im a female, will be 17 in august, maybe. My family just got a hold of some pictures of me smoking weed and that sparked them to search my room and found soooo much weed and bongs and bowls and lighters and stuff. They are furious and ashamed and they just found out all this other stuff about me to that you wouldnt want your parents to know. I know it doesnt sound like a big deal but my parents HATE me now. my parents arent speaking to each other, they are probably going to get divorced because they are blaming each other for my behavior. My brother hates me because my parents are also blaming him for knowing about some stuff i did and not coming to them. Its not going to get better. My dad has a temper usually but NEVER has screamed at me the way he did and said the things he said before. He told me that i am no longer his daughter, that he doesnt want me associated with the family anymore because all i do is bring shame to us. He said that he hates me and he cant believe that im such a fuck up. My mom and dad both havent talked to me in days. They took my phone, my computer, they are selling my car, im not allowed to be friends with my only two friends, im grounded for the entire summer and probably more. the only way im even writing this is through an old ipod they forgot i have in my room. i am so depressed and i havent stopped crying for three days straight. i have completely torn apart my whole family and cant stop thinking that if i wasnt here anymore all of their problems would go away. i dont know what to do.
I got sent to the E.R today for suicidal thoughts.
Don’t tell me its alright.
My parents called me a big problem. They are angry at me. My mom said she wanted to buy shoes and now she can’t because “I did all this”. My sister said I’m being a stupid teenager. My father and mother said that I was doing all this intentionally so I can go see how a psychologist works, because I like psychology. My mom said that she feels bad for my sister because my sister wanted to go out the the mall, and they had to get called to the hospital. My mom and dad are angry they spent 50$ for parking at the hospital. My mom called me a whole bunch of swear words. My dad thinks I made a tiny mistake.
Tiny mistake. I never knew how worthless I am to them. I never knew it. But they were even more pissed than I expected. My sister and mom said all the problems I was having were all fake and I made them all up just because I enjoy it.
When the psychologist left the room, and my parents had to leave my mother said, “Have fun.”
My dad said, “It is enjoyable for you right?”
FUCK THEM. I felt bad about suicide for a long time. Like, I’d be shaming my parents. Fuck, it was all my sister said the entire day. “SHAME. SHAME ON YOU.”
Those words fucking sting like a knife. Now all this experience has given me is more hope for suicide. HELL YAH! I am going to do it on April 6th. I’m GOING TO FUCKING DIE!
FUCK YAH. FUCK I HATE EVERYONE!
I was never this sure. Now,after being sent to the E.R, I am.
Not an emergency anymore, I guess.
I cracked a smile this week – some things are such a good distraction.
A positive thought or two, but I feel too mentally frail and tired to act.
And now I am back to my misery and despair.
Perhaps I can stay distracted until I fade away.
inside of me exists
that makes me
it nurtures and it
it cradles me it dreams
i see this thing
that makes me
in his stare and
I see it as he turns
he walks away
good bye again
he leaves again
in pain again
no hope again
the same again
with this thing
that makes me
I HATE this thing
DON’T want this thing
it has stolen
it has robbed
the life i want
the life i dreamed
just you and
I see it now
that makes me
you are my SHAME
my faithful shame
through thick and thin
inside of me
in spite of me
you never leave
and now I know
you never will
This time when I cut, I regressed to cutting my left shoulder, as I was wont to do years ago. I slit superficial lines between the iron cross, making the black ink of the tattoo glisten prettily. I wish I had taken that razor and slit my goddamn throat. But I am a gutless *****, too afraid of what could happen to me if I do it. So there are 14 lines, some longer than others, some deeper than others. All easily hidden by my shirt sleeve.
HOW FUCKING DARE YOU BLAME ME FOR WHAT HAPPENED??!! The fall wasn’t my fault. “You’ve got to hold on to her hand so she doesn’t fall, you ALWAYS have to hold on to her hand!” You take her shopping then *****. FUCK YOU!!! Old people fall ALL THE TIME. There is NO FUCKING THING I could have done to stop it.
I wish I had died that day. Ironic, how 7 months ago to the day I was admitted to the psych ward for contemplating suicide. I wish I had died that day, jumped off the balcony and splat my goddamn guts all over the place. Dad’s home now. I hear his voice, and feel nothing. I want to get one of his guns and blow my goddamn brains out.
GODDAMN. GODDAMN YOU ALL. GODDAMN ME.
I HATE MYSELF. I FUCKING HATE MYSELF. MAYBE I CAN DIE OF SPITE.
I am so fucking DONE. I want to die.. well I don’t want to die, but I want this pain to go away. I want the constant numbness, guilt, sadness, and every other emotion to stop. I want these voices to go away and leave my head. I want my father to actually love me! Hell I want my family to actually love me! All they do is tell me that I’m a waste of time, money, and space. They don’t support me. They don’t encourage me to live my dream. They don’t encourage me to get involved with my church, instead they act like it’s the biggest burden in the world to drive me there for things other than service. My family isn’t even half of it. I’m tired of people using me. I’m tired of guys trying to get one thing out of me. I still have flashback of when my ex tried to rape me.. I have flashback of the guy who stalked me for months and cornered me. I have flashback of what my uncle did to me. I keep thinking of all the guys who thought it would be funny to act as if they liked me then embarrassed me in front of the whole school. I think of the guy who lifted my shirt in the hallway at school. I think of all the people who call me a whore and a slut even though I am still a virgin!! And how whenever I get close to someone they move or just straight up leave. I think of how I’m constantly called a failure. I think of all the people who used to beat the shit out of me at school everyday. All the people that left me alone to join the popular crowd. I think of all the people who would throw pieces of glass and rocks at me. The people who would throw all of my stuff into the trash can and tell me that it’s all garbage just like me. All the people who tell me to kill myself on a daily basis… And then over all I think of my 3 friends who successfully committed suicide… I think of how I was on the phone with Lucy when it happened. I can still hear the conversation. I can still hear her mumble out the word “goodbye” through her sobbing. I can hear her kick the chair out and the phone fall to the floor. I can still see the last message Evan ever sent me and the message that Hunter’s brother sent me to let me know what happened. I think of how I never see my brother anymore, how me and my sister fight all the time, and how my parents fight constantly. How my dad calls my mom a fucking ***** and how she threatens to leave his abusive ass through her tears. I think of how we’ve had to move in with my grandparents because we can’t afford a place of our own. I think of how I get blamed for everything and how I hide in my room blasting music to escape it all. I think of all the people who have left me. I think of how fucking easy it would be.. I have it planned… I only have a few things stopping me. I haven’t met my Austin Carlile (as stupid as that may seem to others, that man is my idol and his music has helped me through a shit ton of things) I think of how the guy I’ve liked for almost a YEAR now has a girlfriend and told me he could never be with a girl like me. How he calls me his little sister and comes to me about everything but can’t seem to see that I’m not like his ex and that I’m clearly not leaving him once he tells me about his past. since he has told me about his past and i’m still here. I think of how he dated my friend when my friend knew how I felt. I think of all the guys who just used me to embarrass me in front of everyone and look cool. And the everyone wonders why I don’t think someone is going to love me. I am just so fucking done. I literally have everything planned out. I just don’t have a date yet.. but it’s coming. I can’t take this hell anymore.. :'(
I’m not sure exactly where I would fall on the spectrum of suicidality. I have a plan. I am in the process of obtaining the means. But even once I have them, I’m not sure I’ll go through with it. I want to have the option.
I’m sad, but it’s due to having to face this decision. Given the choice I’d rather live, but after 20 years of intractable pain with no promise of a cure or even treatment, I realize that this can’t go on much longer.
I have a rare and exquisitely vicious form of OCD. My mind reacts to every small mistake I make (getting a wrong answer, saying something dumb or socially inappropriate) as if I had just committed an unforgivable crime. Think about the sheer number of small errors that you make in any given day. Now imagine that each one of those were something truly horrible.
Let’s say that I cause an awkward silence in a conversation. I’ll have flashbacks of that. I’ll be unable to stop thinking of it. And with each flashback comes a wave of guilt so excruciating as to be physically painful. I can’t breathe. I can’t see. I can only remember that I deserve to die for what I’ve done. This happens hundreds of times per day. I recall mistakes from yesterday & mistakes from ten years ago. All the time. I can’t eat, sleep, shower, shit, read, brush my teeth, or anything else without being interrupted over and over by these horrifying images.
I know that it’s irrational, but you can’t reason with OCD. The knowledge that my thoughts are absurd does not diminish their horror in the slightest.
Most OCD is treatable. Mine, unfortunately, is not. I’ve tried all of the available therapies and was turned down for a ketamine trial so I am out of options. Suicide for me is not a “permanent solution to a temporary problem.” I’ve lived with OCD for 20 years and will continue to suffer from it as long as I remain alive. It is a factual statement that the only end to my suffering is death.
I so much wish there were another way.
Fear. Fatigue. Darkness. Anger. Pain. Shame.
I’ve been grappling for weeks. This isn’t my first time down this path, I’m a pro at weathering them (but for an attempt in my early 20s when I didn’t know better). Â Right now I’m losing the battle. Â I’ve decided to concede, if nothing else for the peace it instantly brings me. Â But two things are really pissing me off about this right now.
1. Â Someone cares, pick up the phone, call them, they’re all going to be so devastated when you go, blah blah blah. Â Screw that. They all know. Â They know I’m a mess. Â Granted they’re not mind-readers, they don’t know that I’ve crossed over again in the last two days. Â But ya know knowing that I’ve been bone-crushingly depressed and massively suicidal on and off for two+ months now, you’d think maybe they’d frickin check in every few days. Â And if they oh truly cared so goddamned deeply they would. Â Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be bummed if I decide to go. Â But you know what? Â I’m gonna die of something and I’m not gonna just hang out on life support like Terri Shaivo because you’re uncomfortable with my suicide. Â Which leads me to rant 2
2. Â This is the one form of death where I am afforded no dignity. Â I cannot find medical care support for my choice to leave. Â I cannot say goodbye to people I love. Â I have to do it in secrecy and shame. Â It’s under a cloak that I have failed somehow and am behaving inappropriately. Â Screw that. Â Truly, why is it different that I die of suicide – which is escaping unbearable pain – at middle-age than it is of anything else. Â For a while I actually thought about pretending I have a terminal illness just so I could say goodbye to people (especially my grown children) and have a nurse or someone hold my hand while I go. Â The logistics because absurd Â It angers me I don’t get that on my own with where I’m at. Â Because I am a bad girl. Â Oh F that.
The less-than-thinly veiled hostility toward people who kill themselves leaves me livid. Â Whatever, I’ll be dead and won’t care anymore. Â But can you imagine if you were dying of heart disease or something and there was all this weird judgment and animosity and secrecy imposed on your death.
We’re born, we die. Â It’s part of the deal. Â Your death is no more righteous than mine.
I love my wife and Kids, but I am as low as I have ever been. Â I lost my job, and this forces us to move to a new town. Â My wife resigned her job, my kids 7 and 5 will enter new schools and we will be on my salary alone. Â The pressure is killing me. Â I have never been so close to ending it all. Â I have a new job, I have a good new job, it’s hard for me to see it. Â I’ve been so low for so long. Â My kids bring me joy, that’s why i don’t end it all.
I feel like such a looser. Â I declared bankruptcy a while back, and now fired (resigned) from my teaching job. Â I feel such shame. Â I have a fear that I will be homeless and my wife will divorce me and take my kids to her parents. Â I own my truck, I can sleep in it I guess. Â I have family in California, I can move to be near them, or I can start swimming in the ocean as far as I can go, until I’m exhausted and not able to get back.
My wife should have left me. Â She threatened to, and I went to counseling and we decided to stay together. Â She agreed to stay with me, and I am a looser. I need to snap out of this shit and man up, but that is harder to do than say. My kids need me to man up.
i see nothing at all, no happines
When i tried to commit suicide i was serious about it. I locked my door turned my music on loud and ignored the knocks. Well i laid down my tools of trade, a bottle of vodka, to hide my shame, a razor at the wrist nothing would be missed. I.. I took a drink then grabbed my razor as i sat over a towel and just cut my thighs to hell i could barely walk after.. I called my best friend and everytime the phone rang and i didn’t get an answer i pushed the razor harder and Harder on my wrist.. She answered the phone and she knew something was wrong she asked if i was alright and i just broke down and said “no.. please help me.” 5 minutes later she showed up at my door she walked into my room to see me laying on the flood crying blood everywhere.. She slammed my door and ran over to me and hugged me and said “im so sorry ” she started crying. She took me to her house to get cleaned up so i didn’t have to reveal to my mother what i had done.
The worst fear in my life is not that i will lead a lonely life but that the loneliness will drive me insane.
Even when I am in the midst of a huge crowd, a familiar crowd of friends and relatives, that feeling of loneliness creeps in and sometimes pushes me into that unholy pool of madness… where the first impulse is to hide from everyone, the second is a strong desire to run away from everythingÂ and everyone,and then i get caught up in a feeling of despair… at how helpless and useless i am and then the doubts about why i am here to suffer. Then i am plagued by the need to end my existence but there the struggle begins as iÂ lack the courage to kill myself …
My mind squirms under the pressure it created all by itself .. I will do anything to stay sane… I don’t want to be a lunatic with no control over my thoughts… i know i am a failure but i pray that my sanity will not fail me…Before i go completely mad i must somehow muster the strength, either to end my life or to keep the madness at bay …. i don’t know how … but i will… I just cannot bring shame on myself or my family by being totally unsound of mind… I hold on to my sanity by the barest of threads… Anyways i know i can because i have to … there is no choice… i have to and i will….
My past is a bad one Â Â
I’ve learnt to hide
But some of you know itÂ
I can see in your eyes
So what do I doÂ
Where do I hideÂ
What are you thinkingÂ
With misunderstood eyes
I carry my shame Â
It’s all my faultÂ
Â My life full of torture
I hide in my house
The silence not lasting
I am just the mouseÂ
The look in your eyesÂ
It drives me insaneÂ
Â Maybe just a smileÂ
Can ease my painÂ
You don’t know my sideÂ
It’s story untoldÂ
With pen to paperÂ
All soon will be toldÂ
So as we reflectÂ
And wait for an endingÂ
What will it become
When I’m not mending
Friend or foeÂ
We will all soon discoverÂ
But most of you can’t handle
What you will discoverÂ
A friend 4 me
Is being published
By the time you read it
I will be a nothing
My name will be lost
In a past that’s a blunder.
If you have a significant other, what is the right thing to do?
As far as relationships go, committing suicide is probably the worst thing you can do. Dumping the other person, whether in an ugly argument or just by packing up and disappearing, is a lot nicer than letting them find your messy corpse and having to deal with the cleanup, funeral, explanations and shame of it all.
I know when my time comes, I’ll end my life mercilessly without much thought. So I should probably prepare. I’ve come to the conclusion that, for me, encouraging someone to love me when I have no interest in being a part of this world, is very hypocritical and selfish. Dumping her on her ass would be the right thing to do.
Today i am accepting the fact masturbation ruined my life and i am tired of masturbating everyday is there anyone in the whole world who masturbate a lot i am very tired of doing it and i do not know how to stop this habit but i am just in shame today too much because i am very much tired of doing it and i do not want to do that anymore it is not stress reliever for me it is eating my life my body ruined because of masturbation i look very thin and i always use to be tired because of this habit i do not feel confident i am tired of this and i do not know if i will be the one in the whole world to commit suicide because of these things in my life i want to get out of this please i want to be ok and normal and please please please do not laugh at me because this is my life i am a boy can i also have PGAD
Letâ€™s just honestly say, that many childrenâ€™s creation upon this Earth was a mistake. Â In several ways. People tend to deny these things, this entire post perhaps, but they avert their eyes when they do. Â Then they rapidly change topic, start accusations of something you yourself have done, but they twist it around and make it sound as if they had no part in itâ€¦.had no part in being the very reason why you did that (whatever it may be). And when you deny it, of being the sole factor in a certain exchanging of words, in a response, or an action, they lose what little control they had to begin with. The same lack of control that they had when they made you into what you are now, into what you wereâ€¦and always will be. That need for control transforms into absolute rage, rage that stems from the fact that they must acknowledge their own mistakes, and from their own feelings of helplessness and inability to go back. They cannot go back, they cannot fix the wrongs they have made, which created all the regrets that they have now. So they take it out on you, through words and actions, by being absent or being violent. And at a certain point, it comes down to the words â€œNobody wants you here! Nobody needs you!â€ which come out in the midst of them throwing you away completely. They try to erase you, from their mind, from their past, and from their house, all in the same action. The same breath. Some may even be so full of their regrets, their shame and disappointment, that they try to erase you completely, fully, and literally. But then, you leave. Either walking or running, eventually catching a ride. And then, they regret more. But at the same time they feel relieved, and the relief outweighs the regret, the guilt, in the same way that a branch far outweighs the single flower petal. All that matters to them is that you are gone. Throwing out every single thing that could possibly remind them of you they do not notice the silent vacancies of the places you had once occupied, nor the empty shelves and picture frames where trophies and medals, perhaps even books and drawings, once lay. Only the empty bedroom with no furniture and the dust coating the floor and walls in thick layers, remember you. One day, you might come back. Come back to the place that created you, where you were beaten and abused until the very endâ€¦.until you either died or were denied a building to stay in, indefinitely. You may come back to remember, or perhaps to let go of any regrets. But in the end, you have no home to come back to. Just an empty building, or an empty plot of land. In the end, you do not become like Them.
Something I wrote when I thought about how much my parents regret having a second child (me). Sorry if this was a trigger or anything of the sort. It was not intended.
Sometimes, i feel it’s bad to succeed in stopping someone from committing suicide, but the person still suffers. I see peoples stories on here and for a lot of them, i can see so much success in getting better. But, for others, their lives seem to be getting to them. It’s so sad to see someone struggling to live, and they shouldn’t have to suffer. It’s amazing when someone can pull through that kind of pain and you see them so amazing in life. Suicide is neither wrong or right guys. I just want you all to know it CAN get better, but if you really can’t handle it, don’t feel guilt or shame for wanting to die. I urge you to atleast TRY therapy, helplines, something.. cause i hate to see someone killing themselves, it’s tragic :/ Stay beautiful guys, and if you want to talk to me my email is firstname.lastname@example.org I don’t care who you are, i want to try to help you 🙂 STAY STRONG LOVELIES!
You can talk to the people here for help- http://www.samaritans.org/
Kids Helpline International- http://www.kidshelp.com.au/grownups/getting-help/who-else-can-help/helpful-links/help-lines.php
I never thought I would be on this site as someone posting from a desperate place, instead of helping out through comments. But life is ironic that way, no?
If think if anyone KNEW the impact their suicide would have on those left behind, I honestly don’t think they would do it. They not only leave us to mourn them, feeling the pain and sorrow because they’re gone, etc. They add so much more to all that. They force upon us guilt, remorse, hatred, confusion, shame,unknowing,alone…anything and everything one could ever feel is thrown at you all at once. What they inflict goes beyond any pain or suffering one feels when a person passes due to a cause that isn’t suicide. You never recover. You can’t. Even if it seems the grief is managed, its really not. Â I KNOW if they really knew what happened after they chose to leave, they would change their mind. I have to believe this. Its one of the only ways I can deal with my loss. Its unthinkable to me that my loved one would intentionally leave me with such anguish. Â Â (This was the first comment I left for someone here and thought I’d use it for my first post too)