I’ve been contemplating suicide for multiple months now. I haven’t been truly happy for a long time. I feel like everyone else is doing better, dealing with problems like they’re not even there and being a lot more successful. I feel like i’m living in a bubble, floating away, not knowing where i’m going. I have no plans on what to do. I haven’t tried, but as a last resort, it intrigues me dearly.
I fantasize about murdering people pretty often. I really want to kill somebody, to stab and stab and stab and cause pain and feel anger and watch the life fade from a person’s eyes, but I know that I couldn’t live with myself afterwards. I would feel nothing but guilt and regret so I can’t ever follow through with it. I couldn’t kill an innocent person and live with myself. I did kill a deer once when I was hunting and I absolutely loved it.
I hope that eventually in my life I’m given a reason to kill someone and get away with it, like somebody breaks into my house and I can beat them to death with a bat. I’ve even started thinking about joining the military so I can get a chance to kill people and be praised for it.
Used to go to therapy for depression, never told my therapist about any of that kind of stuff because I knew I’d probably be medicated or institutionalized.
It’s weird too, because I’m a very kind and empathetic person, but sometimes I feel irrationally angry and violent and I feel like the only way to release those emotions is to indulge in violence. I’ve never succumbed to those urges though.
I don’t think I’ll make it to my next birthday. I’ve been dealing with depression and saw a therapist for awhile and everyone in my life just assumes I’m over it. I hurt them all too much the first time I told them I’m suicidal so I’ve gone back to being silent about it and only crying to myself. Someone asked me what my life goals were and I couldn’t answer them because I don’t see myself lasting another year.
When I was 5, my mom baby-sat a bunch of kids including cousins sometimes.
My cousin and I would go into my room and take turns sucking each other’s dicks. This happened many times. Another time, I was in my backyard with my older sister, and I got a boner. She saw it, and said let’s go into the tree house. We went in there, and I showed it to her, and she sucked it, and then she took her pants off, and I licked her vagina. We did this until we saw my older brother coming up to the house, and we stopped. This was the only time that my sister and I did anything, and we have never talked about it since. Not once, and never will. I will never tell anyone that we did this. Yes, we were children, and children do weird things, but yeah, obviously something I wouldn’t want to talk about.
I have very little regard for my own life. I’m not about to commit suicide because I don’t enjoy pain and there are too many people that I would affect negatively, but I don’t fear death. In fact, I often wish for my own death because of the futility that I see in life. It’s just all so boring to me and I don’t believe in a higher power that made us or focuses on us or an afterlife. It seems like a waste of time and effort to me. I often question if the happy times make up for the unhappy times, but to be honest I don’t know. The worst thing is I can’t really tell anyone because any normal person would freak out if they heard that, but I don’t think people need to. It’s just what I believe, even if I do struggle with it.
Ever since I was a child, around 12 or so, I knew I liked boys. I always had crushes on boys that age. It just seemed normal to me at that age. Sadly, as I grew older, my attraction to these boys didn’t change.
Now I am in my late 20’s, and I have no attraction to women, or men. Only boys around the ages of 7 to 12. I fucking hate that I have these feelings. I don’t what I can do to stop these thoughts. I would never want to actually hurt a child that way, but I am very attracted to them. :(
I don’t know how this happened. I grew up in a very calm, good middle class family in the U.S. No negative/traumatic experiences in my life that could cause this.
My mother killed herself when I was sixteen. We got into a fight and she said she wishes I was never born. I found her on the floor in the morning. The night before she drank a bottle of vodka and ate a bunch of pills I heard her fall off the bed. I told myself she was probably drunk and will crawl back into bed. My family members say I killed her and I feel like they are kinda right. Idk
8. There have been more times than I can count that I have been tempted to inject air into their IV lines in hopes of ending their long suffering.
I’m a registered nurse in ICU stepdowns. I often care for severely ill, geriatric dementia patients whose families insist on prolonging their life through feeding tubes and ventilators.
There have been more times than I can count that I have been tempted to inject air into their IV lines in hopes of ending their long suffering.
I haven’t. Yet.
My brother has accused me of molesting him when we were both younger—and implied that I may have been molested. I think his words were something like “Just because he did it to you didn’t make it okay to do it to me.” I have no idea if anything actually happened, I’ve tried to ask him about it later but he refuses to answer. Needless to say, our relationship as adults is nonexistent.
32, still a virgin, haven’t even kissed a girl. The thing is if you met me you wouldn’t even believe this. I’m a combat veteran, I can fabricate almost anything you can imagine. Show me a picture of something and I can build you an exact replica.
Was treated like crap growing up, never had anything close to a real friend. My family only cared about me when I screwed up, if I didn’t screw up then I was ignored. Now I’m at the point where people seem to care about me but I lack anything close to the social skills to make an actual connection with people.
The thing is I’ve reached the point that I hope that I never fall in love, get married and start a family. I’m really just waiting to die at this point. Going to war twice in some of the worst hell holes you can imagine and that didn’t even kill me, was hoping it would but that didn’t work out.
I stayed in an abusive relationship. For years.
I literally just ended it yesterday. I haven’t told anyone yet, and I don’t plan to. It wasn’t very official or very public firstly.
And it’s ironic because every time I’d see victims / survivors tell their stories I’d think how if I was in their situation, I’d always leave at the first sign, the first red flag they overlooked. I now realize, that there are no red flags. It’s a mixture of grey when you’re in it, because you are so normalized to the abuse you receive. You overlook the shitty parts because you only focus on the good side. And I don’t remember when it started, but recently, the past few weeks, no matter how good my day was, he’d find a way to bring me down and reduce me to tears.
I set a benchmark—the second he hit me, I’d leave. But now thinking back, I’d probably rationalize it too and stay. I came to my senses yesterday when I met my best friend after a month and I realized that people do like me for mez—and I deserve better than to be reduced to someone’s punching bag and a mop to wipe the floor with.
It sucks, but when I ended it yesterday, I somehow already had made the decision it was going to be over before. Did all my share of crying over picking the same person for 7 years everyday, when they never picked me back.
I tried to commit suicide when I was 17 on Christmas Eve. I had a box cutter and I made practice cuts all over my body to see if I could withstand the pain of cutting deeper than ever before. The world had no meaning for me. My life was a pit of equal parts self pity and self-loathing and I could not climb out. So I felt that there was one option left.
My dad saved my life. He knocked on my door and wished me Merry Christmas. That was enough to break me out of my trance and realize how selfish and idiotic I was being. To this day I look back and know that I will never let myself get to that point of despair again.
Because no matter how deep you are, there will always be a ladder long enough to climb out.