The demons are getting to me. They are all inside my head now and my body is getting drained more and more each day. The suicide fantasies and the warm feelings of ending my life are starting to flare up again. Medication is not working anymore either. I think I’m gonna have to go sometime soon. I have fought for long, but they are winning.
Family & Friends EffectsFun & InterestingGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NotePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
I hate business !
I hate money !
I hate capitalism / capitalist !
The main reason is because business kills creativity & ideas . money kills creativity & ideas . capitalism / capitalist kills creativity & ideas !
There are a LOT of good ideas , creativity , imaginations , inspirations , dreams , & even good deeds that business / money kills ! simply because of a petty, shallow reason “it doesn’t make a lot of money or profits ! ”
money makes the world unfair ! business makes the world unfair ! capitalism makes the world unfair !
plus , the world becomes a boring place !
everything is all about MONEY , business , and profits only ! even though actually Life is SO MUCH MORE than that ! ie: imagination , dreams , creativity , Love , education , inspiration , helping each other , Heart & SOUL , genuine things , sharing , laughter , collaboration together , science , philosophy , and mankind / humanity / civilization make a great jump / leap forward in progress to a totally NEW era / civilization / Mankind / Humanity ! instead of only repeating the same , stupid, shallow, superficial, ignorant , narrow minded , dull , boring , petty , miniscule , & meaningless things like politics, wars about who has the most MONEY , fighting over religion , race differences, etc etc !
I used to have hope for Humanity , hope for Mankind , hope for humans , hope for people , hope for human race , hope for Mankind ‘s civilization … but now unfortunately / sadly I lose hope in humanity , lose hope for mankind , lose hope for humans , lost hope for people , lost hope for human race, losing hope for Mankind ‘s civilization ,.. Humanity is hopeless , Mankind is hopeless , human race is hopeless , human beings is / are hopeless , mankind ‘s civilization is hopeless .. !
I hate people / humans / humanity / society sometimes !
anyone also feel the same ? anyone can relate ?
(PS: have you guys also heard of some alternative movements / solutions like for example : Resource Based Economy (RBE), The Venus Project , the Zeitgeist Movement , Thrive movement , Paradigm Shift , Basic Income movement , Equal Income movement ? what do you think ? will it work out as an alternative / solution for our current society ‘s problems ? )
Family & Friends EffectsFun & InterestingGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NotePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
Imagination better than reality? Why Imagination is better than reality? Why is Imagination better than reality?
Why Imagination is better than reality?
Why is Imagination better than reality?
Why is fantasy better than reality? Why fantasy is better than reality?
What puzzles me the most is human’s mind / human’s brains and imagination better than reality / human’s fantasy is better than reality.
just look at the movies, novels, comics, games, books, , animations (anime / manga), science fiction (sci-fi), fantasy , like Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Narnia, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Swords Art Online, Interstellar, etc etc, they are much more interesting, full of POSSIBILITIES & varieties / variations, and better than reality / BORING reality / real life / real world !
Our everyday’s Reality / real-life / real-world is boring, mundane, dull, LIMITED / full of LIMITATIONS, and often we fantasize / fantasy I wish I live in the movies, video games, novels, comics, books, anime / manga, etc etc , than this Reality / real life / real world !
Why imagination better than reality?
Why imagination is better than reality?
Why fantasy is better than reality ?
Why our human’s BRAIN / human’s MIND and human’s IMAGINATION is better than boring REALITY ??
WHY ?? …
(PS: I need SERIOUS and detailed answers. not stupid, ignorant answers. thank you).
(PSS: also, how many of you here also have heard about: Virtual Reality (VR) , Lucid Dreaming , Astral Projection ? I hope they are real, so I can leave this boring reality / reallife / realworld & enter worlds/universes of IMAGINATIONS .. ! )
Dont let that Demon Suicide thought Zap you. I have found Talking or Asking for support helps heaps. I know its HARD trying to come out of Suicide Mode. But we Only live Once & Suicides a B*#$h
Family & Friends EffectsFun & InterestingGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NotePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
I hate Money
because it makes people (& society , Humanity as a whole) very shallow & superficial these days / nowadays / today !
90% (or perhaps even more?) Majority / Most people nowadays / today seems to only think about how to make money, how to be rich (and famous), and all/everything of the notion of “success” is simply/only just measured by how much Money (or materials / materialistic stuff) you have.
Most people are so brainwashed by just that mere piece of papers, that they think almost EVERYTHING today/nowadays is & must being ‘ruled/controlled’ by that -ironically- human’s own invention !
Most people I see nowadays only talk about how to make money, make the MOST money (or profits), profitable “business” or “jobs / careers” , and even Everything about social status, Image, and even your own WORTH / VALUE (as a human being) is only just measured by how much “Money or Profits” you have made, or “success / succeed” ! that’s it! NOTHING else !
the most pressing/urgent question (for Humanity / Mankind / Civilization / Human species) then is:
so where is now all OTHER Human’s qualities such as: Love, Caring, Compassion, Empathy, Warmth, Joy, Peace, Laughter, Dreams, Sense of Adventure, Explorers, *Real* Intelligence / Smart (not just simply “sly / tricky / cheaters” or even worse “scams / scammers & snake oil” !! ) , Creativity, Imagination, and most importantly: HEART & SOUL ??..
do you hate money too ?
does anyone else hate money too ?
(google also the currently NEW proposed ‘alternative’ solutions for NEW economy / NEW system / NEW world : Resource Based Economy (RBE), The Zeitgeist Movement, The Venus Project, Zeitgeist Moving Forward (movie/film), Thrive, Paradigm Shift, Equal Income System;.. and also: Illuminati, New World Order (NWO), for those who are really curious..! )
Family & Friends EffectsGeneralI Will SurviveMy Suicide NotePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
Reality suck , Real Life suck , Real World suck . why human’s Imagination is much better & interesting than this everyday’s boring reality ??
I hate life, I hate people / humans, I hate reality, I hate this world.
its very boring, and especially nowadays become only very materialistic, money / profits driven only, all about money, superficial, shallow, and mundane boring!
Why movies, video games, comics, books, novels, anime/manga, creative Art, basically human’s IMAGINATION & fantasy is often/always a hundred times FAR much more interesting & better than this sad, mundane, boring, superficial, & very LIMITING life / world / reality ??…
does God (if there is indeed one…!) play such a cruel sick joke for especially creating human’s IMAGINATION inside our heads?? .. especially often the very creative, artistic, imaginative, and “other-worldly” artistic type of people & their fantasy, sci-fi (science fiction) works and IMAGINATION !? …
can anyone here relate or think/feel the same/similar with me?
Anyone who is interested in being part of a large movement to prevent teenage (and adult) suicides, please contact me.
I am looking for individuals to share their story on camera in order help others to overcome their problems and realize there is a reason for you to be alive!
Message me for more details please.
I am sick of the bullshit that people say to me about suicide. All are invalid or just something they say because they dont know what to say.
“it gets better” – are you personally guaranteeing that? in reality it can also and more likely get WORSE
“someone loves you stay alive for them” – If suicide is selfish isn’t demanding someone to stay for you despite their pain and misery even more selfish?
“suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem” – unless of course the problem is permanent then the solution is perfect. I dont think a temporary solution for a permanent problem is very helpful. If the problem is temporary suicide is still a solution none the less
“God never gives you more than you can handle” – I’d prefer if he would give me LESS than what he thought I could handle because Im not handling this shit very well at all
“Other people in 3rd world countries have it worse” – Oh so what you are saying is despite my own bullshit and problems I should compare them to others and be happy that their problems are worse. perfect logic.
“you can pull yourself out this slump” – this is the equivalent of giving someone a waterhose when they are on fire and drenched in oil and telling them to put themselves out.
“I didnt raise you to be weak minded” – I don’t think people can choose if they are weak minded just like they cant choose if they are intelligent its either you are or you aren’t
“suicide is murder and you will answer to god” – If this is true I will give him an honest answer. Can he be angry at me for being weak?
“suicide is the cowards/easy way out” – It takes courage to kill yourself just as much as it takes courage to live the deciding factor is which one you fear more Life or death? and it is not the “easy” way out. If it were easy a LOT more serious attempts would be completed suicides
“suicidal people dont hesitate they just do it” – this is true for some that commit suicide on impulse but most of us carefully plan our exits with consideration for others and what we want to happen after the fact.
“everybody goes thru something in life” – people go thru high school not 100% make it thru. People go thru car accidents not 100% make it thru. People go thru surgery not 100% make it thru. people go thruÂ something in life….not 100% make it thru
“what about all the future things you will miss” – Im sure I won’t enjoy my future as today was once the future and by all means I would have ended it LONG ago had I known what was to become of me and Im sure I wont miss more depression or homelessness or possibly becoming involuntarily detained in somebodies psych ward
“you wont see another sunset, sunrise etc” – Ive seen enough already
“You have so much to live for” – yes like waking up and knowing Im a fucking failure ass piece of shit who cant do shit wont be shit and will never be shit..
I cant think of anymore now but please stop saying shit like this because it doesn’t help
â€œSuicide is man’s way of telling God, ‘You can’t fire me: I quit!’â€
â€• Bill Maher
â€œWhen you’re young and healthy you can plan on Monday to commit suicide, and by Wednesday you’re laughing again.â€
â€• Marilyn Monroe, My Story
â€œWe cannot tear out a single page of our life, but we can throw the whole book in the fire.â€
â€• George Sand, Mauprat
â€œWhat’s the big fucking deal? Lots of amazing people have committed suicide, and they turned out alright.â€
â€• Emilie Autumn
â€œI simply wondered about the dead because their days had ended and I did not know how I would get through mine.â€
â€• James Baldwin
â€œShe leaves, carrying a biodegradable carrier bag that reads THE SUICIDE SHOP on one side, and on the other: HAS YOUR LIFE BEEN A FAILURE? LETâ€™S MAKE YOUR DEATH A SUCCESS!â€
â€• Jean TeulÃ©, The Suicide Shop
â€œHave you ever got to a point where you looked at your own life, thought ‘Fuck this,’ and reached for the economy-sized Valium? Ah, suicide: so dark and seductive.â€
â€• Rebecca O’Donnell
â€œShe felt worthless and hollow. There was no hope of fixing this. And when hope is gone, time is punishment.â€
â€• Mitch Albom, The Time Keeper
â€œIf you believe suicide will bring you peace (or at the very least just an end to everything you hate) you are displaying self-caring behavior. You are still able to actively seek solutions to your problems. You are willing to go to great lengths to provide what you believe will be soothing to yourself.. This strikes me as optimistic.â€
â€• Augusten Burroughs
â€œJean had the guts to kill herself, and I admire her for it, although, of course, she was quite crazy at the time, with a brain misfiring like a cross-wired laptop. Pressing the keystrokes love, the screen read die. Pressing the keystrokes survive, the screen read die. The damn thing, her mind-machine, was shot.â€
â€• Tim Lott
â€œThe debate was wearing me out. Once you’ve posed that question, it won’t go away. I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won’t. Anything I thought or did was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark: why not kill myself? Missed the bus: better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie: maybe I shouldnâ€™t kill myself..â€
â€• Susanna Kaysen
I’ve been to suicide boards before where people get on and say stuff like, “Don’t do it. Suicide is not the answer.” They don’t know the question. Or, “Life’s a *****. Get used to it.” Thanks. “Suicide is the easy way out.” If it’s so easy, why am I still here? And my favorite: “God loves you. Life is the most precious gift from God. You will break God’s heart if you throw His gift away.” God has a heart? That’s news to me. People on boards are very, very shallow. The Final Forum has a long list of topic, including: Random Rants, Bullied, Divorce, Disease, So Tired, Hate This Life, Bleak, Bequests, Attempts. Already I like this board. I start with Random Rants.
â€• Julie Anne Peters
â€œCommitting suicide essentially said to friends and loved ones and the world at large that you were the only thing that mattered, that your problems were hopeless that you deserved to escape from them and to Hell with everyone else.â€
â€• Christine Warren
â€œI didn’t realize there was a ranking,” I said. Sadie frowned. “What do you mean?” “A ranking,” I said. “You know, what’s crazier than what.” “Oh, sure there is,” Sadie said. She sat back in her chair. “First you have your generic depressives. They’re a dime a dozen and usually pretty boring. Then you’ve got the bulimics and the anorexics. They’re slightly more interesting, although usually they’re just girls with nothing better to do. Then you start getting into the good stuff: the arsonists, the schizophrenics, the manic-depressives. You can never quite tell what those will do. And then you’ve got the junkies. They’re completely tragic, because chances are they’re just going to go right back on the stuff when they’re out of here.”
“So junkies are at the top of the crazy chain,” I said. Sadie shook her head. “Nuh-uh,” she said. “Suicides are.” I looked at her. “Why?” “Anyone can be crazy,” she answered. “That’s usually just because there’s something screwed up in your wiring, you know? But suicide is a whole different thing. I mean, how much do you have to hate yourself to want to just wipe yourself out?â€
â€• Michael Thomas Ford
I have always been taught that patience is a virtue; that good things come to those who wait. I have lived on this Earth now for 18 years, I am still waiting.
My life so far has been… Gentle, in many ways. My familly are able to provide for me: I have food and a bed, I even have a little money of my own. They say that you can take a horse to water but that you cannot make him drink: though I have food I have no appetite, and though I have a bed I am rarely able to sleep. It seems to me that slowly, over the course of years, my life has simply become darker, more lonely and more painful. Many of my familly members have been ill or died, and as an only child my parents deny me isolation or personal space to Come to terms with this. A pressure has built up in my mind: I literally hear voices and cannot sleep. For no reason I can discern I have become isolated from my emotions, rarely registering anything other than a dull blanket pall of Â what I assume is depression.
Having no strength or resolve left in me I have dropped school and now spend my days staring blankly at walls. They tell me to be more sociable: I have tried sociable; 16 years of it. Other people cannot help me, many of those I have confided in have developed depression also: the nagging irrational part of my brain blames me for one of their suicides. My parents had a brief attempt to ‘sort me out’ with a counsellor, but after that didn’t work they yell at me every day: shouting that I never do my chores and that I should be more helpfull and respect my Father (who has cancer) enough to do a few household tasks. Â I want to but my limbs have forgotten how.
i now know my bedroom wall incredibly well, but with my parents threatening to throw me out I may be losing that also. They say that good things come to those who wait, that it will all get better in time. If they are lying I live only because of a lie. I want to know what ‘better’ feels like; I think I have forgotten.
My bedroom wall beacons me: I go now to answer its call.
My patience is running out: I have always thought that the wall would look better in red.
I just shouldn’t talk anymore. Whenever I say something, it’s always wrong. People laugh at me because of it and when I ask for them to stop they only laugh harder. I say things like ‘ I feel so stupid’ or ‘I’m such an idiot’ and people just smile and nod. I’m always yelled at for things I say or do. I feel like I need to do something like cut but I’m too scared to. I think they’ll find out and hurt me or send me to a therapist. I’m just so confused. I’m so alone. I’m just not okay anymore. I used to be able to deal with this but now, I can’t. It’s so difficult for me to get up it the mornings and people wonder why, it’s because when I’m asleep I don’t feel worthless, fat, stupid, lonely, forgotten, or invisible I feel nothing. That’s why I sleep around on weekends, why I never leave my room, why all I ever say is ‘I’m tired’. I just don’t like life anymore. I hate the fact that when I was little the worst things that could happen were getting sick, getting a scraped knee, breaking my favorite toy etc. I hate that goodbyes only ment until tomorrow and I hate the fact that, that entire time I couldn’t wait to grow up. Now that I’m older I realize most goodbyes last for a really long time, the worst things that happen are getting a broken heart, suicides, school and all that stuff. I literally wish I could say this to the people around me, to make them realize just how bad this actually is, but I can’t and I never will. Because I’m scared. I really hope someone will understand what I’m going through soon, but I highly doubt it.
My good, close (probably best) friendâ€™s girlfriend killed herself in October 2011. She walked out in front of a train. After hearing about her death, Iâ€™ve become obsessed. Ive been researching her story, statistics of suicides by trains, and even just watching trains pass in my free time. Iâ€™m so desperate to know if this girl felt any pain, or if she died on impact. I want to know what was going through her head as she waited for the train, and what she was thinking as she walked out onto the tracks, knowing those would be her last steps. I want to know who or what she was thinking of when she braced herself for impact, if she even did. Wasnâ€™t she scared? How could she just stand there and wait for this huge locomotive to hit her? The blinding train headlights, the blaring noise of the whistle; Iâ€™d be too afraid to just stand there and wait, knowing what would happen. How could she do that? What was she thinking? Iâ€™m so desperate to understand and make sense of all thisâ€¦
A girl who is unwanted.
A girl who’s shunned.
Where do I belong.
They tell me suicides not my only option.
But I can’t go anywhere else.
No one wants me and im already a burden enough.
I cant tell them how i feel inside.
I cant show them my scars and i cant show them my pain
Theyd never understand Â and I don’t know how to explain it to them
They’ll lock me away.
I can’t tell them how my mind is now my prison. I can’t tell them how alone I feel even when im surrounded by so many people.
How no one wants to be near me.
How its impossible that anyone to love me.
How afraid I am that even though he’s far away im still afraid and yet I still want some one to love me to hold me. To protect me.
To tell me when im afraid that he’ll never come back.
To hold me until the nightmares go away.
To love me unconditionally.
I sure fooled them. I took that precious college diploma, that winning personality, those great looks and trashed them all right before their eyes. My brain is jelly from all the pills and “treatment”, I’m about as charming as a corpse, and the scars & torn hair make me look like one too. And soon I’ll just be one of those anonymous suicides that they won’t bother investigating because they have other things to do. If the gang could see me now.
There’s been a lot of suicides lately in my town. It brings back my own depression and having no one there to vent to, I am now turning to this site to let my frustation out. I’ve been lurking and I now feel strong enough to finally let everything out. I don’t think I’ve ever told my whole story, from birth to present times, in one sitting. So here I am, this is me, and this is my story.
My mother had troubleÂ conceiving and after a miscarriage, I was born. I was her pride and joy. She wanted me to be perfect, like her; straight A’s, good behavior, etc. My dad on the other hand only wanted to see happiness. I was their one and only. They wanted me to be a better version of them and it took them years until they finally admitted the fact that I was only all their faults put together.
I was thrown into church and when I was three, began attending the church’s school. I had the best years of my life there, until I entered second grade. My mother’s best friend passed away from lung cancer. It destroyed her and I never understood her pain whenever I would hear her bawling from the other room. A month later, the day after Christmas, my parentsÂ announcedÂ that they were getting a divorce. I blamed it on my mom. I began to resent her; we argued all the time and every night resulted in tears. She began dating not even two months after the divorce. Her boyfriends were always ugly to me. They’d yell and get in my face. I remember one of her ex’s dog’s dragging me around the house by my shirt as he laughed. I was crying, bleeding, screaming, but no one heard me. My mom began mimicking his behavior, but actually gettingÂ psychicalÂ with me. She’d slap me, bite me, do anything she could to hurt me in some way. To her, I was a slut, ugly, a failure, etc. My mom was also anÂ alcoholic.
My best friend growing up was my mother’s mother. Â I never understood how serious Alzheimer’sÂ was until she punched me square in the face. I didn’t know I had lost her forever and I can’t explain how hurt I was when I went to visit her, only to have her ask who I was. The countless times I was dragged by my hair, clawed at, thrown – after all that, I still loved her. I’ll never stop.
Around this time, I went to visit my cousins. I had a male cousin, a year younger than me, who I was very close with. He pulled me into a closet, asking if he could show me this handshake him and his girlfriend did with each other. I was only around seven or eight. He touched his private to mine, not intercourse, but enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t know what it meant or why I felt guilty. A few years later, sex seemed to be what everyone was talking about. I claimed to having sex with him, because that’s honestly what I thought it was. My friend spread it around until the point the police got involved. I was almost taken away from my parents if it weren’t for my lying. I blamed it on her, saying she misheard me. I was so full of hate, I often had outbursts in the middle of class. If you’ve ever read the Bible, you’d know that if someone did something sinful/wrong, they’d stone them. The playground at our school had stones, which all the kids would throw at me since I was ‘possessed.’ Before the school year ended, the rocks had been replaced with mulch.
My parent’s took me out of that school and enrolled me in a different private school for fifth grade. That year was fine, but once I entered my first year of middle school, that’s when everything started to matter. If you wanted friends, you had to be thin, pretty, and wear all the latest trends. I tried to keep up, Â but my mom didn’t have a lot of money and I felt awkward asking my dad. I had one friend, while the rest spent their time making fun of me. I had asked why they didn’t want to be my friend, and they simply replied with “you’re not pretty enough.” I guess that’s where I got my awful selfÂ esteemÂ from.
Seventh grade, I had managed to make friends with one of the popular girls. Things seemed to be falling into place. I started going to the school’s youth group, which is where I met the first boy I ever liked. He was a drug dealer, Â a year older than me, and nothing but trouble. You could say that’s why I was attracted to him and after months of obsessing over the kid, he finally asked me out. It only took two days before he sexuallyÂ harassedÂ me and cheated on me, but I didn’t leave. Instead, I picked up a knife for the first time and cut. My mom found out, as did the school. I was once again, bullied and sent toÂ counseling. He never kissed me, never held my hand, and talked about other girls to my face. I cheated on him with my best friend, because he actually made me feel wanted. What I did was wrong, but I was so young and didn’t know anything.
Eighth grade, I ran away from my mother’s house. I guess after realizing what she had done, she called up my dad to come find me. Which is exactly what he did; I was walking from her house to his in the middle of the night. That year, I dated a new guy for a year and a half. Things were rocky at first – my cutting got to a whole new level and I developed an eating disorder. However overtime, things worked themselves out. I felt something so strong for him while he pushed me away, but when he finally gave in, that’s when my flame went out. We tried working things out after our break up, but I had moved onto someone new.
Despite what anyone says, I know for certain that I loved (and still love) this guy with all my heart. I was innocent. I had never drank, smoked, or done anything sexual. He had done it all. Even though my first boyfriend was a drug dealer, I was never around it. With this guy, I was. A month into our relationship, he moved to Florida. We continued dating and he was planning on visiting that summer. While he was away, I got drunk for the first time. I remember the night perfectly and I still to this day don’t understand why I lied to him. I told him I had cheated, when I never had. I’m almost certain that night changed our relationship forever, but he still came a month later. He was my first for almost everything, except intercourse. We were together for eight months before he returned home and we called it off. At the end of our relationship, I discovered he had cheated on me with over five different girls and actually at one point, had another girlfriend.
I tried to move on, but I was stuck in such a deep depression. I transfered to public school. Things weren’t much different, but I was popular for the first time. Even though my ex had cheated on me withÂ multipleÂ girls, we were trying to work things out once again. I had bought a plane ticket to go see him inÂ December. I wasÂ completelyÂ broken, but I tried to move on. I tried to grow from all these things happening to me. In earlyÂ November, I was raped. It took me awhile to confess this to him for fear of rejection, but before my visit, I did. He completely kicked me out of his life. I never did go to Florida thatÂ December, but spent my time cutting, drinking to the point of throwing up every night, and thinking of different ways to kill myself. My virginity was taken from me in the blink of an eye as well as the love of my life. Out of all the times I’ve self harmed, the cuts after my rape were the worst. I do believe they neededÂ stitches, but I never told anyone. They left wide, raised scars all over my arms and legs. I feel soÂ insecureÂ and ugly when I wear shorts or a short sleeved shirt. My eating disorders came back. I only ate before I drank, but it would just end up coming up at the end of the night anyways. I had sex with two guys while under the influence. I don’t remember it, but it happened.
I continued drinking heavily, drinking everyday, until I hit rock bottom. Things work out in funny ways. I ended up in a mental hospital for some time. When I came out, I felt worse, but I wasn’t drinking. It took two weeks before IÂ relapsed. I remember getting caught one night and for some reason my mom was over. All that anger came out and I was the abuser for once. I finally stood up to her. My drinking was beginning to return to normal, but I met yet another boy. I changed for him. I quit drinking, I was a much happier person, and I ended up letting him be the first person to sleep with me sober. It was hard for me, because all I knew was being raped. This guy was amazing and I really thought we would be together for years, but when his best friendÂ committedÂ suicide, I lost him. When his friend left him, he left me, and the happier version of me went with him.
I don’t have the heart to tell him that my period’s late, either.
Things right now are constant roller coaster, but I’m pushing on. I’ve gone back to drinking again and I’ve cut myself here and there, but I am trying. I’m dedicating myself to work, family, and friends.Â EliminatingÂ the negatives and focusing on theÂ positives. Life is what you make it. I don’t want to look back on life and realize that I wasted away my days. Although I wrote about all the negatives in my life, there are plenty of good points in my life as well.
I don’t know who will read this, or if anyone even will, but thanks. Just thanks for living. If you’re reading this, you may not be happy, but you’re alive. You’re breathing. You’re here on this earth. I’m still fighting and for me, please, keep fighting too.
I’ve gone through this site a bit.
I decided to join because it looks like there’s some hints of people succeeding.
I’ve never managed to complete an exit. I’ve tried to overdose, and hang myself, but somewhere along the way I get scared- I text someone I know in the back of my mind will come, or call someone who will. Someone who will talk me out of it and take care of me for a while.
Last time I overdosed I was Â stuck in kid mode. For a month my boyfriend got me dressed in the morning, made me eat breakfast, walked me to my lectures to make sure I went, picked me up, brought me home and made sure I had dinner. He’d put on a kid movie because I wasn’t able to handle any movie more complex without crying. Even some of the kids films made me cry. I’d have killed myself long ago if I were Quasi-Modo. But I suppose Catholics aren’t so big on suicide.
I slipped out of kid mode, mostly. I still struggle with getting up, but I mostly have to do it on my own. I struggle with waiting for the bus to work. If the bus stop wasn’t so near the junction and the cars weren’t so slow I’d consider jumping in front of trucks. Even just the bus. I still can’t really cope with many ‘adult’ movies. Suicides on screen made me jealous. I wish deep down for killers to come to life and end me.
But, like I said, I’m a coward. I chicken out and try deal with myself best as possible, or with someone’s help- always someone who wont tell my parents or my best friend, because I couldn’t handle that guilt.
I’ve seen a lot of helpful posts about how to successfully kill yourself, and I quite like the idea of some of them, they sound quite peaceful- I saw a suggestion of an exit bag, and another of taking a lot of sleeping pills, weighting yourself and then holding a lilo in water until you fall asleep, sink and drown. I quite like that. The idea of being unconscious before anything even happens.
But like I already said, I’m a coward. And I always chicken out because I don’t want to deal with my family and friends if it all goes too horribly wrong. I hate being told off more than anything.
Does anyone actually have any advice on how to get the grapes to actually go through with it?
â€œI have tried to view it from the interior of those who call themselves suicidal or suicidesâ€.
( WordsÂ from Jean AmÃ©ry )
I just wanted to recommend this book which i know will be of interest to many of you,
I have found it quite difficult & frustratingÂ to find serious, intelligent & quality critiques or books on other point’s of view about Suicide & this subject overall, as all i keep becoming drowned in is only the fucking Utilitarianism & Christian Inspired Philosophy which is very annoying & frustrating,
Anyway i hope some of you will check it out as i justÂ ordered this bookÂ after a final straw kind of day today.
Just to mention in passing,
Jean AmÃ©ry took his own life 2 years after writing this book.
“We Only Arrive At Ourselves In A Freely Chosen Death”
(Some Words of Jean AmÃ©ry)
“A rather long life of intimate association with death in general and with voluntary death in particular, conversations with knowledgeable friends, and certain life-determining individual experiences gave me that sense of my own legitimacy which is the condition for writing. In many places readers might misunderstand me and think that I am conceiving here an apology for suicide. Such a misconception is to be emphatically precluded. What may appear to be apologetic is only my reaction to a kind of research that pursues the subject of suicide without being acquainted with the specific human beings in search of their own, freely chosen death – who find themselves in an absurd and paradoxical situation. I have tried to do nothing else than to pursue the insoluble contradictions of the condition suicidaire and to bear witness to them – as far as language can”. (Jean Amery from the Preface). Jean Amery thought of “On Suicide” as a continuation of the kind of reflections on mortality he had laid down in On Aging. But here he probes further and more deeply into the meaning of death and into the human capacity for suicide or voluntary death. Although religion and society may treat suicide as an unnatural and absurd act, Amery claims that it is no less natural and absurd than many other forms of living and dying – and in many cases is more natural and reasonable than other alternatives an individual may face. “On Suicide” is neither a defense of suicide nor an invitation to assisted suicide, but an analysis of the state of mind of those who are suicidal and who actually do commit suicide. It is also a strident defense of the freedom of the individual and a plea for the recognition of the fact that each one of us belongs to oneself before belonging to another person, or an institution, nation, or religion and that one’s right to choose to end one’s life can have priority over social entanglements and biological destiny. As he did in On Aging, Amery approaches the subject of suicide in a series of reflective literary essays, more philosophical than they are sociological or psychological. Suicide for him is not a problem or a sickness that society and human beings need to be cured of, but a distinctly human action, in fact a “privilege” of being human, that needs to be understood on its own terms. “On Suicide” begins where academic and scientific studies of the subject leave off. “Instead of viewing voluntary death from the outside, from the world of the living and surviving”, Amery writes, “I have tried to view it from the interior of those who call themselves suicidal or suicides”.
Ever since I can remember I’ve been alone. When I was a baby my dad left and I’ve never met him, my so called mum wanted to give me to foster care but my nanna stepped in and took me in. My poppa mostly ignored me when I was growing up and he and my Nanna divorced when I was 10. I lived with my Nanna for a year. When we were living together she started a relationship with this guy and all I remember isÂ her telling me it had ended with him because I was a bad kid. Then she sent me to live with my poppa. My poppa made me lie for him, to every body that we knewÂ and tell every body that he wasnt gay, even though he was. We lived at a place that was famous for suicides for about 2 years. Ironically it was while we were living here that I first developed suicidal depression.Â At school I was constantly bashed and bullied by most of my class mates and at home my poppa and his boyfriend were always getting drunk and fighting with each other. On the weekends my poppa would send me to stay at a friend of his place. My poppa knew this friend of his was a known pedaphile and every body could tell that I was being sexualy abused but nobody tried to help me. This guy was 52 and I was 11 when theÂ sexual abuse began and it continued until I was 14. When I was 13 I was also sexualy abused every day for 6 weeksÂ by a 19 year old and a 42 year old gay couple. I’m completly straight, which makes it all that much worse.Â I moved back in with my nanna and her new husband who was violent and abusive towards herÂ and I always stood up for her. This resulted in him making her choose between the 2 of us and she chose him. Now days she claims it was to protect me but I remember what happened.Â She shipped me off to another state to live with my uncle who was on the run from the law and was on drugs. I dont know how you could call that protecting me.Â I stayed with him for a term andÂ he couldnt handle my strong suicidal depresion so he sent me back to live with my poppa and his boyfriend again in there violent relationship and once again the sexual abuse from my poppa’s friend began, until I ran away. When I ran away I went to live with my so called mum. When I was living with her I opened up about the sexual abuse and she had me make a police report, which is the only good thing she did for me. She got several copies of the police report thoughÂ and handed them out to every body she knew, pretty much. She also blamed the sexual abuse on me over and over again saying that “the report made it sound like I wanted it”. I didnt want itÂ I was 11, vulnerableÂ and was manipulated by a much older person. I wound up running away and went to live with my Uncle and Aunty. They promised they would never give up on me but the first time that I felt suicidal they kicked me out andÂ into foster care. The only good thing about being in foster care was getting to live with my little brother for the first time in my life. DCP also wound up putting me into mental hospitals a couple of times due to me trying to commit suicide. Then I got into a relationship with some body who was as misberal as I was, hoping that we could make each other happy because we understood being misberal. We had a son together. For 4 years we were together and only fueled each others misery. Then we split up and I became an alcoholic. I did alot of things during the time that I was an alcoholic that I will have to live with for the rest of my life but I wont go into them on here. I got myself away from that scene and sorted out my life. Moved into a backpackers and made a family out of my friends from there. Then I moved away and lost touch with them all. Now I have severe trust issues and I always feel alone. I actualy feel most alone when I’m around other people because I have trouble letting people in and people only see what I want them to see. I know that nobody can understand the pain that I go through and that if I let people in they would never even begin to be able to comprehend me so That would not even help with my crushing lonliness. Every body seems to think that I’m better and more than I realy am and I try so hard to fulfill their expectations of me butÂ I always feel like I fail them.Â This is the most any body will ever know about me and you people dont even know my name.
I think ive cracked something, infactÂ I knowÂ I have . As most people know men are extremely more likely to commit suicide than women. I read that 80% of suicides are men and 74% of the time it is white males.
I wonder how much this ratio has to do with the relationship between men and women sexually and love wise.Â black men are generally wanted more.
women are extremely personal in my experience and really quite unforgiving on the large.
They dont really give mankind much (no offence)Â obviously this is a generalisation, but women are usually difficult to please and for men sufferingÂ and inÂ badÂ places they really do have almost zero chance.
this means that women dont support us, not like we do them, we are simple and that works in most womens favour. IfÂ a woman is down and in a bad condition evenÂ if not physicallyÂ perfectly suiting to the eye they have a much bigger chance of finding love and a relationship and of alsoÂ being wanted for sex . Being wanted for sex probably is a reason why the female suicide rate is so low.
most suicides are undoubtedly to do with sex and love. wether its because of having it and it failing or not having it.
womenÂ dont see the beauty (physically)Â like we would do looking at a woman. this works in womens favour and it works against men.
On dating sites women get all the messages and men get almost none. some do get none even with effort putÂ in on there profiles.Â Â while women with rubbish profiles saying nothing at allÂ still get messages.Â Â how many of theseÂ guys getting no messages and no replysÂ are Â in suicide crisises?
thats just going to make it all worse
black men are seen as a more sexual figure so probably do much better by skin alone. To me that explains perfectly why its usually white men
men commit suicide far more because women are generally selfish when it comes to sex and love, if a mans downÂ and suicidalÂ he will usually have a bad self image and lack confidence because of his condition . women worship confidenceÂ so they become a part of the mansÂ unfortunate placeÂ . this is why suicide exists in this world because its aÂ negative place with alot of people who are not very caring, in my personal oppinion the womenÂ have the most fortunate and good deal by being the opposite of men .Â Â People look down too much on people who are down and this only works for the down. When i was down inÂ my worst place the only thing id recieve from most women would be bickering, critisism and disgust.
Its deffinite inÂ my eyes, men commit suicide more because of women .
I have had 3 suicides in my life. My father , his father, and then my uncle. I was only 8 at the time. It has effected me in every single way. I was in depression.. I used to have a severe phobia of dying and i will admit i also used to have suicidal thoughts, but I found something that I hang on to and that is helping people. I try to show people the light when they are consumed in darkness. I am everyones friend no matter what anyone went through or whatever mistakes they’ve made. I dont shut people out because I know very well how it feels to be alone and to have absolutely no one. i felt like the world was againest me. now i think ive found my place in this messed up world. helping people is my passion <3