I’m 19 and I’ve had mental health issues all my life. I’m dumb and lazy, I’m not very good in school. Well I used to be, I was home schooled, but it sucked because my mom is kind of a shitty parent and an especially shittier teacher, but I’d teach myself things and read all day never going anywhere. I didn’t really have any friends and the one’s I did got ripped away from me or beat me up or spread lies about me. I only really knew christian people in the hack job of a church we went to. I convinced my mom to let me go to high school to actually be with the “normal” kids and I quickly found out even more what a freak I was (am). Found myself a boyfriend four years older than me because I was stupid and young and wanted someone to be there for me. Obviously he broke up with me since he was going off to college and I got caught with a handful of pills and a glass of water crying in my bed. I never actually did it, but got dragged to to the hospital anyway and got diagnosed with anxiety on top of my “depression”. Speed up to a few years where I’m sort of comfortable, realizing I kind of missed out on things as a kid not really being able to see other kids on a regular basis except the asshole across the street who went to my church and repeatedly gave me black eyes and broke my teeth as his mom laughed about it. God I wish I was confident enough to have fought back. So anyway, I got a new boyfriend after figuring out I’m pansexual and he helped me out of an abusive relationship with a girl. He turned out to be a bigger asshole than her. Really awful relationship, I’m uncomfortable in my sexuality now and gender I’m a fucking mess and I hate myself because of him and I have horrible memories that I’m trying to downplay in my head but I can’t help but stop whatever I’m doing whenever I think of them. So I got fucked from that. Basically I’m just a little cry baby and can’t handle anything thrown at me, I’m just making a bunch of excuses. I tried a few other times to off myself with no success. Ended up either throwing up any pills I swallowed or just plain woke up sick and hallucinating still having to go to school. My grades were ass and I got high all the time senior year but I somehow got a full ride scholarship to the local uni thanks to my pressured-to-get-good-grades freshman self that made my gpa still very good. It seems that I just can’t get over being an oddball social outcast though. I tried to get a job or two and basically got fired from both because I’m too slow and incompetent to be able to do things really fast and keep a happy face all day. I think everything is pointless, why do I have to look happy being there when I want to stab myself in front of every person that bitches at me for not having the right mug in stock as if I control it. And no Karen, there aren’t any in the back or they would be on the shelf. So I’m in school still heavily relying on my parents who I don’t really get along with but enough that I still go to the house and spend time with them, I wasn’t treated badly by them I just don’t like the way they chose to raise me and their religion and won’t accept me, but we just never bring it up so, water I suppose. I don’t have a job, I’m too panicky to get a driver’s license and I’m already on a fine black-box concoction of pills for my new diagnosis of bipolar II and ADD so I don’t want any anxiety meds. Nobody will really talk to be except a few people and even they think I’m kinda weird which is understandable. I’m ugly as fuck and short and I used to be fat but depression took care of that thank god. Right now I’m not really trying in school at all because I’m fucking tired, I’m tired of all this stress and having to come here is expected of me because I got that dumb scholarship. I’m failing classes and my gpa is too low to keep my scholarship. If I fail school that’s it, my parents and family will be furious. I am not going to live with them again. I just don’t think I can even face the disappointment I’ve brought upon myself either. I did want to become an animator after all, or illustrator or whatever. Seems easy to get an art degree but I’m so awful at math. So fucking stupid. It’s lights out pretty soon I’m done. I didn’t even fucking plan to get past 18 I’m not ready for this shit. Everyone treats me like an adult when I feel like I barely got a childhood because the only social skills I got was in high school and I had to socialization of 6 year old. I’m a kid right now. I’m like 17 at most I don’t feel 19 I’m not supposed to be an adult yet. I’m just bitching about this shit man like fuck some people had it way worse than me It’s really funny actually. God, I really need to get myself out of here for other people’s sake, fuckin stupid *****. It’s literally over once I lose that scholarship fuck it maybe it’s over sooner than that. I wanna go for real, I know the next time I try I ain’t messing with pills n shit I’m gonna hang myself. I have one chance because I’m not gonna ever go back to a normal life if I don’t get it right. I hope that I’ll at least be reincarnated into someone who everyone loves, and someone who loves themselves, who’s pretty and hot and tall and skinny and has amazing hair and good teeth and health and talents. Or maybe I’ll go to one of those places I’ve dreamed of. I’ll be a hero to the whole world and everyone will love me. I’ll have a friend and we’ll go adventuring in the mountains together and beat giant creatures that are controlled by evil like in an rpg and save the world. or face off against aliens. or even just live in little cottage by myself eating off my vegetable garden and having a pet cat that will always love me. I don’t know, but I know I can’t stay here.
Does anyone know anything that will send me into a deep sleep? Not those pills that “relax you to ease you into sleep” I want a heavy sedative.
Behaviors: depression; no motivation; unable to be stimulated; hypomania; anxiety; inability to focus.
I’m in a healthy state of mind approximately >1% of the month.
Current medications and past treatments: Geodon, Seroquel, Klonopin, Adderall, Trintellix; received TMS
I’m rapid cycling. If I’m not depressed I find myself to be either slightly hypomanic or fully hypomanic. I phase through having motivation and not having motivation; in either case because of the recurring depression or hypomania I’m unable to pursue stimulating and impassioned ideas or activities that I know from the core of my being would make me a happy and mentally healthy person.
My teenage and young-adult life were filled with passions for literature, film, music performance, and the pursuit of knowledge. I’d spent innumerable hours, literally all of my waking hours, reading, performing music, delving into films, and pursuing knowledge because I found all those activities to be greatly stimulating. Starting around the age of 25(plus/minus a year) when my disease became fully formed, the desire and more so the exigent need to feel that passion and stimulation was still there — I believe(I hope) — but it was and still is sunken deep beneath a storming sea. My ostensible-insidiously fluctuating states of anxiety, depression, borderline hypomania and even full on hypomania, and this alien lack of motivation and inability to focus precludes me from attaining any kind of stimulation and therefore goals that I desperately require. I was once upon a time driven, motivated, ambitious, a seeker, a dreamer, an affable quasi-optimist; but now I find myself overwhelmed by my disease and I can’t overcome it. I’ve tried many varieties of medications and combinations of medications, which on the rare occasion alleviate my symptoms, but soon my symptom-free state of being becomes ephemera and I’m wickedly thrown back into a severe and long lasting depression.
I gravely need to experience stimulation and motivation sans the symptoms birthed by my disease, but I just can’t find them. It’s as though I’ve mentally transmogrified into a person that is not me — an empty shell.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m not suicidal or experiencing suicidal ideation, but I can’t bear this burden anymore. It seems I’m treatment-resistant in regards to medication. I think ECT is my only hope…but what if it doesn’t work?
I am a 14 year old teenager, depressed and suicidal. I know this may sound stupid but does anyone know any pills that will make me pass out if I overdose? I am not exactly trying to kill myself, just a way of revealing my pain to my parent without having to actually talk to them, but let’s just say I wouldn’t care if I died overdosing.
I know I will receive lots of “don’t do this” “you don’t deserve life” and “you’re worth it” but I don’t believe any of that. I hate my life and myself so much, I don’t think anything or anyone can change this. So please, spare me the sweet comments about how everything will get better and I should stay strong because I can’t, I am a weak person who cannot handle anything anymore.
I’m just wondering if anyone has ever had any success in getting this , via mail or over the border etc. if this post isn’t allowed you can delete it , but I want to go out a foolproof way , I don’t want to end up a vegetable or a dribbling mess. If I can’t even kill myself properly , even that is more depressing than the life I have now.
lately, i am scared of myself. terrified of the idea that i’m not even sure anymore what or who i am. Â i find myself looking at my hands, my arms, my wrists and i feel like this is not me. that somehow, the “me” got lost in all of this. and i look back at pictures of myself as a kid, and i cannot connect with the person i am meant to be. not even in the pictures of my childhood i am smiling. i honestly don’t believe i ever experienced the feeling of “happiness” . sometimes i have no emotion at all, but there are still moments where i cry, i cry so hard i almost choke. where i sit on the floor for an hour, almost paralyzed, begging that somehow i would just disappear. without a trace. there is nothing good to come and there is no help for me, so i know there is just one way out.Â there is no doubt that i want to die, but it somehow never happens. i gave up on tricking myself that things get better, because for some of us, things never change. and you can try to stay alive for 1 or 5 more days and you look back and you think “i still feel the same”. there is no magical medicine for this. i feel different than everyone else i see on the street, even “they” know i am different. so what am i meant to do, take a pill, go into hospital every 4 months for the rest of my life and live in a zombie like state just to please other people? some of you think that “being loved” will help. i never feel lonely, i actually prefer to be alone because i despise humans. and i cannot even stand myself. i just wantÂ my head to stop hurting.
I was watching T.V and a commercial for anti-depressants came on…..It said how it could help you…blah, blah, blah but then something made me think; the blatant irony ….” side affects may include nausea, vomiting or the increase of suicidal thoughts in children, young adults and adults”….Sooo this medicine has a risk to make people more suicidal than they are now….. but its supposed to work against depression? Its not guaranteed to work but it has a risk to fuck you up in the head even more? On what planet does this make sense? Hell, they might as well give you a gun with a single bullet and play Russian roulette
As of right now, I’m at the bottom of the pit. If you look at my charts, I should be doing okay. But I feel so utterly depressed. I haven’t smoked weed or cigarettes in a month, and I’m not abusing my medicine. I’m also seeing a therapist and have hung out with my friends more often. Well, my clean friends that is.
Of course there’s a dark side though. I started drinking again. It’s not a lot, but I know it’s not good for me. Honestly though, if I don’t have a piece of the old me, I fear I’ll go insane. The thing is, instead of lowering me off of my drugs and alcohol, they just took me off them completely. I compare it to being pushed into a deep pool of water that’s -30 degrees. Well, I’m not sure about that comparison, but I’ll leave it. I know most people gradually stop their addictions, but because of a health issue, I needed to stop as soon as possible. I haven’t really used anything for the past weeks, and it’s not fun.
Okay I did lie a bit. I smoked one cigarette last week. I know that could ruin all the hard work I’ve put into stopping, but I am doing better. I’ve gotten my health up a bit, and overall I’m pretty stable. I’ve always got a person with me, making sure I don’t slip up.Â I still feel down in the dumps though.
I’m gonna go all cliche on you. DONT FUCKING DO DRUGS. Instead of running to them when you face a crisis like I did, just see a counselor or something. Because all the speeches they give you in school about drugs actually contain good advice. Especially about cigarettes. I haven’t smoked them very long, only about three months, but just don’t do it. Take my word, drugs suck. If your life is already fucked up, they make them worse. Instead of mourning in your own home, you get to mourn in jail.
Alright, I’m done being your mother. Sorry.
Anyways, quitting everything is going to help me in the long run but I’ve already done a lot of damage,Â So can someone just kill me already?
I’m sorry if none if this post makes any sense. It’s like two in the morning here and I can’t sleep.
Just now. It was over something really stupid, a game with my younger sisters. I was pretending to be asleep, they were trying to wake me up. Dad asked if we wanted to go to the pool. I didn’t, so I kept pretending. They mocked me, called me rude, and said they knew I would move from that position as soon as they left. Harmless kid stuff, really. But as soon as they left, I just started crying. I knew I was going to lose and I just didn’t want to lose. I looked for ways to ‘get revenge’ I found none. I took a pillow, a suitcase, put them both on my face, laid on the floor, and tried to suffocate myself. It didn’t work, I was crying a lot. There was a belt on the floor, I tied it around my neck and pulled. I wrapped it around and shut it in the door. I leaned forward to choke myself. I was crying, I didn’t want to do it by I had to. I knew there were ways that would work. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was screaming that I didn’t want to. I took a glass to the bathroom, and I think if we had anything other than liquid medicine I would be dead. I just have no idea what happened or why or if I even wanted to die. And of course I’m still going to lose.
I had never heard of this sight until tonight. I saw a friend post about it on Facebook & instantly thought that it was a sign.
Let me just begin with a little bit about me. I am 18, I live in a town I hate, & I hate most people. I’ve never really blogged, but I’ve always wanted to. It really helps me to write & I need to have a way to calm myself down. I really don’t know how to explain myself because I don’t really know who I am anymore. I don’t want to hear that I’m too young & that I need to get over the “little” problems because I have been through more than an 18 year old should. In my posts I plan on telling you events that have happened to me in my life up until this point.
A reason I believe this was a sign is because lately I have been suffering some hardcore Anxiety, something that is quite recently new in my life. With this I am Bipolar & Manic Depressant, I get really low sometimes, I think that I always have a terminal illness or something that is going to kill me at a young age, & I freak out easily. I take a certain medicine for all of this combined, but due to turning 18 I lost my insurance & cannot afford the $390 price for it. So I officially have nothing keeping me stabilized at this point in my life. Since being off my medicine I have been going through a symptom that is associated with Anxiety & that is: Depersonalization. It’s where you can’t really comprehend real life, you are unable to perceive that you are you, these are your body parts. Reality is a dream & you’re truly not there. For example, I Look at my hands… they’re not my hands. Same with my legs. I literally feel like nothing but a pair of eyes. I don’t know any other way to explain it. It scares me to the point of panic. I have been so depressed lately & I’m being told by those close to me that it’s all made up for the pharmaceutical industry to get money. .this itself also brings me down.
I have never really truly thought about actually taking my life, just things like, “How would everyone feel? My family, friends, boyfriend, & even enemies.” Death is obviously something that scares me, but why did it suddenly hit me tonight that I have the power to end this, my life. I have the power to not feel this sadness, fear & pure hatred for who I am & everything wrong with me. I hate having to deal with this everyday, but I could never end my life. I just hate that I have to live this way. I HATE THIS FEAR. I get so moody & lash out on the ones I love, especially my parents & boyfriend. I know I am pushing them away & I don’t want that. I need ways to keep myself from this. I need something to get my life back on order. Being that I just graduated I don’t have school to look forward to anymore & I just get to sit at home most of the time. The worst thing about lashing out, I know I shouldn’t.. but, I can’t stop it. I try not use what I suffer from as a crutch, but I know that’s what it is. Something has GOT to give at some point. I’m too afraid to go to the doctors, I hate them. I just don’t know anymore.
This is all I really have at this point. So, the rest is going to follow. Here’s my story…
Last week I found this website and thought it might help to get all my feelings out because I kind of hold them back. Actually I hold them back a lot. For some reason I started to not sleep again and I know when I don’t get sleep things get bad. But they haven’t gotten this bad since my suicide attempt last year. I don’t know what I was doing but two days ago I just started taking some pills I had. My boyfriend could tell something was wrong and said he was coming over by the time he had gotten here I had taken 11. I knew I wasn’t going to die so I don’t know why I took them. And then I just felt awful about the whole thing. About making my boyfriend go through this with me. His face when I told him I took them just made me feel like the worst piece of shit. I just don’t understand why I took them. The first time I overdosed, yes I was trying to commit suicide. But this time… I knew I wasn’t going to die. I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I’m not sure what I was trying to do at all… And now I’m worried that they are going to give me more medicine, like anti-anxiety and I don’t want to have any more pills around my house than I already do. Because obviously even when I’m not trying to kill myself I still take them. I don’t really know what to do anymore. I’m at a loss.
I’m gonna put a hole in my T.V. set
I don’t wanna grow up
Open up the medicine chest
I don’t wanna grow up
I’d rather stay here in my room
Nothin’ out there but sad and gloom
I don’t wanna live in a big old tomb on grand street
When I see the 5 o’clock news
I don’t wanna grow up
Comb their hair and shine their shoes
I don’t wanna grow up
Stay around in my old hometown
I don’t wanna put no money down
I don’t wanna get a big old loan
Work them fingers to the bone
I dont know why, but i want to kill all the people around me.
Even my family, i love them but, i really want to kill them.
I dont know whats happening whit me, am i crazy?
I feel empty. More death that alive.
I cant feel anything. I not even smile or cry. I feel cold. Empty.
I have try anything. Doctors, medicine, therapy… nothing helps.
I just feel all this fucking needs of blood and death.
Can somebody help me? Please!?
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.
This is my first time posting on here, and I would like to read some first hand accounts of hospitalization after a suicide attempt, or being hospitalized for threatening to do so. I would like to know whether you feel it helped you or made you feel worse. Were you diagnosed with a mental illness and do you still want to kill yourself?
Bought components for helium bag online last fallÂ (live in a small town so it was easier to find online). I suppose I was acting a little too disconnected from others and my boyfriend caught on before I could summon the courage to go through with it. He gave me the option of packing my things and going in voluntarily to a state psychiatric hospital – so I did. Had to go to the emergency room and be admitted that way. Had to be stripped down naked and searched and not given any clothes for a day (had a hospital gown – and as a girl with no bra or underwear, it was terrible). It happened to be during Thanksgiving holiday and they were understaffed. The nurses tried to give me medicine before I was seen by a doctor, the male nurses were inappropriate towards me, unprofessional staff and so on. There was hardly an therapy period. They kept me there for over a week and were fascinated in the helium method and the nurses would ask me about it constantly. It was horrible, and honestly, IÂ have more severe suicide ideationÂ now than ever. Just curious if anybody else has had a similar experience.
First things first here in the UK its exam season.
So my friend had anÂ exam today: Biology and considering he wants to study medicine – well psychology,Â it was really important for him to do well. I asked him yesterday if he felt prepared for it and he said he “barely knew any of the content” – but he always says that and goes on toÂ get 90% on his papers and so I pushedÂ the commentÂ aside.
After his exam today I asked him how he thought it went and he said “SHIT”. Again its something he always says when he finishes exams and so I began to push it aside but then I realised that when I received his message I sent one back – that was about 4hrs ago and I haven’t gotten a response. I personally am unable to believe that it has gone as badly as he makes out it did.
However I do know that he is in a very bad place and that something like this could be what it takes, to knock him over I mean – the possibilityÂ that he has failed.
Ignoring me – he’s done it before and then when I asked about it he said he had done it for my own good, out of kindness so that when he left this world, I wouldn’t be as emotionally attached. Every time I receive silence I’m absolutely terrified that heÂ is planning to “disappear” and that, ‘that’s that’.
In movies whenÂ a characterÂ is in a bad place,Â one of the supporting actors will almost always just randomly turn up at their house to check on them, formulating some crap story as to why they are there, so it doesn’t look as though they are snooping. I would love to do that, turn up at his house and just sit with him, at least that way I would know for sure that for a couple of hours he wasn’t cutting or crying. That somebody who cared was there.
I am a very passive person, butÂ I know that when people ask me questions about how I’m feeling and I know there is an ulterior motive, I feel claustrophobic, I go silent and I don’t talk. Ultimately I just get angry.
I know for a fact that if he took it badly he would freak out.
He doesn’t really like to acknowledge the fact that people do care. He doesn’t understand why they do and takes it badly – people wasting their time on a hopeless case; they could focus their time on somebody with a possible cure, if he wasn’t around – or so he thinks.
It breaks my heart, that all the things I know would create a glint of light, are those he just wont do because he is a smart guy – too smart for his own good in fact: if he suspects I am trying to save him from himself he wont engage.
There’s another thing.
I wish there was a way to stop the nightmares. He hasn’t slept a full night in over a year because he is just so scared – of what I have no idea. Maybe its the dark. Or the possibility of failure. Or an overactive mind (he is scared of his mind – the dark corners and what hides in them). Then again maybe its the fear of what the next day will hold, what it will bring with it. I guess in a way “fear of the next day” holds all of those elements – failure, the mind, the dark. But sometimes I wonder if its not so much the fear of failure as the fear of actually succeeding.
You know when he told me about the nightmares I actually thought about buying a “Dream-Catcher” for him?
I was going to drop itÂ off on his front porchÂ and if he asked any questions I would tell him that it would serve as a symbol of his ability to overcome the bad. Its silly I know, but that’s just how desperate I have become. Clutching at short straws has become my life – looking for solutions a job.
He started writing morbid death poetry this week…
We barely talk in words anymore instead we talk in lyrics or rather songs: He said listen to “Now and Then” by We are the Ocean and it made me sob. I told him to listen to “Song for a Friend” and “Who’s thinking about you now”Â by Jason Mraz and got no response – which believe it or not means something. Some how the songs speak better than we ever could…
A couple of weeks he presented me with a gem of knowledge, a life saver, a light. He said he had always imagined himself with children, he had always thought that he was going to be a father and pictured himself with a son. That comment alone gave me more hope than anyone can ever imagine…
For the past few months I have read the posts and posted myself on this site. Â Every day is the same for me. Â I think suicidally but then I’ve made it 40 years and have family thats suffering around me and I want to help but the suicidal thoughts persist. Â But than after a few months I get lucky and score myself a 20 bag of weed. Â I smoke a little and suddenly everything changes. Â I feel even deeper sadness for those that I love that are suffering but I feel like I can deal with the loneliness of not ever really having a partner, of not having had a date in 10 years of not Â having a job or money, of feeling like a loser. Â A lot of those types of things fade into the background of my mind. Â I feel a survival mode kick in. Â I realize that wow I’m alive, what a miracle and I enjoy my little high. Â Of course in a few days I will be back to broke and weedless but I know that the possibility is out there that some day I might strike green again, so until then I’m going to continue to read everyones posts and continue to tell all the teens (and everyone else) I see writing on this to hang in there. Â There are a lot of us suffering but we can help each other through these words. Oh and get out and vote to de-criminalize the best medicine big ****** doesnt want you to have.
Those with chronic health conditions driving you to suicide. What’s your disease? Psychiatric diagnoses counts.
Me: Â Chronic mercury toxicity not helped by modern medicine because they don’t recognize chronic mercury poisoning as a serious disease.
Today has been better than yesterday was for her. No yelling, no fighting, no hurtful words were propelled at her.
Last night was rough on her. She had to meet her regulars, some nice, some not so much. There was always those men who were very aggressive and since they were paying they felt entitled to anything they wanted. The girl would stop arguing after the first hit, she would stop resisting and let herself float into subspace waiting till it was over. The girl would awaken withÂ noticeably blackÂ bruises up and down her arms, her neck, and down her legs.
She is afraid to go home, she is afraid what is waiting for her there. She wants to leave from school and run away. The only thing stopping her? Julia. Her younger sister. Julia is handicapped with Spina Bifida and is only 11 years old. Julia is her entire world and the only reason why she is still living. She has mothered Julia since she was born, giving her bottles and her medicine, holding her throughout every seizure, taking her to surgeries, being there for her night and day. She is the only ray of sunshine in the girls dark world.
God sent Julia to the girl for a reason. Julia is why the girl has not given up. Julia is the girls Guardian Angel.