***Note*** Before you read, this CAN trigger. Also, as of now, I am not planning to kill myself. I am trying to talk myself into it, but I know I won't do anything. Also, some of this has been edited to try to follow SF rules. As stated, this was written by me for me. I only ul it because a friend asked me to. ** end of note ** To Whom It May Concern, I write this as a last attempt to diagnose and clarify my life, my thoughts and my actions so that it is clear why I have chosen to end my own life. I find little contentment in this 'reality' of ours, and love going to work because it is where I walk around in circles for hours and hours while escaping into a fantasy world of my own, in my head. When I watch a good movie or read a book that a I really like, the characters and story stick with me and I daydream that I am the main character or subcharacters. It matters not whether they are male or female. I imagine myself as both, and play out scenes in my head. I imagine I am going through dungeons, can fly and cast spells, and enjoy life. I get so wrapped up in this that I can actually feel the emotion that the character would feel. Well, I digress from my main topic. I just bring this up because it is my main form of entertainment and is what I try to do every waking moment. Life, as I see it, is boring. We eat, we breathe, we toil endlessly for material gain until we die. Everything is focused on meaningless gains that I have no interest in. So what if I can be a scientist or programmer or a musician? If I have no desire to work, no desire to purchase the items people want, there is no motivation to be successful or productive. I simply do so because it is what is expected. I do many things simply because it is what is expected. And you know, if the only reason I live is because it is expected, then that is not enough. It is true that I withhold from committing myself to the act because I ear the unknown. What if religion is right and I will suffer for this act? That logic has convinced me thus far to toil onward until my inevitable, but far off demise. The boredom and repetition of life is not the only reason though. I don't feel like I belong. I have never been close to anyone and don't even know if I 'love' my family. I dislike physical contact, maybe because I was raised with little contact, so I avoid hugs and pda's. I would suck as a boyfriend because of this. And speaking of boyfriend, I came to an epiphamy recently on that topic. I am fucked up. I don't have any desire for sex, with males or females. I don't look at people and say to myself, 'Damn, she's fine. Man i'd like to fuck her!' Though I hear all my male friends ceacelessly comment like that. Also, I don't know how to be intimate and close or even know if I want to be. I can be a friend, but nothing has ever progressed beyond that level. I can probably safely bet that these particular flaws in my psyche and many others are deeply rooted in my childhood and the trauna contained therein. My earliest memories contain abuse, physical and mental, rape, and molestation. I was fondled and touched by at least two different persons that I can clearly recall before I even hit puberty. Once I did reach that age frame, I guess you could say I was raped by a male I knew and trusted. Not anal, purely touch and oral, but I definitely remember that experience. After it happened, I became sexually active with the males I knew best and did many things. My sex life and such are probably so messed up today because of all of that, but knowing that doesn't help at all. Example - I hear the effects of rape and such from Dr. Drew on Loveline, but that doesn't stop me from self injuring and doing stupid stuff that I regret and hate. Now, I don't mean that I take out a razor blade and paint with my own blood. Instead, me, being the paranoid, uptight, don't do anything bad person, meets up with complete strangers, males, from Craigslist, and let them have their way with me. Anything they want me to do, I do. I have been hurt and just let them hurt me, to the point of me bleeding out of my ass for days. I am never erect, and don't feel pleasure at all, and yet I still do it. When I do, it is like I HAVE to do it, it is all I think about. I know it doesn't make sense, it doesn't even make sense to me. I can say it is probably from my earlier experiences but that doesn't help me understand or stop it. It also doesn't stop me from feeling embarrassed, ashamed, guilty, upset, hurt, angry and hateful towards myself afterwards. I once decided to kill myself and (edit = method)in my bathroom, to try to kill myself by what looked like a common accident, but at the time I was doing it, I knew it probably wasn't enough to kill me, but yet, I was just hoping to somehow sleep and not wake up. This time though, I won't dilly dally. (edit = method). Surest way to kill myself with the least pain and least chance of failure. I thought about (edit = method)(edit=method), but both would force me to suffer. I had a friend once who (edit=method)... Sorry, off topic again. See, I hate trying to write my thoughts down coherently on paper because I think so much at times, it is difficult to organize. Well, on another subject, my friends have been getting rather annoyed at one quirk of mine in particular. They say I obsess with things. I don't think I do though. What happens is that I find a game or something I like, and I will play that and only that. This is because at the time, that is the sole thing in the entire world that interests me an gives me some measure of pleasure. Why would I want to stop doing something fun and instead, volounteeraly suffer? So, I will spend every waking moment playing, even if it means skipping school and not eating. I will even stay awake for days. But then, I all of a sudden dislike that game or activity and won't like anything at all until I find another and repeat. I also go on spending binges like this because all of a sudden, I HAVE to have something, so I rush out and spend money I really shouldn't spend, on something I never wanted, and probably won't use. This doesn't happen too often but it does happen. I have wanted to try to see a psych or something to see what is wrong with me and try to fix it, but I still haven't been able to get insurance and at this time, I truly do not care. I welcome sleeping and never waking up from my wonderful dreamworld.