Who else here, has had so many mental disorders since childhood, that you never really developed an actual personality? You don’t have one, because you never even had a chance at one. Having just a a strange slew of symptoms. Personality? you don’t have one only having a strange slew of never ending symptoms that make your head spin and turn. They say healing things like depression that the goal is to “get back to your old self”, but I don’t have anything to go back to. Just static nothingness.
I have had misophonia for over 30 years and psoriasis for nearly as long despite being prescribed immunosuppressants. As a result of arguments with a family member I have attempted to commit suicide twice by overdosing prescription drugs (beta-blockers and sleeping pills which shall remain nameless). On the second attempt late last year I was found by a doctor and taken to hospital where I narrowly avoided being sent to psychiatric hospital. Waking up in a hospital in a Fentanyl induced daze is a peculiar experience, especially being read the riot act for trying to take out my cannula.
As my misophonia and psoriasis are incurable and will probably get worse with age I am in a constant state of despair. I am especially close to my mum but she is very ill and probably won’t realise that I’ve gone. I look like a burns patient due to my psoriasis so meeting ‘Ms Right’ will never happen. My imminent passing won’t financially affect anyone and direct funerals don’t cost much. Recently I stockpiled pills again and plan to avoid the mistake of the last attempt which was being found in a public place. I’ve tried buying the type of pills used by Dignitas but haven’t got enough money to be scammed.
I feel like human dross and keep being reminded that life has passed me by. Misophonia seriously affected my ability to study and all I’ve got for a 5 year stretch at two universities is a graduate degree and a post-graduate diploma which undersell me. Is it normal to feel like this? I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, can’t sleep, can’t get a job and truly can’t see any point in continuing.
Apologies in advance for seeming negative, but I’m just being truthful about my reality.
Some people don’t believe in mental illness or think that it’s not a big deal. Those of us who struggle with them understand how untrue this is. Until you’ve gone through an illness with no cure, you can’t possibly understand how taxing it is. Some people take offense to this argument, but they are the lucky ones. Every person has their weights to bear, but some weights have a time limit. Mental illness does not.
Until my first hospitalization in a mental ward, I didn’t realize how real mental illness is. I thought I cut myself and starved myself because I was lonely. Now I look back over my experiences before my suicide attempt and realize how my whole life has been tainted with mental illness.
Allow me to back up a little bit. I’m making this post in the hopes that my story will help even one person to see that it’s worth it to stick around. And no, I’m not recovered. But I’m not dead either. No one seems to address that middle part of recovery. They address the rock bottom and the recovered but not those fighting each and every day to face the world.
I read an article once about the inner battle between anxiety and depression that happens each morning when they awake, and I think most of us can relate to that. Neurotypicals could never understand that each day is a battle. We win some, we lose some. But we WILL win the war.
Many believe that mental illness is a choice. “Have you tried yoga?” “Have you ever just like not been sad?” I’ve had both those things said to me, and I’m sure you have your own ignorant things that have been said to you. I’ve often said things like “Do you think I want to live like this? Do you think I like being in a mental hospital with no outside contact?”. Now I realize that people who question the reality of mental illness are truly just under-educated. Our educational system in America has truly failed in this aspect. There needs to be far more education on mental illness and some sort of sensitivity training.
The other half of neurotypicals tend to romanticize mental illness. There are whole social media pages dedicated to “thinspiration” or the “beauty of cutting”. Our pain is not another’s glory.
The question here is not whether or not we are the toughest and strongest people out there. ( because we definitely are (; ) The question is: What can we do? Clearly we need to inform neurotypicals of how their actions effect us and how they can help us instead of hurt us. I don’t think they mean to hurt us. They are misinformed. I think we need to speak out and make our community known. We are STRONG. We are LOUD. And we are WARRIORS. Most of all, we are STILL ALIVE. Don’t we need to fight for those who aren’t with us anymore? Don’t we need to show everyone that we are here and that we are ready to fight until we receive what we need? Most are so shy about mental illness. We need to break the stigma on mental illness and suicide. Even the word “suicide” makes people uncomfortable. We need to normalize it. Use social media and your voice for the greater. Do whatever you can to overcome what is holding you back from speaking out. I know that we can do it, because we’ve already come so far.
If you have any feedback, questions, or just need a friend, please leave it for me here. I would love to hear others’ stories and ideas. If you have another idea on how we can educate and normalize, tell me. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure we are heard. Remember that we are warriors, and stay safe.
[contact-form to=’email@example.com’ subject=’FEEDBACK’][contact-field label=’Name or Identifier’ type=’name’ required=’1’/][contact-field label=’Email’ type=’email’ required=’1’/][contact-field label=’Comment’ type=’textarea’ required=’1’/][/contact-form]
Hi, this is my first time posting. I am up late at night because I am having trouble sleeping. The night before last I attempted to hang myself but it failed. It was more of a test run then a full blown attempt. Not finding success, in the morning, I bought charcoal and a grill to try that method. I assembled the grill, placed it in my car and that is as far as I got. In the end, I am not ready to kill myself, but all the pain and regrets of my past feel like they are killing me slowly and painfully.
I am 37 and two months ago I had a mental breakdown/mid life crisis. I was hit by the worse case of depression I have ever felt in my life, tinnitus became maddening loud (I have severe hearing loss), insomnia, plus memory and cognitive thinking problems. All of this came on so suddenly and severe without any cause for explanation that I immediately contacted my doctor. The days from the start of the breakdown and up to my doctor’s appointment I was very suicidal and researched the web for answers, which is how I first found this site. My doctor prescribed me Quetiapine to help me sleep and I have been seeing a therapist since. For two months I have been in a never ending battle to try and fight to get better and not give in to suicide.
Because of the breakdown flood gates have been opened drowning me in all my past mistakes and regrets I never dealt with in a healthy manner. I discovered I had buried all these problems with years of addiction, drugs, porn, caffeine, video games and TV being the big ones. Just before the breakdown, I quite all of my addictions because I was trying to get healthy and make big changes for a positive future. This has been a long process starting when I was 28 and the last time I used drugs, ecstasy.
Since I was 28 I made incredible progress to change my life for the better and move past the destructive behavior I had been living since I was 14. Now at 37, I feel like all my hard work has come undone. Events and regrets from my past that I thought I had moved past have come back and hit me harder than ever. So much pain and suffering from my past that I have spent months with my therapist and others talking about and dealing with. Repressed memories and feelings have come out, it is like a brigade of skeletons came marching out from the closet looking for blood.
A constant reminder of my mistakes earlier in life is significant hearing loss and loud tinnitus and memory, cognitive thinking, depersonalization caused by some combination of drug abuse and concussions from accidents. Because of these problems, I don’t see myself achieving the goals I set a few years ago. Now I lay awake thinking about events from my past that sent me down the dark rabbit hole of destructive behaior with deep regret and all the different ways they could have gone differently. As hard as I try I can’t forgive myself, accept that they happened, put them behind me and move on. At every turn something happens that reminds me of my past mistakes. Since my breakdown, I am unable to enjoy watching TV, movies, playing video games, or reading a book, all activities that use distract me from thinking about the past. I fear I may never get better and have no hope or optimism about the future. Because of this, I have been wishing I’d die in my sleep or that I have an undiagnosed terminal illness. The thought of living the rest of my life with these health and mental problems is unbearable.
I get feeling like life is so bad it isn’t worth living. I started feeling this way as a teenager. I was too chicken to commit suicide back then. Didn’t even make a failed suicide attempt. I told a few people I was thinking about suicide, but it was dismissed and fell upon deaf ears. As a teenager this was a cry for help that I never got and I didn’t know how to ask for help directly. So I started down a path of destructive behavior and life choices because I was angry and hated myself for things I had done. I felt helpless and alone for most of my life. So I told myself I’d die before I was 30 and started a life of drug abuse, street racing, rock climbing without safety gear, anything that had a chance of death. I never thought about the long term consequences of these actions because I never considered I’d have a future. I also never worried about having a college education, career, relationship, family, all things I now want but can’t see myself achieving because of the damage I did to myself.
I lay here typing this trying to find a way to accept my past mistakes. I’m seeing doctors in hopes there is something that can alleviate or reduce my pain and suffering. The future seems impossible for me to face. I wanted to end my life so many times growing up. I only now realized how hard that is to do and that there is a part of me that wants to fight to live. A tiny little fleck of light floats in front of me, hoping that it isn’t to late for me to get past all the years of pain and live a happy loving life, three words that haven’t existed in my world for twenty five years.
Thank you for reading the synopsis of my life. I’m standing on the edge, split between life or death, looking for a sign. This is a terrible and torturous way to live. People in my life keep telling to hold on, that healing and answers take time. I’m trying to keep going, living one day at a time. All I’m looking for is support and friendship. I appreciate the opportunity to get this out, also to join and share with this community.
I was born with an anxiety disorder as well as some minor facial deformities and cognitive deficits that affect my ability to socialize and have been struggling with all these things along with major depression and body dysmorphia for much of my life (am 21 btw). I have nothing in life, no friends, just dropped out of college, can’t hold a job, and very little family. I actually just met my father for the first time this past year and was hopeful that that could blossom into a positive relationship. But while I recently was in his city for unrelated reasons I offered to meet up with him and hang out for a day, to which he refused. That incident basically put the nail in the coffin in terms of that relationship for me, kinda wish I never met him. This combination of mental illness and loneliness has made me extremely suicidal, it’s all I think about these days. I attempted suicide for the first time a couple months ago and since then have been hospitalized three times.
I now have what I believe is a full proof suicide plan and will go through with it very soon, maybe within the month. I am at peace with my decision and am looking forward to it, but what saddens me is that my mom knows that I probably won’t be here much longer. She is your typical helicopter parent and has been in control of almost everything throughout my life (which I believe added to my list of psychological issues). She realizes there is nothing she can do to stop this, she can’t have a meeting with my brain and threaten to sue or have it fired if it doesn’t change things like she’s done in past situations. She has had people from church come to talk and pray over me and hooked me up with different psychiatrists and therapists that she’s found. All I can do is humor her and act like the prayer, medications, and therapy sessions are working. It hurts me seeing her like this but I know if I continue to live I will only be a drain on her emotionally and financially for the rest of her life. In a weird way suicide brings me a sense of comfort because I know in the long run, me staying alive will ultimately cause her more pain and stress than my death will.
So to get started let me just say this i am clinically insane I’ve been diagnosed with multi-personality disorder i’m bipolar schizophrenic i show a lack of or no empathy all together i also suffer from ptsd. and to put that in perspective im 18. also sorry about grammar and capitalization but im in a rush. to make a long story short its hard to know me and its even harder to pretend you do so don’t bother trying. also the family card doesn’t work they’re part of the reason im like this. im killing myself because of three reasons 1 im board 2 life is fucking bullshit 3 think about it this way you wake up and fight to survive just to wake up and do it again. its a viscous cycle that i wont no part in so im killing myself via pure caffeine powder
I dream of a better world then what we live in. One where people can be who they are. One where society doesn’t tell me I have to be skinny to be pretty, have to be mean to make friends. A world where people don’t have depression or feel suicidal or any other mental disorder because the worlds so perfect that its sickening. I want to be able to walk outside and not get robbed or go to school and not get shot. But I know that will never happen because it just my… DREAM
Hey Suicide Project!
I’m new to the site and I’m kind of hoping that keeping a blog will be a good outlet for me. I’m Elizabeth and I suffer from a mental disorder known as Dissociative Identity Disorder or (DID). What does this mean? Well formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder or (MPD); DID is a mental disorder on the dissociative spectrum characterized by at least two distinct and relatively enduring identities or dissociated personality states that alternately control a person’s behavior. But, what does this mean for me? This means that I “host” several other alternate personalities. I refer to myself as the host because although there are several of us, I was born into this body. When alters come in I lose mass amounts of time, I wake up in strange places, I get random charges on my credit cards and worst of all I don’t know what I’ve done. It’s pretty scary and until now I didn’t think I’d ever find love or happiness, but I’ve just recently met a man who like me suffers from DID. He however is integrated and doesn’t fade in and out as I often do. He claims to love and support me and he hasn’t ever done anything to make me believe otherwise but I just find it so hard to believe that anyone could love someone as unstable as me. I suppose that as far as introductions go, this is fine. If you’re at all interested in what I had to say here today, then perhaps you’ll stay interested and continue reading. My alters and I share a journal where often they write to let me know what they did and experienced while in control of the body. I plan on sharing future journal entries and blogging as each of my alters, if they’re willing to perticipate and if the public responds well to my posts. Well, thats all for now. Hope to see ya soon!
Hey there, Basically I’m 18 dropped out of school. Ive been facing mental health problems since i was 15 and tried to take my own life. I was hospitalised this year for 9 weeks and then a day patient for 6 weeks after. Im no better and I’ve the doctors have decided to stop treating me as they don’t know whats wrong. anyhow due to this fact that i can’t be helped and my lack of future and many many other things I’ve decided that tonight I’m going to take my own life.
does anybody have any tips on like is there anyway i can make the whole discovery of body easier on my family
just incase any advice like if i somehow wake up and I’m in a lot of pain should i just wait it out
I can’t deal with being fucking bullied anymore. I’m still being called an idiot, a *****, a sociopath, and an attention seeker in person and online. I’ve gotten more threats, such as being pushed down stairs AGAIN and getting the shit kicked out of me. Meanwhile I don’t talk or interact with these people whatsoever. Seriously I cannot get away from this bullshit no matter what I do. The worst part is I can’t do shit about it because nobody fucking cares anymore. This is why I should just keep all of my emotions bottled up because whenever I share them I end up being criticized and belittled. But according to others I only “act” like this for attention and to make me feel “special”. What the fuck? I would NEVER in a million years, DELIBERATELY be this way. Why on EARTH would I want YOUR attention when I want you to leave me the fuck alone! And me being “special”? Me having a mental disability doesn’t mean I’m special, it means I HAVE A MENTAL DISABILITY. I already know I’m a shit person, I don’t need more people to tell me that.
I’ve decided I’m going to make my exit. Not tonight, not in the near future. But the sands of time are trickling. It was around this time last year (oct/nov) that my moderate depression took a sudden darker turn. It was like a switch went off. It was a sudden emotionless matter-of-fact realization: I have nothing to live for. Nothing, truly. I have a husband who loves me dearly, but you simply can’t live for other people. This time last year I made the decision… but how? where? Planning is crucial, not only because I don’t want a failed attempt. I’ve felt out of control my whole life… I want to be in control of my own death.
Death is funny. Near, but elusive. Life is a tightrope. Everything is a threat. The water that comes from your faucet… don’t drink any and you die. Drink too much and you die. I’m tired of walking on walking on the edge of a knife in anxiety.
I want to die outside in the woods, a peaceful, beautiful setting. Since I have no tolerance for cold weather, this gives me a short window of a few months. Last November I wanted to move forward with my plan and did my research. Dying reliably is hard. Not only would I need a few supplies, I would also need to prepare myself mentally. You see, while I had a clear and rational view that I needed to go, that I am simply using up resources here, I had this pesky will to survive buried deep down somewhere. I had to start whittling it down and with steady self realization, it worked. But soon I got caught up in holidays, life, and inertia, and before I knew it, spring was dawning. My time was coming, and I didn’t have the supplies I needed.
Late March and into April has always had a queer suicidal effect on me. I think it has to do with nature waking back up, life moving forward in a realm I don’t truly belong to. I had an anxiety attack and cut my legs up something fierce. It was like I was in a trance, shaving my legs with an xacto knife ankle to crotch. Strange, since I’ve never cut myself before. A couple of days later I was very embarrassed about cutting myself and hoping to put that fiasco behind me. But my husband had it in his head that I was a danger to myself and he excused himself to go for a drive. I was home alone, placidly surfing the internet in a tee shirt and underwear, when a stream of cops walk in. My husband called. I politely told the gang of cops that my cuts were self harm, not a suicide attempt. I assured them that I was not a danger to myself. They milled around for a bit while waiting for a call from their sergeant. Some of the cops were looking at my aquarium while others were poking at my belongings.
The call came on the walkie talkie that I needed immediate hospitalization. The police called the medics, and I told them that I wasn’t going to fight, but I wasn’t going voluntarily, either. It wasn’t right. I was completely rational and being removed from my home. I dropped limp and heavy as they picked me up and strapped me down to the stretcher.
I won’t go into the horror story at the hospital. Long story short, I was stripped of my rights and my autonomy, I was infantilized and pathologized. I was glad to get out, but it left me in a very fragile place. I don’t talk to my husband about my mental state anymore.
I pissed my chance away this summer, and now I am waiting for spring at the earliest. I still have to acquire chemicalX, which I’m looking into.
Societies view on suicide is wack. Its far from selfish… why would you ask someone to go on suffering because their relief would upset your sensibilities? You’re selfish, you twit. And its not cowardly. That will to live is a pain in the butt, it takes focus to weed it out. And guess what? That life-affirming “it will get better/its a temporary problem” bullshit? That may apply to impulsive suicides, but what about mental illness? What if you’ve done everything that they told you to do, the professionals that ignored me and stigmatized me? Made worse by the guilt of knowing I tried, I really did try, day in and day out. Sometimes it doesn’t get better.
You know when somebody says “You shouldn’t be around people who make you unhappy.” There’s only one person that makes me unhappy, and that’s my mom. The worst part is I am forced to be around her. She is emotionally abusive and she claims that she has never said anything bad to me. She says I’m a *****, a drama queen, that I’m crazy, and she hopes I run away. She is the reason i cry so much. I’ve suffered from depression since I was 8, and my mom has always belittled me about it. My older brother at the age of 7 had a ruptured AVM in his brain. He had to have brain surgery and he almost died, it was one of the worst moments of my life. So whenever there is a problem with my mental health she compares it to what happened to my brother. She asked me one time “Why do you get so angry and upset?” And i told her it was because i have anger issues. Then it turns into “Who diagnosed YOU with anger issues?”. And that is nothing compared to some of the other things she has said to me. I’ve attempted suicide twice, and it wasn’t until the second time, when i was 14, she found out. The first time I was ten and i tried wrapping my dogs leash around my neck and tying it on the pole in my closet. So one day we got into a fight and I was crying in my closet, so my mom sent my little brother in to watch me, and these were her exact words: “Jack, you stay in here with Tara so she can’t say (in a high pitched voice) ‘Oh I tried to hang myself with Muffin’s leash!”.” I couldn’t believe she said that, I was shocked. I went to a partial care program called High Focus Center for my second attempt, and we had group therapy and everyone gets a chance to process. I told the therapist and the other teens some of the things my mom has said and done to me, and they were shocked. They told me I should’ve called dyfs, and my therapist told my mom they had said that. She was so mad at me. She then told my therapist that I was making up stories and that this was all in my head. I felt like i was nothing. I hate how she is always in denial. She denies i have mental issues, she even denies she has a drinking problem. She also denies how she is abusive to my dad, she’s thrown things at him, screamed at him that he’s a fat fuck and that she wishes they could get a divorce. Whenever my parents get in a fight, I always make sure I have an eye on them because I’m scared somebody will get hurt. She treats both of my brothers better than me, and I just don’t know what to do. I’ve attempted to talk to her but it turns into the whole “I’m the parent not you!” “I tell you what to do you don’t tell me!” And yes, I’m not the perfect daughter, I’m not nice all the time. But my mom overreacts and taunts me for days, telling me I’m a ***** and that she wishes she could move out and leave me and my dad. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried family meetings with a therapist as well, but I refuse to go to one again after she screamed at me in front of my therapist calling me a liar. At this point I don’t even want her to be a better mom, I just want her away from me. What should I do?
I question my existence every waking minute. It doesn’t matter if I’m awake or asleep, I live within nightmares whether lucid or subconsciously. I have tried everything to change my mind but there is nothing left for me here. I fear myself to be a burden to those whom I love and in my demise I feel as though I would free them of their constant angst due to the worry they possess for me. The problem is; I don’t want to die! But I am not living. This is not living. I am merely respiring, merely going through the motions of being alive. Yet with each sun up, I am in crucifying pain. I’ve drowned in the tears I’ve shed when I see my reflection in the mirror – hating every part of myself both inner and physically. My body is exhausted from the haunting essence of my dark past; and drained from having to hide the vertical scars that etched up my arms and had almost caused fatality; the lack of blood that once circulated through my veins, feeding my heart has subsided and I feel myself growing weaker rapidly. I have suffered from depressive disorder, self-harm/suicidal ideation and an ED since I was very young. Nine was the first age I was when I first attempted suicide, fifteen when I began self harming and twenty when I could no longer hide behind my perfected facade and pseudo smile I’d lived by my entire life.
Now I have found myself here. Stuck in hospitals and a mental institution for over four and a half months now. No freedom, constant medication, always being questioned about how I am feeling or what I am doing. I cannot continue living in these artificial atmosphere yet I am afraid of what will happen once I am released from these “safehouse” prisons.
There is no hope for me anymore. There is no hope for recovery. I am long lost, my body simply an empty shell holding a soul prisoner until the day the body breaths no more and the soul is freed.
I yearn to rid myself of this constant torture – I yearn to leave this other form of hell we call earth.
Only in death will I begin to live again
This story is 100% batshit nut TRUE STORY. and its pretty queer and peculiar but here it goes……I NEVER thought I would be so unhappy in life but I realized shit hit the fan in my life from the beginning ….
BOTH of my parents conceived me in the state mental hospital and I was born in 1988 and was adopted
I have been homeless for over 2 years since 2011. and I tried to commit suicide 4 times too. I suffered a lot of emotional torture from being a crossdressing punk rocker who was raised in a adopted close minded conservative home , that I moved out of in 2006. I got made fun of a lot in the homeless shelter for being a crossdresser and actually tattooed the word stupid ****** onto my right arm just too shock the fucking shit out of people & I didn’t care what they thought about me. and it actually worked too.
I actually tattoed myself beause I really hated being transgender and never thought that I would end wanting to crossdress like that and also because I wanted to shock people with my crazy tattoo. but now that tattoo is making me feel really depressed and suicidal so I am having it removed.
AMAZINGLY though , I DID NOT feel that way about my tattoo until recently.
I also have borderline personality disorder like my parents who both have mental illnesses too and cant seem to be happy and have been like this since 2010. when I lost my job due to my depression.
I have admitted myself to psychiatric hospitals and had terrible side effects from about 17 different psych. medications I took between 1995-2014. I don’t take any psych meds now though. because of a little brain damage from taking them.
I think about suicide ALL day long EVERY single day. However I do believe that suffering teaches me WISDOM the same way as in Buddhism and eastern culture.
Without Suffering I learn NOTHING. So if someone is reading this . just be glad your not me and if your suicidal like me. just know that life can always be waaaaay fucking worse than it probably is for you OR me right now.
and right now I am staying with some open minded family and I hope I can remain unhomeless for as long as possible.
However sometimes I still feel very ambivalent with my suicidal thoughts even with mantras life still seems OVERWHELMINGLY DIFFICULT for me and YOU. but I think that T.V and fucking fairy tail movies and media make us think that life is supposed to be easy . when YOU and me know its NOT.
LIFE is NOT supposed to be easy for ANYONE or ANYTHING.
I hope this helps me by writing this and I maybe I can inspire someone else to think more deeply about being suicidal. and if not I hoped you thought it was at least interesting.
depression is silent, it creeps up to you at first, and then all at once. Sometimes it causes anxiety, a mental disorder. I think it’s funny how most people say I don’t do anything for them, when in reality, I do much more. I fake smiles and wipe my tears to avoid them getting stressed, I don’t talk to them so they don’t have to put up with me, and most importantly I pretend I don’t have a mental illness called depression.
As the lines from one of my favorite songs;
“So what if you can see, the darkest part of me? Nothing can stop me from being the animal I have become.”
I wish and want things within my life to get better, but for somehow they just continue to get worser. I have Borderline Personality Disorder, Insomnia, Generalized and Social Anxeity Disorders and aÂ long list of other problems I dont care to list. I’ve been suffering from Depression since I was nine years old, I also started self- harming at this age. I’ve been thru alot trying to recover and cope with the issues I have going on from day to day. It s taking a tow on me, andÂ I can’t seem to focus on anything else besides my issues. Hate my life and Hate the world around me , because theres so much destruction and violence in both. I listen to alot of metal, which can help me take my mind off of some of the craziness. Basically, it helps me toÂ dissociate into another world that’s has some type of reasoning and order. I do use alcohol and weed as well to keep the worrying and sleepless nights at bay, but its getting to the point nowÂ that im feeeling theres nothing here for me to stick around to. I feelÂ I would be better off dead. I dont have anyone I can trust or can talk to. I feel alone and most of all I feel so empty inside and want to die.
At the age of 17 after signing paper to come to kicking horse job corps in Montana. I had a break down. remember that I have PTSD, I had a psychotic break down. this is honestly that hardest part of my life Its hard for me to tell people. but here it goes. I had a psychotic break down I was homicidal and suicidal. I showed up at my moms not(best friends mom and his house)Â house.Â She wasn’t feeling good. she was feeling sick that day. She looked at me and asked if I was okay. all I could manage was a head shake saying no.Â She asked if I was going to do something stupid. I looked at her and then looked at the floor, then looked back at her. Then I said no ma’am im not okay. She said grab all your things out of your truck Nae. IÂ grabbed all my things my school supplies Â Â everything. I walked back in and looked at her. She then tells me I am taking you to the emergency room and we areÂ going to involuntaryÂ put you in a mental hospital so you can get the medication and the help you need. I didn’t call my parents until that night around 2 am. I calledÂ from the hospital, saying mom I am voluntarily signing myself in to a mental hospital, I am not safe by myself, I need the help. She started crying. I felt bad that I hide so much from her for almost 18 years. Â I got the help that I needed from the mental hospital and I am now on medication for PTSD, anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mood disorder. People that my life wasn’t hard. it wasn’t hard but it was a tough life that I lived. I am now on the medication that I need to be on. I am now engaged to the love of my life whose has two kids. I am a female who lived through hell and got what she wanted at the end. I am engaged with two “step kids” I never call them my step kids bc I treat them as my own. I am planning on marrying My girl sometime this summer. There is hope for all the people out there that are going through the same or different thing as all of us out here. Suicide is hard, I’ve lost and saved some lives from suicide, by being their friend, by listening, by helping them get help they need. Don’t give up on life. don’t give up hope that there is no help out there. there is help out there. It may hard asking for help. I never wanted to ask for help but here I am thanks for the time that I showed up at my moms not house, not asking for help, but wanting help. she saw through my lies and saw that I needed help. Everybody that’s going through thoughts of suicide. that need somebody to talk to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. This is coming from a young lady who survived suicide attempts, who went through being raped twice, through drug abuse, through being abused. yes Im finally happy again but it tookÂ talking to somebody and getting the help that I need.
I want to die, and not because I’m going through some ‘rough times’ or whatever, I’ve felt this way since I was at school.
I’m in my 20’s and I have mental health problems, manic depression,Â insomnia, amongst other things, I never have any energy nor feel happiness.
I feel like life isn’t for me, it’s all too hard when I think of it all, it’s soÂ daunting and I just don’t have the energy for it. I can’t hold down a job because of my insomnia, so what’s the point of living? I’m not wired properly to ever be happy and I’ll always have problems doing normal things.
I believe it’s a basic right for any living being to be able to end their life, yet it’s so hard to do so, I don’t like pain and I’m scared of something going wrong if I attempted anything, it just makes me so mad the way this world is, all I want is a quick and easy way out but apparently the government, Â people in power, or Â the law (whichever) get their kicks from letting people suffer, I can’t even get a gun where I live.
I’m just so fed up.
I know genreally pill overdoses fail and such but mine is well backed up my extensive research so its not a option. I know there is the chance i will end up in hostipal in agnosing pain as my liver will be completly destroyed after 200 pills of these kind but thats a risk im willing to take. Hanging was my go to for a long time but I just cant bare for my parents to hear “your daughters hung herself” its just too brutal exleast this way they will get to be by my bedside in hostipal. It pains me to be typing this so casually knowing the pain my family will endure its selfish of me but i need them to know this is noones falut but my own I am a pathethic excuse for a human being dont try to tell me otherwise because you dont know me just belive me when i say that. I wont explain the circumstances that lead me to this but just know its not a simple breakup nor teenage problem. It is a mental disorder that ive suffered 8 with for years Â ive tried 6 antidepressants been to therapy for 2 years , simply the pain outweighs my coping mechanisms. I wish you all luck on your journey in life or death and hope you can find hapiness. Bless you all.
suicide is a permanent solution.Â
to a temporary problem.