I hate feeling frustrated with this job too. I don’t have any options to get a full time job. But I’m supposed to be an equal with someone here, same position, same level, both leadership positions for others. But he’s taken over, and it’s like I suddenly have another boss, one that disapproves of everything I do, calls all the shots, and I have no freedom anymore. I was liking this so much because of the creative freedom the real boss gave me, and that my ideas were listened to and even liked. Now I’m back to this “no, no, no, I don’t like that, do this, this, this, and that, and redo everything you did before at the last minute” by someone who’s really not the boss. Why do people never listen to me!?!?! Why is everyone else on earth always above me!!?!?
For those that discover the body of someone attempting a firearm suicide, the vision may well be traumatic. A shot to the head that has an exit hole is likely to spread blood and brain/bone fragments over a wide space. Depending on where the gun is aimed, it is also possible that bloody facial disfigurement occurs. Even a bullet not existing the head will result in blood coming out of the entry hole.
Shots to the chest or abdomen are even more likely to cause significant bleeding, with the likelihood of finding the body, possibly still alive, in a very bloody state.
For those concerned that those discovering them will see a serene corpse and not be haunted by a vision of a violent, bloody death, this is unlikely to be the method to choose. Previously quoted studies would suggest that using this method tends to be more impulsive, so it would seem that those selecting firearms as a suicide method will not be thinking too much of the trauma caused to those discovering them.
Some days I’m ok, some I’m severely depressed and others I just want to die! Brain injury is a strange and vicious *****!!! Tattoos, music and spending time with the very few friends I have left helps me thru, no Dr’s, no drugs except weed:) and a few shots of JD!!!
: Some good music (Title Fight), 125 mg of Seroquel, 4 mg of Xanax, 15 mg of Temazepam, 2 shots of vodka, a beer, and a quick masturbation session before I fall asleep watching some lame ass television show or something. Loneliness really is a *****..
I just got out of the hospital about a day ago and I find myself here at about 2:15 am sitting in the living room in a some what odd position in quite a significant amount of pain. 6 days ago, after having a rather unproductive and uneventful day, I ended up getting into an argument with my 17 and a half year old son over the fact that I hI have been sober for 3 years and about 5 months or so however back in February when I was tired of being accused of drinking when I wasn’t and being accused of being a piece of shit when I wasn’t and over all just looked down on because I didn’t feel that going to a place everyday where I was reminded that I was not “allowed” to do something that I enjoyed doing that everyone else could and that it was easier for me to not want to drink if it wasn’t something I thought about every second of the day, I decided that I wanted to know what Jack Daniels “Honey” tasted like.ad had a shot or two of Vodka and I was planning on having one or two more in the very near future. The trouble with that situation is the fact that I am an alcoholic. It sounded really good to me and it was something that came out after I quit drinking. My boyfriend and I had broken up and I didn’t think I would ever have him back in my life again so while I was down in the dumps about it, I wasn’t on the “Oh My God I’m gonna drink till I can’t drink anymore” kick. I just felt like having a drink. So I went out and bought a bottle. I was so “not” in the drink my sorrows away mood that I didn’t even open it that night. By the time I got home the thought had past and I forgot about it until later the next day. Then when I did finally crack it open, I think I had about 2 or 3 shots worth and put it down. Then, yet again, I forgot about it. That little bottle lasted me about 5 days and that was even with someone helping themselves to some of it without asking. I didn’t drink again after that for quiet some time again. It was a couple of weeks at least and a friend had bought the Jim Beam “Honey” flavored whiskey. He offered me some and I gladly obliged a drink here and there but nothing too major. Then the next day when I was having some pretty serious psychotic symptoms and I was asking my boyfriend to do me a favor that he really didn’t want to do or feel was necessary, he asked me to wait just 2 hours. So I agreed as long as he would let me finish what was left of the Jim Beam because when the two hours was up I was not going to have to opportunity to drink again for a little while. He agreed and so I finished the last quarter of the bottle. I drank one other time after that and it was when my boyfriend and I had broken up and I just knew we were DONE. There was no way that I was ever going to have what I had always dreamed of having with him and I was going to be lost forever without him. So again, my friend went and got the honey flavored whiskey and I drank. The thing about all of this is, I never got drunk. Not one of the 3 times that I have had a drink or the opportunity to get drunk in the last 3 and a half years did I get drunk. I did catch a buzz, that happened once. But thats it.
Back to what just happened last week, I get a bit confused because while I was completely coherent, I remember everything, and I was not high on meth or anything, they say that my alcohol level was 30. First of all, what the hell do they mean by 30? Do they mean .30? .030?.0030? Because even a 3.0 would mean your dead. Not only that, but I know what I drank and with only 2 shots of cheap ass Vodka there is no way that my blood alcohol level was anywhere near .030. I’ve been there before and let me just tell you, it isn’t pretty. Not with me, not at all.
So if my alcohol level was survivable and I was at home and all, how did an argument with my son land me in a hospital? Well, you see, my son has absolutely no tolerance for me drinking and I had kept the fact that I had had anything to drink at all hidden from everyone as much as possible because I knew that they would get upset. I had no idea however that my son would get as up set as he did when he saw me with the bottle of Sky in my hand. He started to yell at me and became irate and he then went ballistic.
Time line break
That was back in May, the whole incident happened on April 28, 2015. I am finally getting a chance now to have some free time to myself to actually write again for my own good. My cognitive self is still a little slow and I am typing a lot worse than I was before but the more I do it the better I get. I’ts really sad and honestly too hard fot me to tie in to the above paragraph with ease so I will just write it here bluntly…… My son saw, only saw, me carring a bottle of alcohol down the hall way and we got in to a physical fight. It became so heated and full of anger and hate that he beat and kicked me until I was unconconsious. When I came to, I started screaming he’s killing me! He’s killing me! Someome helpme! HE’s KILLING ME! And who called the police? My son did. When all was said and done, I eneded up needing 2 plates and 10 screws in my shattered ankle and had noteable bruises in other places all over my body. I have had my leg in a cast for 6 weeks with no weight baring, and now in a walking cast for 6 more weeks with limited, to some weight baring, then some to all weight baring with a PT once a week for the first four weeks and so on. I can see how eventually I will physically heal but mentally and emotionally, I think it will take a really long time.
This behavior with my son really concerns me and I worry that I raised a psychopath. Do I really want to stick around and see the damage he is gonna cause to others? What can I do at this point? What can I do now? I feel like I have ultimately failed him and myself.
Above are a few of my older shots repurposed or recycled to make one piece.. Is that what I am? Am I just something that someone forgot about? It’s like whatever put me here found me and decided that I could be used to take everyone’s shit. Have I been repurposed? I used to be proud of who I was.. Not so much now..
A flower destroyed for its fragrance
A singer being forced to dance
A branch broken to cause pain
Water released to go down the drain
All of these things I see today
Make me wish I knew why I was made
I survived such a horrid day
But all I feel is angry and afraid
Does this amuse you?
Am I just some sick game?
I guess I never believed in you
But this really is a shame
I don’t know how to feel about myself right now. I have been doing so many wrong things, just so I don’t feel bad. Just so at the end I feel worse. Too many parties, to many guys… Not so much shots. I feel so lost.
You could look at your family right now and judge them just by looking at them because no one knows their family better than a outsider. I’m the type of person who doesn’t talk much, but feels a lot. Keeps everything in and listens to others. Having parents who smoke weed and drink alcohol everyday, gives you a different look on things. You mature faster, but don’t make good decisions. I smoke weed and yet my parents tell me not to. They think I don’t know about it but actually I take their weed and call them hypocritical. I’ve cut myself and I’m not proud of it. I’ve been depressed for years but I am terribly afraid to tell my family because I can’t handle having to be yelled at. Call me an idiot but I’ve taken 10 pain killers and took it down with shots of vodka because it sounded fun. People would say your trying to commit suicide but when you put it that way, I chicken out and over think everything. I think of who I’d be leaving behind and what I’d miss in life then don’t do what I think about daily. I watch movies and see them make un-real mistakes because they bounce back and everything’s ok. I wish it was like that but in reality you go through hell if you make it alive after suicide.
Its been a while. Well not as long as for some people.I have heard stories of some people who have been tacking depression for 10 years, 15 years and I used to think to myself that there was no way I had the strength for that shit. Here I am , about 6 months into severe depression and it looks like this aint gonna go on for too long. Â I even started reading depressing books. People would say that this is the worst time for it. But honestly, reading books about good people being screwed over makes me feel like I have company. Like Im not the only one who gets to die young. I tried writing a diary but I couldnt stop thinking about it. And I used to read what I wrote and it was so dark , I would relive it. So I threw the diary. But I guess knowing that an end is near makes me feel lighter than I have ever been. Its been a long and arduous fight. And then I thought that maybe I should see the world completely before I leave it. Im thinking of travelling before I do it(Please share any fantastic travel experiences or recommendations for places if you are a traveler). Easier said than done.
I have been working towards preparing myself for my final moments. Taking your life is not an easy ordeal I would assume, and it would be nice to be as less sad as possible when that moment comes.I tell myself its ok to do it. A lot of people have it bad too. Its not like I have been screwed over on purpose. Cause honestly sometimes I feel like I have been f***** in the a*** for no reason. Â I guess thats gonna end soon. Of course all hope is not lost. Im gonna give it one last shot. But it doesnt look like anything is going to happen given that the last shots missed so miserably. Trying to be strong for myself here. Life wasnt easy. No reason for death to be hard right? Does anybody feel like punching a wall when they see a couple smiling and walking hand in hand, or that kid listening to music and laughing? Why do they get to be happy? These questions take the life out of me. And its all I can do to remind myself that in a few months, maybe even weeks, I wont feel miserable anymore. I wont fight no more. And then something happens that makes me think, ” What if I stayed alive?Maybe Jennifer Lawrence will marry me.”
This is seriously messed up. Why the hell do the poor get poorer? Can a bus just run me over already?
I want some advice from people who successful committed suicide as to how they did it. How did they ease the transition? I cant get than now can I?
I want to embed myself under the furled layers of your essence, tuck myself beside the pulsating beat of your vulnerability. I want to drink you in, sip your secrets like shots of soul-warming alcohol. Intoxicate me with your purity, render me unconscious with your superiority and smother me with your suffocating beauty. Tease me with the palpable touch of your absence and speak to me in words so powerful their meaning can’t be truly fathomed. I miss the quintessence of your endless nihility.
Like a beautiful, burning inferno I want you to burst into vibrancy, your hot, explosive atmosphere lighting up the room in your scintillating brilliancy. I want to feel your heat immersing those around you, drowning them in your presence and surrounding them with the inaudible murmurings of your ruination.
Walk on me, step on me with the grace of all the dancing phantoms you have imbibed through your skin. Smear me into the mud, rake me against the ground and chisel me into a shapeless sculpture of dullness and dust. I want to be the logs you consume, the sustenance you ingest to ignite the vitality that vibrates in your veins. I want to be the unsung hero who allows you to be this flame, deplete me of my energy and ambiance and relinquish me to a pile of smoldering cinders and glowing coals.
Carve a map of your vacancy into my flesh fabricated and cultivated from the stars and sun blotted out by your breath. The iridescent glow that quivers in the sky oscillates only for you, congruous with the silent palpitations buzzing beneath my chest.
Iâ€™m choking on your nonexistence, my throat wrapped around your occupancy as tangible as dreams. In the back of my mind hums all the dreams Iâ€™ve dreamt of you, but you told me broken promises slice not stifle
Your music has no lyrics, because ghosts canâ€™t speak. And it doesnâ€™t have a tempo, because phantoms donâ€™t have heartbeats.
At the moment that I am typing, I am quite drunk. Unlike all the times in the past, for the very first time, I am actually drunk for a good reason. I am not drunk because I am depressed. I am drunk because I am actually happy. I will be able to tell by tomorrow if I will be okay though.
I was making this IHOP shots (50% of Butterscotch Schnapps + 50% of Crown Royal Whiskey shot.. and then followed by orange juice) . It is actually quite tasty. After about 7 to 8 shots..you feel this feeling of FREEEEe……dom. Anyway, I am quite conscious as I am typing this (even though I am quite Â WeeeeEEeeEeeee).
While I was taking shots, I was on Facetime chat with this good friend of mine on the phone (she is also having fun by taking the same drink concussionÂ as well). She is down to earth with me.. and I wish she knew how much I feel about her. She is so free spirited, and everything about her just seems to attract me more to her. It is so wrong in so many ways, because I know my parents would never accept her, but just for tonight, she is the girl of my dream.
Peace out people!!
I havent been on here in awhile but now i need to come back because my world is turning back upside down.The depression is bad and for once theres not a real reason.I just feel drained.My meds were making me hyper in the beginning.I had a sense of happiness and peace for just a moment and now well its gone.Im back to being the me that i dont want to be.The me who feels like a failure and nobody cares.The me that feels depressed.
Im trying to wait befroe doing anything this time.Because my familys going to disneyland together and none of us have ever been.I just have to hold on until after disneyland. But hey if we dont make it to that then well you all know the nature of this site suicide project.We dont come here to express all the joyus things in life and why life is so great.Well at least most of us dont.I dont even have a bad life.But i feel so depressed for whatever reason.Im so worried about so many things.My mind doesnt have a second to rest and well i just feel patheticly sad.The car broke down today.Both cars we have are super crappy.But yeah it broke down.Thats more money we cant afford. And it fucking sucks.Why cant something be right in this world.Ive been praying to god that things will get better.But i get nothing.I dont know maybe im not trying hard enough.
Ive had two near death experiences now.ANd both were scary as fuck.One wasnt even an overdose.I cried like i was a baby.Cause i was scared.I realize i have to deal with my fear somehow.Its not detering me from killing myself.But it has caused me to get help which is what i dont need.People have helped enough.My psychiatrist is refusing to see me cause i overdose on pills.There plan is to try shots now but the nurse told me theres risk.Since im allergic to every antipsychotic..I dont know what to do.I cant help other people and i cant help myself. After disneyland its over and im pretty sure im not coming back this time.After all ive had two near death experiences and theres that old saying three strikes and your out