I Don't Want To Die

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by Jaimeisbroken, Aug 7, 2012.

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  1. Jaimeisbroken

    Jaimeisbroken Well-Known Member

    Seems like the more times my insignificant life revolves around the sun I have to fight harder and harder to fight off the urge to find a final solution to my pain. Of course I know that feeling isn't anything new here. I know nearly everyone here either feels that way or has felt that way. The knowledge of my less than uncommon predicament is a double edge sword. On one hand it means that I am not alone and I am not crazy or insane for feeling this way, but on the other hand it makes me think if so many people feel this way, just maybe the cracks in the sidewalk of life are big enough for me to slip through.

    I have never really considered myself to be a happy person, although I have been known to have a happy day o occasion. Even prior to May of 2010 when my mom was still alive I can look back at pictures of myself and the vast majority of them have a common theme, I am not smiling. The few times I am smiling is in a family photo when mom is next to me. I guess maybe it is because mom was the one person in the world I truly felt understood me. In May 2010 ye was killed in a car accident because a guy in a pick-up truck slammed into the passenger side of my dad's car. Dad, my little sister, and I watched mom as she took her last labored breaths before she was gone.

    I think my first time I had ever thought about killing myself was the summer after mom died. I was facing going through the rest of my life without mom, and facing starting high school without the guidance of my mom. I didn't try to kill myself then, in fact it would be about 15 months later before I would try. It would be just a month after I was abducted and raped by an A-HOLE that attended the same school.

    Everything just built up to a breaking point, I was the only one at home and I decided that I didn't want to live anymore. I decided that I didn't want to be a burden to my family and friends. I sat down and began to write a post for my personal blog. While I was writing my post I received a text message from my friend that left school during school hours to drove me home. She let me know that she got in trouble for leaving school and was given detention. I went into the kitchen and grabbed dad's bottle of vodka that had been sitting in the cabinet for well over a year and began to drink. I don't know if I was trying to drink away my pain, or trying to drink till I died. My memory is a little fuzzy of some of the things for the next several hours. I carried the bottle of vodka into my room along with a gun and finished my blog post with the last few lines reading, (verbatim)

    "I'm sorry for all the pain I will cause my family and friends but I can't take it anymore. I have a loaded gun and it is ready to shoot. When I finish drinking this bottle and making this post I am going to use it. Mom I will see you in 30 seconds".

    There was more to the post I made but I can't remember most of it. I remember actually looking forward to ending my life so I could see mom again. After I submitted my crazy blog post I took a few deep breaths and looked at the gun in my hand through my vodka glazed and teared eyes and raised the gun to my heart. Somewhere along the lines my little sister and dad came home. My little sister burst into my room like she always does and saw the gun pointing at my chest. She screamed for dad and he ran in. I don't remember him taking the gun out of my hand, but he told me that he had to force it out of my hand.

    This incident was about 10 months ago, and although I think I am doing better than I was then, I still often have thoughts about ending my pain. The weird thing is I know if the place I work was being robbed and the gunman had a gun to my head and demanded my boss open the safe and hand over the cash I would be the first one to say, "Give this Asshole the cash".

    When it comes right down to it I know I don't want to die, I simply want to not hurt. I also know I still have these grandiose ideas that peace of mind lies at the bottom of a bottle of pills or the receiving end of a gun. I also know the closer I get to to my 1 year anniversary, I will have more thoughts of ending the pain in a sudden and irreversible way. I have just under 1 month until it has been 1 year.

    I'm not sure why I am making this post. I think maybe I want people to tell me not to give-up and that it will get better. I'm just not 100% sure I believe it will get better.

    Sorry for this being long. I hope I made some sense. Probably not.
  2. 1Lefty

    1Lefty Well-Known Member

    I think if you can stick it out, you have a really good chance.

    10 months ago, I was where you are - I didn't necessarily want to die, but I was unbearably hurting and I thought I'd used all my options. Waiting for my death, someone intervened, and I was taken to a psych ward for 9 days. It wasn't fun, and my family was distraught, but not as much as if I had died. There was a change in my medication, a change in direction by my therapist. I still have mood swings, my life isn't wonderful, but it's better, it's survivable.

    I'm glad you're here. You're in a good place, where we will support you, encourage you, and maybe have some ideas for you.

    You can speak what's bothering you, without being judged or condemned.

    You're welcome here.
  3. TheLoneWolf

    TheLoneWolf Well-Known Member


    I know how you feel. You're right, it is a double edged sword... what kind of bothers me is, on the one hand, I do know I'm not alone... but on the other hand, how sad is it that this many people are in so much pain? The world really does seem like a cruel place and life is hard on many of us.

    Believe me, I've been there... drinking to try to drown my sorrows, putting a loaded gun to my head... not wanting to die but not wanting to hurt any more... hoping for peace in death... you're absolutely not crazy, and you made perfect sense. Many of us have had identical thoughts. I've even thought that if somebody tried to rob me at gunpoint, I'd tell him to shoot me, because I refuse to let the world take anything else from me. If somebody wants my wallet or my car, they're just going to have to kill me for it. I am going to be difficult on purpose, just because I can be, I will make my final act in this life one that makes life difficult for somebody else... you want my wallet? Fine asshole, shoot me and take it, save me the trouble of committing suicide, live with the nightmares of watching the back of my skull splatter on the wall behind me, spend the next 20 years of your life behind bars, all so that you can have the $20 I have in my wallet. Idiot. Makes no difference to me. And in that moment, upon forcing the asshole to look me in the eyes and realize that I'm not afraid to die, he may realize that he chose the wrong target.

    Sorry, I got off on a tangent there... Jaime, I am going to tell you not to give up, but I'm not going to sit here and say "it will get better" because I don't know that. I've lived with depression on and off for at least 20 years now. My life still sucks. It's not as bad as it used to be, and yeah, I have learned to more or less leave the past in the past. But I still struggle with the present and worry about the future. That's life, I guess. But I keep trudging along. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm a moron. Or maybe I'm just a stubborn bastard who is so pissed off at life that I want to stick around just to annoy it. Or maybe I'm just an optimistic fool who for whatever dumbass reason keeps convincing myself that shit is going to get better some day... which incidentally probably just proves that I am in fact a moron. But whatever. I don't care. And that's the beauty of it. I don't fucking care. Life, death, happiness, misery, whatever. This world can throw any kind of shit at me that it wants to. I know I can take it, because I always have. And so can you. You've been through hell, and you're still here. Don't let the world win. Life is a bitch... give that bitch the bird. Don't get sad, get mad, and then get even.

    I don't really know what I'm saying. I guess I'm just venting. Many of us are better off now than we were before. We're still not happy, and the potential of committing suicide or feeling that low again always exists. But so does, I think, the potential of feeling better. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it does make them hurt less. And maybe some day our lives will be filled with more good than bad. There will always be bad; that's inevitable. Life will never be perfect. But at least we can be relatively confident that the worst is probably behind us. After all, what else can the world do to us that it hasn't already?
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