29th birthday in 3 days

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by Arthur-Amelia, Oct 1, 2012.

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  1. Arthur-Amelia

    Arthur-Amelia Active Member

    and i so badly want to snuff it...

    I hate my birthday, it really sickens me. i don't deserve any recognition on that day for the horrible things i've done in my life. More than any other time of the year, this time makes me reflect on this intense loathing of myself more than anything. If there ever were a day, it'd be my birthday to grow a pair and take my last breath on this forsaken planet.

    it's been so hard to focus today, i can't think of anything but finding a way out asap...

    how do i get thru this? i guess i'll persevere thru it so i can torture myself for another year. sounds like a blast.

    :boogie: <-- this guy looks more like he's falling over himself drunk than dancing the "boogie" as they call it.
     
  2. NYJmpMaster

    NYJmpMaster Have a question? Message Me Staff Member Forum Owner ADMIN

    Not a fan of my birthday either, I look at it as cosmic sarcasm if not a spiteful reminder... in the end it is really just another day though and Thursday is will come and go and whatever self reflection that brings will pass also. I hope you make it through without feeling any worse.

    and the dancer? I modeled for that , and was not that drunk at the time....just sayin...


    Ben
     
  3. Forgotten_Man

    Forgotten_Man Well-Known Member

    One Year Closer

    I manage to get through my birthday by thinking of the positive. That is one year I am closer to death. That puts a smile on my face. One more year where my body is more likely to fail, I am more likely to die from a disease all that kind of stuff. That is how I look at that day.
     
  4. TheBLA

    TheBLA Well-Known Member

    Re: One Year Closer

    I have absolutely loathed and despised my birthday for at least the last seven of them. I especially feel that way given the fact that I was born quite premature, very weak and on the brink of death. It was only by my dad quickly rushing me to a hospital that my life was saved. For those last seven and counting years, I have just kept wishing that my had thrown my emaciated body into an open sewer in a slum near where I was born and left me there to die, as I should have. I should not have been saved.

    Each successive birthday, I feel worse as I get older, time keeps on passing by, and I barely make any progress (if any at all) in my life, in career, love, education, knowledge, discovery, etc. I may literally be the exact same as I was a few years ago, while everyone else is forging ahead and making meaningful gains with their life.
     
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