Idle thoughts

I've made two half-hearted suicide attempts in my life. Neither had any real probability of working, the way I did them, and I knew it at the time. I didn't think I'd actually die by doing what I was doing. But, I was serious about the idea, and I was serious about doing it "for real" some time in the future.

Thankfully, all that has been absent for the last three or four years.

But, I've been really triggered recently, and I don't know why.

I live alone now. I feel like I can do anything in this apartment, and it's unlikely anyone will even notice for days. I could so easily just die in here, and I might not have anyone concerned about me for two or three days, at the least. Maybe even up to a week, if I were lucky.

For some stupid reason, there has been a suicide in every single story I've had to read in my literature class so far. A part of me is deriving some sick inspiration from this. I read the Aeneid and realized I was envious of Dido, deadly envious. The part of me that taunts and deconstructs believed her death to be beautiful and haunting, just the sort of scene that would linger in my mind for years and eventually drive me over the edge.

There is a part of me that even finds it romantic. And you can argue about that all you want. Rage and get mad at me for even using the word "romantic" in reference to suicide. God knows I have! I fight with it all the time. I shouldn't feel that way. I don't want to feel that way. It's stupid. Suicide is horrible! etc etc.

Nothing seems to effect this part of me. How do I help myself?

I feel like it's a character flaw that pushes me in this direction.

 

I've definitely felt the same way enough times in the past (and I'm sure in the future, as well). I've fantasized about dying a horrible death too many times to count and strangely it always manages to calm me down. Sometimes I just imagine myself dying a really bloody, excruciatingly painful death as an alternative to self-injuring. Sometimes I don't even have to die--just feel unbearable pain.

I'm not exactly sure how to help you with this. If I were you, I would also be very bothered why I am the way I am, but once I've calmed down and gotten to think it over, I'd be OK with it. I'd tell myself that at least I'm not hurting anyone, and at least I'm not actually doing it. And remember, there's nothing wrong with seeing something as romantic--least of all death. If something is romantic, it just means there's something exciting and mysterious about it. And as far as I know, death is the most exciting and mysterious thing on Earth.

If it really bothers you, though, maybe it would help to have a talk with someone about it. I hid self-injury for 6 years before talking to a friend about it and I was surprised how much better I felt after telling her, partly because she didn't judge me like I feared she would. Telling a friend can really help you think things through and put things in perspective.

 

My problem is that I think I've exhausted my resources. I had a friend, we shared many of the same problems. I talked over it, talked it into the ground, talked it to death. I talked her ear off. I wore her out, I depressed her, I drained her.

I just don't want to talk about it at all anymore. And, well...quite frankly, she's the only one left. And I think she's in my life BECAUSE I decided I wouldn't be talking about it to her anymore.

Maybe people want to hear other's stories, but I've come to the conclusion that no one really wants to hear mine.

 

Tell us your story. How you feel you came to be like this. It is good to talk about things like this, it helps the mind comb through it.