Name one thing that would make you happier and would make you feel less sad or suicidal.
Just curious what other people are missing in their life.
It’s the ultimate revenge, the ultimate statement upon this sick, delusional, worthless farce known as humanity. Life is so very overrated. Everything we think we know is bullshit. Everything is a delusion. Dreams. Success. Love. Charity. Compassion. These are all illusions that hide the craving for disease and evil humanity promotes and chases. To end one’s life is the ultimate finger in the face of all these delusional lemmings. To end one’s life is the ultimate statement of awareness. It tells the universe that you see through the lies, see through the bullshit, and no longer want to drink the Kool-Aid anymore. It is only in death that I am truly free. There is no value to life. Life itself is parasitic, and can only exist by destruction and pain of other things, living or not. To die is to evolve. Life is the Matrix. We live only to feed our enemies. Everything is our enemy. In death we escape. Oblivion is truth. Oblivion is freedom.
In death there is nothing, and in nothing, perfection. The one thing left I look forward is the moment I take my last breath. On my own terms. I will not let death take me. I will take myself to death and rob him of his victory. And in doing so, I rob this sick world of even more, as I fade from it, I will take my knowledge, my insights, my dreams, my songs, and passions into the void, and let the world continue to be the festering, deluded pit of filth it so desires to be.
A lot of people say that Suicide is cowardly. I disagree. The one thing that is a constant source of apprehension and fear in humanity, is death. No one knows what happens when you die. Is there an after life? A heaven or a hell? Are we reborn? Or do we simply disappear?
Many of us are preoccupied with our own death and the preparations there of. We write Wills years in advance, we buy life insurance, we go to church and pray in hopes that through redemption we will obtain a better place in the afterlife that may or may not exist. We as humans fear death. It is something that we can not explore, we can not collect any data on or conduct any experiments on with any type of accuracy. It will forever remain a mystery.
Those who choose Suicide are not cowardly, they have chosen to dive head first into the source of the greatest uncertainty of death. In my mind, the choice to die is one of the most brave choices one can make. While I agree that Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, it is not a cowards choice. It is often a choice of desperation and despair but it is not a choice made out of fear. To call the act of Suicide a coward discredits and ignores the human relationship with death.
Never thought I’d end up here again.
Im sitting on my bed with a pile of pills in front of me and i dont know whether or not to do it. It seems like everyone has given up on me. My mother saw my cuts and everything started falling apart. My sisters have nothing to do with me any more. My parents send me to my room a lot. My friends exclude me from many things. I just want to be normal. I want the cuts to heal, but they cant if i keep making new ones. I dont know why i cant stop.
Im a fail. I get that. But why do they have to keep reminding me? Laughing when i make a mistake or whispering behind my back. i just cant seem to climb out of this dark hole. I need a ladder. And no one is willing to give me one.
Im not strong.
But one thing has me questioning that statement:
“You arent weak. If you were weak, you wouldnt be here right now. Youre still alive. Thats saying something.”
Ive never been that girl to be “depressed”. Im always laughin,even when there’s that one thing that killed my mood,i always find something stupid to laugh at…now i realise that that was my brain’s automatic way of blocking out what i call pain.
Something happened tonight that changed me,my whole mental state. My dad hit me..not just hit but PUNCHED me. He misinterpreted something i said and took it as an insult, so then,he punched me. I must admit, im not the most respectful child,at all. But i NEVER thought my own father would punch me,as if i was one of his scumbag friends. Ive always said that ” when im in trouble,my mom hit’s me,never my dad,he’d never hit me.”- boy was i mistaken. He went on to tell me ‘you’re nothing’ and “you will die one day”. Dont know what that meant but, it hurt,alot. My mom didnt know what to make of the situation except telling me to shut up and go to my room- dont know why.. Dont get it twisted- ive had a very privileged life. My parents gave me everything i want, and we are considered wealthy, but no amount if money can compensate for this anxiety i have. To be honest,i don’t know what to write,or how to handle this. Drank 11 painkillers (hoping it will make me dizzy),no dice. Cut myself ( that helped a little)- But now what? What happens next? I dunno. Im ranting because i have nothing to do (s0rry). I hope if i got to sleep,im wont wake up, i just want that permanent numbness- death. Ive never attempted suicide,thought about it alot,never had the nerve to try,now ive tried,now what? Dont know,someone comment,cause im really lost.
I never asked to be born. It’s not like I was given much of a choice. I didn’t choose my parents, my house, the schools I went to or the country in which I live. I’m just here. And everyday it becomes harder for me to accept that. It’s not my fault that I see the world the way I do, or that I hold such feelings of hatred for it. Nothing would make me happier than to see it and everyone in it burn. But no amount of me hoping, ranting or dreaming of that is going to make it happen. So I give myself the one thing I’ve never had before. A choice. A choice to suck it up, knowing that even though tomorrow might be better there are many more days of hardship to be faced…or to just end it all before it gets any worse. Why shouldn’t I have that choice? Why would anyone want to tell me not to take my own life because, “the hard times only make the good ones seem better”…seem better? What part of “seem” is the same is “be”. There’s no point in waking up every day when every night you hope and you pray with all your heart that the sun won’t come up.
Maybe now it would be appropriate to say a little about myself. I grew up in a small town in a remote part of the country. Not a lot of people. Everything was so tight-knit. And I was so…different. I don’t know why, I just was. I had a hard time throughout the entirety of my childhood fitting in and finding friends. I was often bullied and as a result became quite a bully myself. I grew to prefer being alone. My relationship with my parents was rocky at best. Of course, I was a daddy’s girl. Dad and I were like peanut butter and jelly. But I only saw him a couple days in a month if I was lucky. The rest of the time I lived with my mother and my stepfather. Mom was okay..but she was scared. I could see it behind her perfect “paper-doll” expression and “prim and proper” lifestyle. My stepfather was a bastard. He liked to hit me a lot. Mom never did anything about it.I wanted so badly to live with my dad…I was never given that choice.
But I found refuge with the best friend I could have ever hoped for. I was 12 years old when we met. He took me under his wing and taught me how to live on stage. Everything I came to be was because of him. I grew up to be a passionate and exceptional cellist for 15 years. Every happy moment in my life for the six years that he was part of it I owe to him. He came to call me daughter and I loved him like a father. But eventually I graduated high school and moved on to college. Suddenly his hand was no longer on my shoulder. I was alone in a new town full of new faces. I made new friends. I became someone else. I became someone else so many different times that now I don’t even know myself anymore. I often feel like my soul doesn’t fit the body I’m in. Like this shouldn’t be my life. I no longer play. It pains me so greatly to even take my beautiful instrument out of its case. Like it’s looking at me with such immense disappointment that I just keep it locked away to spare myself the tears that I know will soon follow. I gave up on the one thing I loved the most. And now I don’t have much love for anything at all.
Every day is the same. I wake up, I go to work, I make a pathetic little paycheck every two weeks, I go home, try to fall asleep and start over. I’m so stuck in the past that I’m afraid of the future. All I can think is “why did I let myself do this?”Â “how did I get here?”. I’m so tired of being afraid all the time. Sad all the time. Soon every friend I have here will be gone. They’re moving on with their lives. But I’ll still be here. Alone yet again. And even more lost than I’ve ever been before. All I really know anymore is loss and heartbreak. I just want it to end.
I’ve survived two suicide attempts. But unlike most, I never reached any kind of epiphany. I never felt like it was something I shouldn’t have done. The only regret I ever felt both times was the regret of not succeeding.
It doesn’t matter who I am. It doesn’t matter who I was or planned to be. Who I loved, who I hated…they don’t matter now. Because in the end it just comes to a screeching halt one way or the other. Life is just a terminal disease that we all have. The only cure is to die. If there is someone who has anything to say about that, I am completely open…for now. Thank you for reading.
Hi, my name is Shannon and I am “to far out to find my way back” as I like to say. I have excepted the fact that I may never get better but I never expected to get this bad. Depression is like a roller coaster with up and downs that change so fast that outside life becomes a blur. In short I’m so lost in my own world that I may never find my way out. This scares me more than anything else because my world is like a horror film, full of death and destruction. The one thing that scares me the most is that I hate myself so much. I know that what the kids at school say about me is true and that fact is hard to live with because you never know how many flaws you have still someone makes it a point to make sure you know every single one of them. At this moment it seems like all there is is pain in this world. Love doesn’t exist in my world because if you love you open your heart to being broken so I have pushed everyone who cares away to save us both from pain. No one thing or person can save me. I have been suicidal since I was eight and now I am done with listening to what everyone has to say about it because all of the people who try to give me advice have never been through wanting to kill themselves. I am an addict to cutting its like a drug the blood and pain and emotional release is the best high in the world and people don’t seem to understand that. When I wear short l
sleeve shirts and kids see my scars I’m told to go kill myself and stuff like that. I need help and I don’t know what to do please help me. I figured if I could get advice from someone who has been through what I am going through I might just be able to pull myself out of this depression.
I do not know really how long I have been coming here to this website. The archive only goes back to Tuesday Feb 1st, 2011.. I have read a good lot here, I haveÂ read a lot of peoples stories. Some are very interesting, some are rather not. I may have posted things here, not quite clear. I don’t think so.
I am a 38 year old man. I turn 39 this May.Â I doubt I will make it to 40 regardless. I first started in therapy when I was 20 or so, I was still in the Navy then, it was a Navy psychiatrist. I had attempted suicide in Yokosuka Japan where I was stationed. My wife was from Peru. We had been together maybe 3 years. During this time she had 2 abortions. I had gone UA (unauthorized absence) and did not know where to go in life. Assuming the worst, I tried to slit my wrists. So many times I wished I had gone then.
I see a lot of comments on trying to get people some help, that things are ok, everything will be ok. What if I do not want things to be ok? What if I want to die? What will you say then?
After Japan upon returning home to the US, things looked good. But one thing was apparent, I just could not seem to get happy. Yes, there was times I was on top of the world. But was usually short lived.Â At some point, and for the life of me I just can not seem to recall when exactly, it seemed I could not do anything right. I had a good job and relationship one day, the next everything would unravel. Why? was it something I said, had done? No.. It was the life. Maybe it was the day I realized my wife, whom I had left in japan, was never coming here to the US? That one day I just never heard from her, could not contact her, could not find her? It was not that, however it did not help things. After I realized she did not want to be found, or me to find her, it took me about 2 years to even think about starting a new relationship. That is just the kind of person I am. I did not want to give up.
Already being suicidal I sought help again. And for a time, a long time, I seemed to be doing fairly well. Until one day it all came crashing down. There was no “trigger”. Just a deep desire to stop living. I would not even call it suicidal thoughts. Just a deep desire to lay down and never wake up. It is fairly simple. Why do I feel this way? Although some things do seem to make it worse, the problem underlying is the same.Â Why can I not just stop breathing and go peacefully? Why do I have to torture myself day after day, year after year . One doctor said I was “out of his scope”. What does that mean exactly? And medicated I feel nothing, I suppose that is how that is suppose to work? If you feel nothing at all then hey at least you will not try to suicide.. Except, when I was medicated that was closest I ever came to killing myself. Had plans, backup plans, notes … That is the second time I wished I had gone through with it. But instead I reached out. Got more “help”. What some of you people do not understand is that some people do not want ‘help’. My ‘help’ would be for you to tell me it is OK to go. I do not understand myself why I would come here and write. Everything I say seems to contradict another.
My wife is a pill head. Every dollar she makes goes to pills. I have no job. I quit my job about 9 months ago.When things go wrong here I will be homeless.Â It has been a rough 9 months. Not the worst, but rough. My (new) wife has been on me to find a job. Like I just sit around and not want a job.Â I guess honestly I do not. I feel it is Game Over time for me.Â It is worst it has ever been. It is not because I quit my job, it is the reason I quit my job. If that makes any sense. I quit my job because I gave up, I quit my wife because I gave up. I quit everything because I gave up.
I do not want help. I want understanding, I want peace. I have been living with this loop for 20 years. When they tell you it will get better, it does not. it did not for me.Â I have tried and tried. Year after year, it is the same. It’s funny. I dated a woman once, we split up. She checked herself into a psych place, they had her doped up so much she choked on a brownie. Hmmmmm
Is it bad.. that i still fight for control.. after getting stiches twice from cutting “to deep” the first time i hit my tenton, about a year ago.. iÂ couldnt even move my left hand .. i didnt say anything for 3 weeks.. and the cut was still open.. i was in an intesive outpaitent center and finally they convinced me to tell my dad shall the doctor and they kinda i guess glued/burned it shut.. worse exspirence ever. Not stiches but you get the point..
The second time was about a month ago.. with the box of razors my x gave me i sliced at my right arm.. my left hand shaky.. i slipped.. i told the nurse at school. Stiches.
Now as i hold the razor in my hand and slice at my hip, i try to only do short shallow cuts. But their deep. If i use my fingers to full the skin they gape wide open.. but i promise myself no matter what.. im in control.. cutting.. is the only thing.. i’ve EVER had control of. And that day when i cut to deep.. i lost it.. the one thing.. i .. the only.. thing i ever had control of in my life. I sit in my bathroom, blood trickling from my hip. I wipe it.. cut right over the old cuts. I havent give my self much room to work with.
I’m in sports medicine. I wear a uniform and my sport season is coming up. I wear shorts and a short sleeved shirt. No room for cut there. I get dressed in a locker room full of other girls. You could say cut your stomach.. no they’ll see that.. as soon as i remove my shirt. I need my control.. i need this .. to be able to go to school.. smile.. to just be able to say “im okay” *smile*
None of your probally get it.. its sad though.. most of my supplies .. bandages, gauze, oitment.. all comesÂ from this place.. as much as i loveÂ helping other people i help myself to the supplies.. for my own obsession. I stole a scapel from them. 6mm scapel.. whey the have it.. dont know.. they had bout 20 in a box.. they wont miss one.. would they?
I sit here crying.. over how worthless i am. They boy i loved.. only wanted me for sex.
My parents and i cant stop fighting.. i refuse to take my meds.. so my mood races .. they dont understand its not me.. im not the one who yells… who freaks out.. its not me.. i dont.. its someone else..
but they never understand.. that this isnt the real me.. that all this shit from my past the meds everything is turning me into a monstor that im not.
I try to stay calm.. havent slept in two days.. went downstairs did most of my chores and then i asked my mom hey can we dye my hair today?
She said no.. cause i always post pone things never does what she asks.. its always a fight.. and i just broke. Everything i’ve been holding in since the last time i cut ( 2 days ago when i found out the boy i love only wants me for sex) just let loose. i kept telling myself you can cut after you dye your hair.. so you can be able to get undressed infront of your mom and have her help you wash your hair in the shower.
I did lay on the bathroom floor a bit before i cut.. i just lay their silenty crying trying not to sob.. i didnt want my mom to hear me..Â i dont need her.. i dont need anyone to save me.
I pulled the razor out of my wax case ( from when i had braces) and i slowly pierced my skin digging it slowly and deep but short. Not daring to make to deep a cut. Not again.. i want control.. i want control.
None of you probally understand this. Why wouldnt you wanna cut deep. I do naturally but when i get so wound up in my emotions i just slice. I dont take time to feel the pain of each cut. To watch the blood beedÂ up and pour from the cut. By the time i relise it.. my hands are covered with blood the floor splattered with blood and i sit their bleeding.. taking it in.. i.. lost it.. my contorl.. yet again.
I want control.. thats all i want..
I just wanna know how not to be scared about cutting to deep..
I want my control back.. if i dont .. get it soon.. i’m .. i’m.. gonna end it..
all of this pointless shit..
all of it..
btw who ever blueberrySman is do not go editing my post or taking things i say out of it.
Thats why i made this to exspress myself.. not to have someone change how i feel to fit their needs
i grew up with both my parents being psychologists, arguing was usually a nightmare, watching them fight before the divorce was almost worse not that i was ever too broken up about it. What it taught me though was a very good understanding of the mental health system, and more so how to deceive it my entire life, i knew what to say and how to say it, which kept me out of the wards even when i was walking around with massive cuts on my arms. You see the problem with lying though is you distort reality, and thats just what i did and what was worse is that i had a great knowledge of psychology i knew all the symptoms to major disorders etc… but when i see symptoms in myself i no longer know if their real or imagined, i dont know what kind of a person doesn’t even know how they feel, I’m so confused it just makes me god damn furious i just want to scream that i want help but how can anyone one come close when i have no information to give them about how i feel, i just feel like i might be making myself go insane one moment life is beautiful the next its a grey husk a pitiful joke, a disgusting little worm squirming on the ground as it dies but not yet willing to lie still not accepting its imminent death. i regret saying things then i regret not saying things how the hell am i supposed to live like this, the one thing i can say for certain is a can’t go on like this i’m too weak.
this all just feels like one complaint to me, i dont like it at all, i dont know if it gets anything across, i dont know what i wanted to get across i’m going to kill myself after christmas its the only sensible option left on the table in my mind at the moment
Hey everybody, EmM here. I’m feeling in a very inspirational mood tonight. It’s great to be happy for once =) Here’s just a couple things that I hope might brighten your night=)
Donâ€™t underestimate your full potential.
Youâ€™re beautiful how you are.
Inside you thereâ€™s a brightly shining star.
We are all unique in our own special way.
Who I am is who Iâ€™ll stay.
I donâ€™t want to fit in
if it means I have to become pretend.
I donâ€™t care about having a million friends.
â€˜Cause the few I have will be true to the end.
As for anyone who wants me to be
the perfect person they forseeâ€¦
I apologize for my objection,
but that wonâ€™t be put into action.
Iâ€™m perfectly me.
Thatâ€™s everybody I want to be.
As for you: I encourage you to be the true you.
Itâ€™s what you do best.
Itâ€™s not worth it to set on a popular seeking quest.
You are you, and to tell the truthâ€¦
Youâ€™re fantastic at what you do!
Choose, itâ€™s all you have to do.
The only thing that will make anything better: the one thing thatâ€™s been weighing you down.
Itâ€™s what has made you, for the past how long, feel like your world was crashing down around you.
That is until you realized how simple it really is. All youâ€™ve got to doâ€¦is choose.
While I was sitting, pondering,
speculating, What does this world have for me?
Besides pain, that isâ€¦Will it ever get better?
Maybe I should just end it. Then it wouldnâ€™t matter.
No, I canâ€™t. I have too many friends.
Theyâ€™d die if I caused my own life to end.
I couldnâ€™t do this to them.
However, my class wouldnâ€™t care. Iâ€™ve already been told by one of them.
But then, talking to my best friend, she said all I have to doâ€¦is Â choose.
Choose to be happy, choose to smile.
Choose to enjoy the little things for a while.
Choose to be the best you YOU can be.
Choose to be.
Choose to be different, donâ€™t be like everyone else.
Youâ€™ll go somewhere in life, Youâ€™ll be okay.
Thereâ€™s nothing wrong with your ways.
Itâ€™s everything you are. Itâ€™s all you should want to be.
Choose to accept the way you are.
Who knows, one day, you could be a star.
I love you, many people do.
Youâ€™re strong, you can push through.
Just keep holdin’ on,
We’ve all got to be strong.
If you’re ever afraid,
turn to God for He has a way
and will hold you as He has all along.
â€œDraw near to God, and Heâ€™ll draw near to youâ€
so you may see the world from a different view.
And even if times are hard,
Heâ€™s always there like a shining star,
though sometimes hidden by a clouded hue.
Here’s the suicide note I’m thinking of using:
Iâ€™m through living a life whose defining characteristic is being depressed.
I have what would appear to others to be a good life. I have parents who love me (albeit from 3000 miles away), good friends (albeit almost all of whom are married and so not as available to their single friends anymore), and a good job (albeit one I no longer have any interest in because I donâ€™t have any interest in anything). In short, I have what appears to be a good life, albeit, it isnâ€™t.
Iâ€™ve been depressed for ten years now (give or take), and Iâ€™ve lived in the DC area for fifteen. Thus, in all my time here, in all my life since graduate school, Iâ€™ve lived twice as long depressed as I did enjoying things.
Iâ€™m killing myself now for what should be a self-evident reason: I donâ€™t want to live any longer. Please resist the urge to lie to yourself or to me by believing that things â€œwould have been betterâ€ if I had just done X. Live ten years depressed yourself, then see how well X makes things better!
I apologize to anyone I told that I was feeling better. I guess you are familiar with the fact that, when youâ€™re depressed, you exaggerate how bad things are. Well, that works in reverse as well: itâ€™s easy to say how much better things have been lately if you are in one of those momentary cloud breaks.
So, Iâ€™m skipping all of it.
The growing old.
The being alone.
The sitting at my desk not getting any work done.
The knowing that youâ€™re a reasonably smart person and not being able to bring any of it to bear.
The utter lack in any interest in anything.
The getting fat because eating is the one thing that reliably distracts you from how unhappy you are.
The getting up in the morning and SO not wanting to get out of bed.
The realizing that life has passed you by and thereâ€™s no way to catch up to it.
The progressing diabetes and all the fun it has store for you down the road.
The sitting in a filthy apartment and not having a tenth the needed willpower to get up and clean it.
Iâ€™ve already seen what ten years of living like this was like, and Iâ€™m looking at a good thirty years more of it. After which, when every last ounce of despair has been squeezed out of me, then, and only then, will I be rewarded for my stamina by being allowed to die.
So, sorry to anyone who wanted me to go back for a another helping of that shit, but fuck that, I think Iâ€™ll pass.
Iâ€™m skipping out.
Gave at the office.
The checkâ€™s in the mail.
If I do that, the terrorists win.
<sign name here>
Alright. Never thought I’d post anything here, but after reading a lot of your stories, I feel like sharing mine. Please bear with me.
Where to start? I’m 27, have the best parents in the world, a great brother and a bunch of friends that I could hang out with. I graduated last June, but haven’t looked for a job, I’ve done nothing with my life really. I’ve just been depressed, scared of the outside. The thing is, I always saw it coming all along.
Basically I’m “afraid” of people and what they think of me. The fact that I studied journalism doesn’t make it any easier, since you’re required to be very assertive and to talk to a lot of people on a daily basis. I started my studies thinking that by the time I’d graduate, things would be different, but they just aren’t. The one thing that could have saved me was taken away from me, but I’ll talk about that later.
I don’t know if my zero confidence stems from my problems with relationships or if it’s the other way around, I really couldn’t say. But something happened to me that really broke the camel’s back, and I see no way out.
First, my past. Love, girls, relationships, I’ve always had a lot of trouble with those. So much that after a while it’s all I could think of, and still is. I had a three-year relationship with a girl who tormented me every chance she could get. I think she was legitimately crazy, and it didn’t end well. I think I just stayed with her because I wanted someone there for me. After that, nothing. There were girls that I was interested in, but I always got rejected. It made a mess out of me a few times, but when I look back on it, they weren’t really what I wanted anyway, and I never contemplated killing myself over them.
A few months before my school ended we were divided into small groups to work on some projects and a certain girl was in mine. I had already noticed her before, thinking she was something special, but never really interacted with her a whole lot. She just had something about her. She was unbelievably kind, always smiling, innocent, pretty, but never had a boyfriend before. I was in a group of seven, and I was elected to be the group leader for the final projects we had to do.
During those months I worked together exclusively with this girl almost all the time, often from early in the morning until late at night. Her well-being was always what mattered the most to me. As the group leader I would try to get things done for our group, but I was just thinking about her. A couple of her best friends were in our little group, but she even prefered working with me over working with them, all the way until the end of the school year. We worked the hardest of any teams and had the absolute best products. I have never worked with someone this well, ever, and probably never will.
While spending so much time with her, I really started to like her, a lot. She was my perfect match, in every way. She was the One for me. A couple days in, already, I started to think about making a move, but I was too big of a ***** to do so. Right after school ended I would leave on a month-long trip, so I had to do something. So five days before I left I finally just told her I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t do “this”, and I kissed her. She kissed me back (her first kiss ever), and I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. It was what I had been waiting for for so long.
I never expected to meet someone I would feel this close to, let alone have a relationship with her. All my friends were happy for us, as were her friends. I had a great five days with her before I left on my trip. But the very night before I left, she acted differently. She wasn’t the bright little sunshine that she always was, she felt kind of distant. During my trip I didn’t really hear from her all that much, and I hated being away, I just wanted to be there with her. When I came back, it was over. She said she didn’t feel the same way that I did, and it was over.
I talked to her twice after that, but asked her not to contact me again. I know I’m running away from my problems, that’s just what I do I guess. But this time, it really just hurts too much, way too much. She really was the one for me, my true sunshine, the most beautiful thing on this Earth. I miss her beyond belief, but nobody understands me. I really don’t believe that someone else will make me feel the way she did. What is there beyond perfection?
During those months and my short relationship with her I was oozing confidence. Nothing could stop me, I was the man. Since I returned from my trip, four months ago, I’ve changed. I don’t eat a lot, I just play videogames and sit around at home. My social life has crumbled because I don’t want people to see me this way and to avoid the questions. I’ve lost all interest in anything. I’m in therapy now, but that doesn’t help a whole lot. All I can think about is what has happened to us, and why, with no improvement. I don’t WANT all this. I just feel stuck, with no solution to my problem. And it’s starting to scare me.
I know this might sound strange, but even after those few months I felt as if I had found my soulmate. Yet, five days is all I’ve been granted, after suffering my whole life, just wanting someone to love me. And it wasn’t just with anyone, it was her. I truly believe nobody will ever appreciate everything about her as much as I do. I just don’t understand. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all.
I’ve been contemplating suicide but ultimately I think I’m too big of a ***** and I don’t want to hurt my family. But it seems to be the only way out.
I’m sorry for the long read, I’ve just lost all hope to continue.
so, first off im happy today:) (but its night so that will change im sure.) but one thing is really annoying me and probably always will cause i will never understand what goes thru my friend’s mind.
he says his life will go dark without me (saying i die) cuz im his best friend and he has no one else..? ok cool. understand that. he says im amazig and the bestest friend ever? i dont believe it cuz i have proof im not: first, im not that nice i complain and get depressed and hes the ONLY one i talk to when i consider suicide which makes him freak out (um, im a *****?) second, he has cut a few times….BECAUSE OF ME!!! :'( (yeah that guilt will carry on forever til i die.) third, i NEVER shut up! which he seems fine with but he dont tell me nothing it seems to always be bout me..(wich i feel bad about cuz i dont wanna feel like i wont let him speak) see?? yet even with all this he still seems to think im just so amazing and without me hed be lost…HOW HOW HOW? honestly devin? i wont die right now. but i WILL NEVER SEE WHAT YOU SEE ABOUT ME.
I donâ€™t know how to start this post or how to write things down right now but I was just, am now, thinking about something.
There has to be something after death. Spirits will carry on.
If my spirit from the future could write a letter to myself, what would it say?
I expect it to be a goodbye letter to life, to me. A story to leave behind. Regardless the age or reason of passing.
Will it be a story about how a heart grew back together? Or will it be about drowning?
Maybe, hopefully, there is an ode in it about one certain person that I will cherish in my soul forever. A person who finds me in my future of this life. A person who taught me about love and showed me what it truly was. A person with an important role in my life, any kind of role.
The letter could tell me I have found strength and succeeded to be happy, that the wounds are healed and the scars are faded but the knowledge is still there and I am strong.
Would I tell myself to â€hold on, it will be betterâ€ or am I writing the letter right now?
I am in charge of the content of the letter, I am and will be the spirit me.
Someday I will be that spirit with a full written story. One thing is for sure, it wonâ€™t be a comedy.
Iâ€™m the one who is writing a story noone reads and I donâ€™t know what Iâ€™m writing or how it will end. Iâ€™m stuck in this part of life, the writersblock.
I would love to visit myself in the past already because all I need is another me.
i have the bestest friend in the world. ive had a few best friend before but he out rules everyone. sure i cant just walk over to him cuz he lives to far..sadly. but so what? the one thing i dont get is that after all i put him through with my multiple (some near fatal) suicide attempts he’s still by my side. he is the biggest reason i can still breathe to this day..i have moment when i fall but he pulls me back up eventually. without him id be screwed over maybe even dead..my best friend is the one of the best people in my life. i will never forget him…dead or alive..he will always stay my best friend. he’s so special to me…probably why im still here XD so thanks.
I enjoy life, but life hurts and abuses me. I smile and laugh at the little things, while beingÂ degraded and yelled at.Â I smile every day because I forgive and forget, everyday I am mentally abused and given a new reason to cry. However, I can’t cry with my eyes so my heart hurts for me in exchange for my smile. I laugh and things seem to fade away and release me from my worries, but he knows exactly what to say to crush me. Â Everyday I trade my pain for a genuine smile, I let myself forget, I let myself go on without letting it get to me, even though I remember every word. My memory is the one thing I try hardest to control, to filter, to edit. These things I hear, these things people say, if I were to remember them all I would have snapped a long time ago. However, there are those few days, when time moves slowly, when reality catches up and my corrections fade into the static. Images flash and blur with the words I can’t stand to hear. The accusations, the hurtful words meant only to tear me down, to tear away the smile I work so hard for. These are the days when everything blends together in a mesh of color and emotions. These are the days when I can’t help but look twice at the knife lying idle on the counter, when I can’t help but get lost in the blur of traffic as I contemplate just a slight swerve. When ropes cause my eyes to look to the skies for the perfect perch. The truth is I cannot ever hurt myself because it hurts my heart much more than it ever would my flesh. I don’t need physical pain to know these things are real.
Dawn breaks, everything is fixed and my smile is back, everything is alright now, no worries. I can’t cry because tears and smiles are not meant to linger together on the same face, so I embrace my smile and live quietly under the pressure. The torments will end, tomorrow with come and go, just like today. My heart will hurt, but it won’t last. I accept this lifestyle without questions, some call me a masochist, but really, I think I am just to forgiving. This is no love story, this is a family that has been broken and the one that finds peace in the simple joys in life, is the one that deserves to be tormented. Never has a hand been laid on me by them, but every word is just a reminder of what I really am in the reality of this world. I don’t much care for that reality, so I smile, to help me forget, to allow myself to believe they are lying, to try to keep my heart from breaking. I smile, because its the only thing they can never take from me, no matter how hard they try.
However, this lifestyle has taken its toll, not just on my mind, but my body as well. I am sick and my body is slowly decaying from the inside out, breaking down from the stress that I live every day. Doctors try to hide their surprise, but I know enough about medicine and the medical field in general to know that look. They try to shrug it off so as not to worry me, saying its not bad, trying to keep a cool, passive face. I know the images they are looking at are not normal, I see some of the things they see, I see the problems, the irregularities and I know what most of them mean. I try so hard to keep my mind clear, to pretend I have no idea, to live a lie in blissfulÂ ignorance, but its not nearly that simple.
Helpless, and unable to fix this, I wish for everything to just end, for things to no longer be,
I want to simply fade away….
The thing about my sister, is that she is mean. Not only that, but she doesn’t realize that when she tells people these mean, horrible things, that they are affected by it. That what she says to me, makes me feel worse about myself. How many times have I cut myself over things she said or did to me? Too many. How many pills did I try to overdose on, July 1 2010? Over 40. That same year, I overdosed again on August 23. The second Monday in school. That same year, months earlier, I tied together a bunch of knee high socks, and tried to wrap them around my neck until I stopped breathing. I guess I’m not strong enough… Or maybe I just didn’t have the guts to do it. I relapsed on cutting. A lot of people might say that cutting isn’t a drug, not addicting, but you have no idea how you start to rely on it. The one thing that’s constantly there for you. Blood and a blade, or in my case, needles. Blades creep me out. Plus that leads to scarring, and that leads to getting noticed. People will ask “Where did that big scar come from” and you can reply with some lie, to cover up the truth, OR tell them, my sister is constantly telling me i’m worthless. Which leads to you NOT GETTING HOSPITALIZED? Clearly the first. So needles. I realized if I use a clean needle and don’t cut as deep as you would with anything else, no scarring. So, today. I ate my sister’s pita chips, which were mostly gone, and I had already had half the strawberries, and all the pasta, which of course means EATING DISORDER! Yay! I eat to wipe out feelings of loss, sadness, you name the “bad” feelings, and I eat. Anyways, I ate them and she got pissed. Started screaming about how I ruin everything, and show she was going to backhand me. Well, the second she left the room reached over for the sharpest thing in the room. A pair of cuticle cutters. So there goes the three months of being clean, no cuts…
Now, thinking time. What pushed me over the edge, besides my sister screaming threats at me? I was already eating, and am still hungry… So why? Lets see, this weekend, I was at my dad’s house. I was digging through my step mothers bathroom, looking for the face wash, when I come across HER old driving license. Her, being Aunt Cheri. You see, Cheri had killed herself a few years back, failing at first, and then jumping off the roof of a hospital. I just sat there, staring at her id. I already decided no more tears, so I held it in. Until today, where I am now staring at a bottle of my zoloft, wondering if I still have that stash from a few months ago when I stopped taking them for a week… Should I do it? Argument with the light and dark in me.
Light: You just passed, you are going to make new memories, forget the bullshit that happened. If you just dont take the damn pills.
Dark: But after the first try? No, you are a failure. And you always will be.
Light: What about the people who love-
Dark: Love? No one loves you. No one cares about yo-
And now I have zoned out of that… Well since it’s in my head, I guess I zoned back into life… But I cant do it. I will never have the guts to do what Cheri did to me. What I would do to my mom… So death? I guess it’s a no go. Bye for now.
This is gonna be the strangest of post for me so far…I’d just like to share this completely for once.This is the one thing I haven’t told anybody since the time it was created when I was 10.No one ever knew this,not even my family.Strange that I’m putting it here to complete strangers on a suicide forum.
I think this is in a way how my last sliver of hope takes form.For as far as I can remember,this world was boring,colorless and full of unfair things.I was quick to escape in my own little dream-land.I was a lone little dreamer since kindergarden,always drawing by myself.No one could enter my dream-land.When I was 1o(maybe 11?)I started to create my own little paradise.A world only known by me.When I was tired of loocking at this ugly reality,I would gase out a window and get lost in my thoughts and dreams about this world.I often put those thought on papers in the form of drawing,never showing them to anybody.No one was allowed to trespass in it.It was my last little corner of peace.
One year later I decided to create characters for this world and story to go with them.I based them all on part of me.Then I created the main character and the main villain.The villain eventualy came out to be a representation of me.They both had one of my two wishes.The main character wanted to find a reason to him being born in a world he hated.The villain wanted a place he could finaly belong to.Even now I often fantasize about doing just like the villain in my story: gathering all those that suffer in the world and together we’d make it go away…
I thought the story shoudn’t be about good or evil,right or wrong.Just a simple story about finding ones place in the world…About finaly finding that moment when you can smile even with all the uglyness around you.So I thought of a title and I found the perfect one.
Now that I think about it this little corner of dream of mine has become so link with my life that I’ll probably never find a proper ending to the story.When I DO find how it ends,I think that’s when I’m finaly gonna be able to smile too.
I haven been here in sometime, mostly because i found and amazing guys who gives me a reason to live and fights for me at moments when i feel like giving up. But as you guys know it life cant be great for people like us things always get screwed up for us. My mom hates my boyfriend and has gone to the extend of telling me that i have to pick between her or my boyfriend and if i see my boyfriend again i would stop being her daughter and that i might as well just kill her because thats what im doing by dating him. I dont know if she hates him bcz his black or if that has nothing to do with it but she tells me im to good for him that i deserve someone better but i wish she understood that this guy she hates so much is saving my life i mean if it was not bcz i have him i would b living my last few days as of right now. i dont know what to do i mean my mom is my mom can i ryl do something like turn my back on her? but letting him go is not an option either bcz he is the one thing that is keeping me a life. Why cant i ever just b happy why must life always make things so complicated and hard? What should i do about this?????
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