, and I’m still alive. Over-the-counter P500/P650s OD in 2017, and I’m still alive — N-AC treatment. Sucks. Maybe I’m just a loser, but that’s for another post! Good day(?)
I don’t know where to post this, so I decided general was my best bet. Sorry if its wrong 🙁
Hello, first I would like to say a few things about myself :
I am a 15 year old female from the United States. I was diagnosed with some basic stuff like Depression, a psychotic disorder, general anxiety (Doesn’t everyone pretty much have that?) and ptsd (Which I don’t really agree with. At the time I had a psychiatrist with a degree from the Caribbean who was only practicing for 2 years and I don’t think I have it or I have a very mild case of it), and we were also exploring the possibility of bipolar disorder when I lost insurance.
Yes, I lost insurance, I no longer have a therapist or psychiatrist to talk to. Even worse, my mom wanted me stop taking my meds because I’m too fat (I’m 170 pounds, so I am actually pretty heavy). I’m very scared of my mom. She threatens me with the mental hospital (as I went there once and my doctor lied about my behavior so I’d stay there longer to collect insurance money and a nurse had to break hospital code to get me out of there) and denies my diagnosis because she said that the psychiatrist said I’m absolutely fine and I have no idea what I’m talking about even though I CONFIRMED my diagnosis with my therapist AND was planning with her to confront my mother, which she says I lie about. I would swear on my grave that that is true and she still wouldn’t believe me.
My mother wasn’t always like this though, she used to be very supportive of me. What made her stop being nice to me was me buying a snack wrap on time. Yes, I’m literally not joking. Her and I were discussing dinner when I had my sister go get me a snack wrap because after the whole conversation with my mom, I thought we had come to the conclusion that I could get a snack wrap. Well I was wrong and when she saw what I got she got very angry at me and yelled at me about how I’m manipulating her and how she wasn’t going to be nice anymore and was going to do ‘tough love’. So yeah, she basically stopped being nice and supportive over a McDonalds SnackWrap.
I hear and see things and have been having a really hard time without my anti-depressants. My voices are commanding and I’ve been very tempted with suicide. I have been looking up how to kill myself and looking at forums like sanctioned suicide. I want to kill myself like how Kate Spade did by hanging herself with a belt in her closet/with a doorknob (?) I’ve read that you pretty much go unconscious very quickly and it seems very ideal. The risk of messing it up and becoming disabled it worth it. No matter how morbid that sounds, I’m just so done with my parents and my mental health.
Now, does anyone have any advice on what I can do to make things worth living. Maybe ways to cope, or some way I can reach out for help without my parents getting notified? (I once talked about their behavior and got screamed at and punished, they also convinced the mental institute I was at at the time that I lied about everything I said about them.)
Hi. I’m not sure if I want to live right now. I’ve been rereading a suicide note that I wrote a while back, trying to change its meaning into something less bleak. The problem is, I’m a fairly good writer, (even though it hurts to do so). I’m scared to die, but I can’t stand this. Would anyone be willing to lend a counter-argument to it? I know it’s not much, but I can send you a few dollars over PayPal as a thank you if you want.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1igVZfUQq7IbhJDjGhZ9qyEGVGbAbIpyy9or04P1Xd9s/edit?usp=drivesdk
hi everyone, im new on here.
just wondering if anyone knows what is my problem because i feel like theres an issue with me but then again its as if i dont have an issue.
anyways i have no problems making friends, i just can’t keep them. i cant open up to anyone, about how fucking superficial i think literally everyone is, and im just afraid to trust and be vulnerable. but then again sometimes i just open up about everything and anything, people think im an extremely open and cool person. yet i wonder if they truly know me? i feel like a psychopath, and if anyone dies, i wont feel anything. yet on some days i feel so emotional, so easily hurt, so sensitive. it disgusts me.
another thing would be that i think im desperate for love, but also afraid for love.
its such an annoying feeling, that i catch myself having feelings for anyone and im just like “wait the fk up no thats disgusting, youre not in love youre just obsessed with the possibility of being in love”
send help
There’s no easier way to say this – I need help. I don’t care who, what, when, where, why or how, I just care that I get help. I don’t get how everyone can say there is so much help you can get out there when every time I try to seek help, I fail. Is it the universe’s way of telling me that I’m hopeless and can’t be helped or I don’t deserve to be? Because that is how it feels. The amount of times that I have tried to reach out to a professional and been unsuccessful is not okay. It genuinely confuses the fuck out of me but oh well. All this supposed help out there, why is there none for me? Like I used to just want to be able to chat with someone but now I actually seriously need help, need advice and need a professional as my shit has developed. So I’ll say it again, somebody please help me because I sure need it!
All of me is very pathetic: I am not overweight, but am by no means strong, nor do I possess any significant measure of success or unique strength in any certain area. I work, eat- though sometimes I wish that I didn’t-, sleep, and spend the rest of the time just being lonely and writing about people that I see. It’s embarrassingly lame.
I am tired too: I don’t have anyone to just rest with. I watch porn because I’m so fracking lonely; I cry because it’s pathetic; then I pretend it didn’t happen, almost never really confronting it as an issue. I lie about it, ignore it, and dream that I am actually some human battery being used for a machine-run matrix or some other complicated bullshite.
I hate the wind and I despise its gale;
I hate when it strikes the top mast and sail.
I’d much prefer to climb the stairs to heaven’s gate
Than stay on earth, left to men, and man’s fate.
But the ship steers away; it’s breaking off due south,
Bound for a bitter land; heading for trade of mouth.
In this light, I cannot see; under the sun, I am blind.
I hope, I pray, I dream, that in this land, you are what I find.
Feeling like I’m going insane.
Everyone’s delusional.
And I gotta play this game.
Alone and nobody gives a damn.
She said she’s my best friend but what?
Nobody hits up my phone up.
Everybody say they have depression and they’re all alone but it’s all just a facade. Like it’s trendy now to wear it as a badge of honor. When in fact you’re charged guilty pleading your honor.
Fk why I gotta bottle
Everything up inside
Gambling with my life like a lotto.
It’s past midnight.
Gotta sleep.
Dreams of waking up to a better life, resting in peace.
Why has it gotten to this point? I have waited so long but the last one is broken.
The last one has spoken words to me that verify my twisted thoughts.
My presence causes pain and suffering. It has caused this one even more than it has myself.
Why has it gotten to this point?
Is it my fault? I believe it is, but the voice within says it could be my doing and that of my existence as well.
I wish I could bring good news, I truly do, but I hold only sorrow.
Perhaps one day there will be good news.
I have not hoped for this to occur but it can’t be help. What can I do to change this? Nothing? Really?
One day, I say to myself, one day it will all be over.
One day I shall close my eyes in death and it will all be over.
I shall shut my eyes and I shall feed the earth.
Flowers and trees shall grow from my ashes.
That day, I shall finally be doing good to the earth.
This I promise you.
Do not worry for me but know this, in you I see hope and much more to give to the world.
Carry on, life may not be fair but you can survive. You have definitely survived this much
It’s 5am where I am and I’m embarking on another night of staying up late, alone.
I really need to fix my sleeping schedule but no matter how early I try to go to bed, my thoughts keep me awake.
When I do actually succeed in being in bed asleep by 2am, I still sleep until past 3pm anyway because I just can’t get out of bed. I wake up a few times but then feel a crushing weight of “I can’t do this” and I go back to bed. I swear I only wake up to pee or else I’d never get up.
Does anyone have any advice on motivating yourself to get out of bed?
Because I sleep all day, I never eat and my body feels so limp and lethargic all the time, I don’t wanna do anything… I feel slightly less suicidal than I did two days ago, but the dread always creeps up on me when I least expect it.
Lets see…
…where to start
. . .
I just found this site while looking up “how to slowly die”, “how long can an overdose take affect”, and “how to make suicide look like an accident”…
That’s a great way to start off a story.
If I seem sarcastic, joking, or offensive in any way, sorry. I’m not trying to be. I’m just not sure how to act like myself anymore. Not in this state I’m in… Then again, there might be some or most people like that on here. I’m not sure… I don’t really make jokes about these thing but I just now do them because I suddenly don’t care any more.
Why don’t I care?
Why am I here?
Why do I think these things?
Since for what I know, I can express my emotions better on paper than verbally doing it. I do like writing. Even made a buch of fictional stories in the past. But now… not so much… So I guess this can help me vent out my feelings without someone confronting me and let them worry about “my well-being”. It’s ironic since I’d rather worry about others than let them worry about me. Now that this is my little introduction to this (hopefully not regretting) website…
Hi there…
Hello guys! I haven’t used this website in 2 years and seeing my older posts are quite a strange experience. I came here in 2014 because isolation and depression pushed me to the edge, rock bottom, or whatever. Started feeling depressed 10 years ago! It’s my Sadniversary and I thew up my birthday cake. My birthday was wednesday and I had a violent indigestion, because why the hell not. Well this feeling persists, yet again. The reason I’m here today is because even if I do feel this pain, this need to die, this very heavy weight of self shame and being worthless, it is not the same as it used to be. I wish my story could light some hope for all of you who will read this. Because sometimes things do get better, and when depression comes back, and it does, you don’t feel as hopeless as before.
During 2015 I had the incredible chance to find an app that connected me on the phone with a Listener who had a minimum of experience in psychology. I fucking hated the thought of a helpline and honestly believed I would never do that. Life events made it such that I ended up having multiple panick attacks and I found out that talking to someone was very helpful. The service was free and I became known over there by the staff as I would call very randomly and increasingly often so I knew everybody. I always thought phone lines were so cold and empty, I would think ” the only reason you talk to me like you care is because that’s what you’re paid for” ( they weren’t volunteers). But I went for it! At first I had to go through a lot of awkward first talks but time passed and the more I got the same person frequently the more we could connect. I would have never ever expected them to share their personal stories with me the way they did and without me asking for it. They felt simply comfortable, it was like a dream to even think it could happen. I braved my social anxiety, my phobia of phone calls and to speak english outloud (Not my first langage). Plus, we couldn’t juge eachother based on anything superficial, only words. I slowly got to build very real , deep and bonding relationships with people who totally didn’t have to, but wanted to. They were so genuinely interested in my story that they saved my life. It took me a whole year of calling sometimes 3 times a day or skip a few days. A whole year to break this certitude that I was unlovable. That I was a pain to be around, that I wasn’t interesting. But I realised that in the past I was mainly surrounded by toxic parents, a toxic narcissist “best friend” who would belittle me as much as possible and other kids my age. I felt like an outcast because I was very observant and analytic so I understood many things people were unaware of. I was too mature for people my age, but too young to be taken seriously by adults. But this time, it wasn’t a case of superiority, of prouving one’s self. I layed out who I was in all sincerity, I wasn’t looking to hide my imperfection or make them like me. Because this is what I used to do constantly trying to change me to fit what people wanted so I felt included. But for once in my life time my difference was celebrated by people I really admired. Unfortunately the free service was unsustainable and they had to shut down. The thing is that they are strictly forbidden for legal reasons to keep in touch with me. So all at once I had to lose about 10 people that were the most significant people I have ever encountered. One of them, Paul, has been a mentor, a guide, and a friend to me. He touched me in a way I can’t explain with his own life and struggle that he gave me the strenght to try and get better. and I slowly gained back some mental energy to be able to face the unbearable and look at who I was, stripped from all mental blockage and just see the perfect imperfection we all are. I recorded our last calls and some were crying, telling me they’ll miss me, or that I have inspired them to make changes in their life as well. To know that I have possitively impacted someone who gave me so much is a though I will cheering forever. Finding them gave me hope, opened my mind to new things and to look out for synchronicities and to live in line with who YOU are. To have the strenght to put my feet down and be able to really believe that I have as much right to be myself than all of you and that if it makes you unhappy because you cannot face your own self, then I decide to not carry your judgment in me. I had never encountered my personnality without depression, and at 20 years old I had to start undoing the wrongs and to let go of pain I held inside of me, that I nurtured so bad because i had nobody. I still find myself in this situation today, but now I have hope. This thing was so unexpected in my life of utter bullshit prior to this and I just wanna say that things like this could happen to you to. Maybe the next thing that will change your life is right around the corner but you can’t look at past experiences to determine the hopes of something to happen. The futur doesn’t work like that. I overcame my shadow and now I have to continue to work had to not let my mind slip. I have eternal grattitude for this. And none of this would have happened if I stuck to my belief that helplines were useless. Try things that make you do something new that you are afraid and vulnerable. Do it anyway. This will help you so much to get out of patterns.
I wish you all the best. You are a being who is equally important however you feel
I’m scared.
I feel like im sinking. I tried to talk about it with a friend. I want to. But i just couldn’t. I couldn’t explain what i was going through. I couldn’t express it. It’s too much. And i… I felt worse. Now, everything seems too much to handle. Everything’s heavy. And i’m scared. I’m scared because i realized, i’ve been through this same feeling last 2015. And i promised myself i won’t go back to this state because there’s no reason to go back and i don’t think i can handle it. So i’m scared. Very scared. I don’t know what to do. All i do is pretend to be okay the whole day and cry myself to sleep. It’s 2015 all over again.
Help.
I just don’t know what to do with myself now. I’ve pretty much completed the biggest part of my bucket list (somewhere I traveled) and now I can’t seem to motivate myself at all. I know what I would want to do in the future, but now it feels like whether I make it to that point or not doesn’t matter at all. I have a wonderful life filled with supportive and kind people who tell me daily how much potential I have, but I have nothing to show for it. Guilt and a vague but almost desperate feeling of “there’s surely something left for you here, this must be where you belong!” is really all that’s keeping me here, but my realizing I can’t keep relying on escapism and unhealthy coping mechanisms forever is chipping away at what hope I have left. My depression has improved greatly from when I was suicidal and undiagnosed, but now my OCD is worsening, progress seems to have stagnated, and emptiness is starting to settle right back in, slowly but surely. I’m terrified of becoming the person I used to be all over again, and talking to my psychologist… telling her that everything’s beginning to fall back? That all the progress that took place is just gone? Call me cowardly, but I can’t bring myself to put either of us through the whole damn cycle again for it to keep repeating. Everything seems to be relapsing at once, but I can’t afford to show it.
I don’t want to be that post that you’re probably sick of reading, about falling into depression and healing from it. Three years. Three years of constant debating on weather i can stand myself or not. Starting to slowly fall back into a constant mind of self loath is so difficult. I’ve put my body and mind through to much shit to start being like this again. Scary thing is i don’t think im going to fight as hard as i did the first time.
I want the pain to go away. All the heart break, sadness, lonely nights, empty pill bottles, & watching the blood drip down my arms & legs after just having an episode. I need my thoughts to stop. I can’t handle it anymore. A few days ago my boyfriend slashed his wrists & took 20 xan bars because I tried to leave him. It was all my fault. I had to go over & clean up all of the blood after he got picked up by the ambulance. There was so much blood… it was all over the walls, the tv, the floor, the sink, etc. my mind is so messed up now I can’t even think right. I thought I was getting better but now it’s worse than it ever has been. I need it to stop. He said he did it because I was trying to leave him so that makes it my fault. I can’t leave him now because he will do it again so now I’m stuck in this unhealthy relationship & I want out. I want out of life.. someone please help.. I’ve been depressed for years.
My suicide note. I’m still working on it. I’m still waiting for help even though I know I’m only fake hoping. I don’t have a purpose anymore. Living is a torture every single day. I set myself a date. I planned everything. I’m pretty hopeless.
Anyways. Here you go, enjoy? I don’t know. Do whatever you want to do with this:
Hey. It’s me. I’m that shitty girl who killed herself because she’s a weak-ass depressed kid who’s only great at complaining and seeking for attention. You probably heard about me now, you’re probably gossiping about it. Anyways, I’m writing this letter because soon enough I’ll be gone. And soon enough drama will come, people will care, blaming themselves for not caring at all. Soon enough, people will question everything, and ask why. Oh wait, not soon enough. I forgot, I’m already dead, has drama started yet? How’s it? Don’t worry okay? This is going to be fun, we’re going to get through this. Word by word. Letter by letter. I’m going to tell you, why I ended my life. You see, I experienced the worst pain. A pain you could never imagine how hurtful it is. Emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. A pain that caused me to say that it’s easier to end my life, than live a life I never wanted, a life that I didn’t choose. The life that made myself… me. What do you expect me to do? How do I react if I never felt like my life is worth living?
So hey, I know some cared. I may hate myself, maybe I’m quite stupid, maybe what they say is indeed true. But I think people actually cared, just not enough. Is that right? Well, forget it. I will never know anyway, well literally because you can’t tell me after, I’m still dead. You see, I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what’s real. Maybe I just wanted someone to actually care and maybe that someone, approach me for once, and say, “Hey, are you going to kill yourself? Please no, please I care. Please don’t do that. I’m not going to leave you until you beat this.” Well, I guess that’s not gonna happen. It’s never gonna happen. In reality, it’s only my words anyway. To be honest though, someone actually said something similar, but they didn’t stay, they didn’t actually cared. They lend me a hand, the next day they thought everything was already fine. There’s no drama, therefore they let me fall. They said they miss me, but never made an effort to contact me, to ask how I’m doing?. I’m always the one who approaches them. They never knew what’s going on with my life, they never knew me at all. Isn’t that right friends? Bullshit. Lies.
People are stupid. I know I am too, but when it comes to reality and not just those shit they teach at school, they’re hopeless. You guys never understood suicide, you never will. Not until you become one like me and end up being a fucked-up, am I right? You think just because I don’t have a big reason to kill myself, just because I don’t have cancer or whatever shitty worse problems other people have, they’re the only ones that has the right to suicide. That only they’re allowed to use a rope, a gun, or a blade to kill themselves. It’s not how it works. Suicide doesn’t work like that. You can’t expect me to have the same tolerance level as yours. I have my own tolerance of pain too. Just because you didn’t felt what I felt, just because you see my pain as a small problem, doesn’t mean you’re stronger than I am?. I see it as something so hurtful. Depression is a silent killer. It doesn’t mean that if you can’t? see or feel it, it isn’t there. No, you can’t call me weak just like you fucking did. Like what you guys fucking did just because I’m scared of the pain. You can’t call yourself strong just because you can live your shitty life and that others like me decided to end theirs too. That I decided to end mine. It makes you a fucking coward. It makes you an asshole. You have no idea how much I tried to fight before I even gave up. You never knew me, you only see me as someone who lost a fight. The same as how you fucking called? me stupid, you guys don’t know how hard I was trying. Instead of helping me you guys decided to call me stupid. Shouted at me. Embarrassed me in front of the class. ‘Teachers’? Yeah right. But hey I can’t blame you though, instead, I’m going to live up with the title stupid. Oh wait, not live up, because I’m dead. I died, I died with the label stupid. They will remember me as a stupid piece of shit, a pain in the ass. Thanks for helping me destroy everything, my confidence, myself. I learned that I really am hopeless, I know that now.
You see (*insert names*). When people are different; More specifically, different from you. You instantly think they’re a disgrace, a thing that you can just throw around not knowing they have feelings too. That when, for example, a girl fucking had sex with someone in her teenage years, they’re already a slut. And if they don’t agree with you, you immediately label them as, assholes and ignorants. The funny thing is though, you guys are one of the most ignorant assholes I’ve ever met. Wake the fuck up, you’re not the basis of normality. People like you don’t deserve to be praised. You are no different from people who actually killed somebody. You won’t get anything from backstabbing, you won’t get anything from bullying others. The moment you judged other people; that moment when you judged me. You killed my soul. You killed my individuality. You killed me. Society killed me. You guys kill suicidal people. You destroyed me just because I was being myself.
I killed myself because nobody made me feel alive. Nobody saved me from dying, you didn’t try hard enough. When you guys are killing me, when I was dying. It just never stops. The worst thing is though, it also gets worse every second. Don’t worry. You guys aren’t alone, the world itself is a fucked up. You guys see me as a happy little shit. I smiled at you, told you how my day ‘went well’. I even tried approach you when you were fucking sad and cheer you up. Some pushed me away but that didn’t stopped me from helping, from being friends with you. You even saw my biggest smile, heard my loudest laugh. I’m quite disappointed to see on how stupid you are. You never saw me behind those. Did you even care? Because I’m a lonely ass person who relied on my fake friends. You don’t even know me, you never asked how I’m doing. You never tried to contact me just to fucking catch up. You miss me? Fuck you. You never knew what was going on with me. You never knew I’m depressed, you were supposed to be there when I needed it. You were supposed to call me because I was suicidal or because I was cutting myself again, because I was fucking attempted so many goddamn times to end my life. Oh, you didn’t know that? I never knew what to do or how to deal with depression. You were supposed to help me but nobody bothered to. Isn’t that what friends are for? Family then? No? Well I know what exactly friends are for. You aren’t friends. I’m so fucking lucky to even find real friends across the world. They’re fucking across the world, countries away from me. But I trust them more than you guys. And I never trusted anyone for so long because you broke my trust. You broke my spirit. Now you care because it’s too late. Now tell me if I’m still your laughingstock. But don’t worry, I don’t give a fucking damn anymore. I tried to understand you, because I know behind your attitude are people in their shitty lives. I tried to understand you guys, if I didn’t, then you probably end up like me. And you have no idea how painful it is.
Sometimes I wonder if really did wasted my life, if I should’ve done this sooner. Because right now, society is a mess. Society is an asshole. Everyone is an ignorant. If you knew that someone is gay, you immediately criticize them, and laugh at them for being themselves. You make the word ‘gay’ feel like it’s an insult. And quote something like they will go to hell because god told them not be gay, because being gay is a sin technically. Nobody seemed to care. If there’s someone with depression asked for help, you see them as just seeking for attention. You will tell them to just get over it, move the fuck on because it’s that easy isn’t it? In the end, if they ended their lives, you now suddenly care, you give ‘sympathy’ towards them because they decided to end the pain. You fucking hypocrites?. You guys care when it’s too late. You only act when it’s over. You’re gonna wait until suicidal people die before you move. And you think this is a phase? You think depression and suicide is phase? Well it’s? not. WAKE. UP. You can’t get over depression. It’s not a shitty ass thing that you can get over with this overwhelming pills that my psychiatrist told me to take. Suicide is real, and you can’t stop it. It always pull you back no matter how hard you try to run. Because you know, it was my problem at first. But unexpectedly, it became my last solution.
I used to enjoy softball. It was hard work, sometimes it was draining, but I actually like. I don’t think I do anymore. Everyone expects something from me. My parents and tournament softball coach think that I can play college and expect so much more than I’m capable of. My high school coach thinks I can’t do anything and doesn’t give me a chance. He expects nothing from me. I can’t deal with all of this. I wish I could go back and start over. I wish I was more athletic. I wish I was more confident in myself. I wish people could see the real me. I wish I didn’t have to feel numb and empty anymore. I can’t feel. I should be stressed out of my mind this week, but I’m not. Because I’m done with this whole thing of living. I keep of telling myself I want to die and commit suicide, but I’m too scared to die. I’m too scared to get help. I’m too scared…
I am here to tell you one thing. Death isn’t my solution, it is my hideaway spot. The place I dream about when things get bad, the place I think about when I want to end things, but cant bring myself to do it. I find it comforting to dream about what could be if I died, but then it begins to scare me, it begins to make me feel alone, and sometimes I don’t know what to do. How to handle life, how to keep going. Im so tired of struggling, so tired of living off of nothing, having to rely on others, I hate it. I use this site as an outlet, helping others, well, it helps me. Why? Because it gives me a purpose, Im not saying I use you guys to make me feel better, I want to help I want to make you guys in a better place. And I will help until my last breath, whenever that may be.
So, if you guys need anything, let me know, I will always be here, I am active on here many hours a day, whenever Im at my girlfriends house anyway to use her computer, but anyway, if you need anything guys, email me at cgreenawalt0420@gmail.com
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