My mind is slowly dying

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by Erebos, May 25, 2007.

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  1. Erebos

    Erebos Well-Known Member

    I had an appointment with the psychiatrist today, likely my last one. I sat in silence, staring blankly as he waited, expecting me to say something. I have nothing more to divulge. The truth is, I'm on the verge of completely giving up. I have no discernable feelings to speak of. Shower me with compliments, stab me with insults, show me a school shooting in the paper and it will all bounce off me as if it never happened. I do not care for my family nor "friends" and I don't not care how I affect them. Slowly, I've cut them away from my life. In fact, there's only a handful of people that I know who can positively say that I'm still alive.

    He wants to help me. I'm apparently highly antagonistic towards his advances. Why does he want to help me? What's wrong with the way I am right now, as nihility incarnated into an empty shell? I don't need help. I'm no longer depressed about the circumstances in my life. Whatever they may be, they'll just bounce off my thick skin as well. I'll never cry again in this life. If I need help, I can help myself, even if it kills me. I'm fine just the way I am:cured.

    I told him I didn't want to go back anymore and walked out before he could book me another appointment. He asked me about the Effexor (100+ mg) I'm taking right now. I told him I'd go cold turkey once the prescription runs out. From the rumours, I've heard the withdrawal will be horrendous. So be it. They called me again at home, leaving a message. I'm undecided whether to return their call. Pathetically, the psychiatrist's office is the only one who has contacted me regarding my well-being. None of my classmates, who've surely noticed that I didn't show up for my exams have contacted me. I haven't been on MSN in ages, yet not a ghost of concern from any of them. Thus, I've succeeded in segregating them from my life. Even if they did contact me, I wouldn't really give a damn. I will be a mere memory to them when they read my name in the obituary and I am now free of the attachments that hold me to them.

    My mind is deteriorating. I've grown too tired to care, to feel, to socialize, to be motivated. When school starts again, when I'm living on campus again, that will be the time I leave. If he says there's still potential and hope within me, I don't care. I have no desire to make anything of it. I am no longer a slave to death, the tyrrant who forces the people of this world to live. I have almost killed myself mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, so that I may die in peace physically.
  2. gentlelady

    gentlelady Staff Alumni

    Erebos i am sure people would notice your absence. Even at that they would be affected if you were to harm yourself. You mentioned going to the pdoc. Are their things you have not shared yet? You need to be completely honest with them if they are going to try to help. I know you probably don't like to say some things, but the longer you keep them pushed back, the harder to resolve later. Please hang in there. Fight for your life hun. It is worth it.
  3. Erebos

    Erebos Well-Known Member

    I don't need help. I don't want help. There's nothing wrong with me. I'll cut my heart out and set my body free.
  4. -Deception-

    -Deception- Well-Known Member

    I hadn't planned on registering on this forum. On and off I've just come here to read some of the thoughts plaguing suicidal people (me being one of them), but I figured I'd hover above all of it. But upon stumbling on your post, Erebos, I felt compelled to write something.

    It's almost eerie how much you remind me of myself at the moment. This morning I woke up, logged onto my blog (where I ponder back and forth all the dilemmas of this world, the constant underlying theme being suicide) and wrote an entire post about indifference. How indifference has characterized me and my being for the past 19 (soon 20) years I've wandered this earth. I concluded that I'm content with being indifferent, how I do not feel an urge to be sensitive, committed or "engaged". To sum it up: in spite of political awareness, in spite of me working for the biggest student organization in my country, in spite of me having top grades: I still feel nothing. I am so far from happy I can get, but then again happiness is an impossible concept made up by idealists.

    Anyhow, from the other side of the world (I live in Sweden) I'd just like to say that I think understand you and how you're feeling. I might not have distanced myself from my surroundings like you have, and I'm sure the grief lingering in the wake of my suicide will be tremendous, seeing how people are more likely to truly mourn when a boy who seemingly had every chance at a good life kills himself, I still feel I understand you more than I understand most.

    The reason why I'm anonymously blogging about my forthcoming suicide is not that I cry for help. I simply wish to document my thoughts and share them with people who are experiencing the same thing, maybe help them on their path towards death or life. What they choose is none of my business. I think your main post in this thread is to you what my blog is to me. Settling facts.

    The emptiness, the void, is a part of you as it is of me. Now, regardless of which final conclusion you reach, I support you to the fullest. Take care, friend.
  5. Erebos

    Erebos Well-Known Member

    Thank you for your response. It's nice to know that there are other ghosts in this world floating aimlessly as well.

    My existence is no longer plagued with the toils of work, relationships, and family. I spend every waking moment trying to rationalize myself, to no avail. The potential, the dreams, the happiness, the emotions are mere shadows of what I once was. And as the sun sets, my shadow will be no more.

    Take care of yourself too. Though oceans apart, I'll see you one day on the other side.
  6. I know this thread is old, but I had to bump it. I can’t relate to 90% of the threads here or anywhere, but this one struck a chord. Deception, your posts in the ‘never had a girlfriend’ thread were terrific. First, the comment about sitting blankly with a psychiatrist is classic. I met a walk-in therapist once, I briefly and robotically said Im unusually reclusive and would like an assessment. He told me to go to parties and be “more open”, that I should be fine. Since he didn’t directly ask, I didn’t tell him that I take all my classes online because I can’t stand to be around my classmates, I haven’t received a social phone call or email in years, and that I often go weeks without leaving my house. Sometimes I move my shoes around or leave my jacket on the sofa, so my parents think I went somewhere.

    The idea of relationships, children, or friends is all abstract to me, I speak of them the way most people speak of Pluto. A therapist asked me how I feel about myself, I couldn’t understand the question. I described my attributes based on the mirror and body language from others: 6’0 205lbs, receding hairline, displaced nose and generally unattractive features, with unusual communication and thinking processes. How I “feel” is irrelevant, this is an accurate description based on mountains of evidence. I was similarly baffled when he asked me if I ever felt loved by my parents. How do you answer a question like that?

    I’m convinced that the struggles of life aren’t worth the payoff, which isn’t guaranteed nor well-defined. We try to sum our problems into a neat package, or reduce them to a solvable size. “If I only had (girlfriend, job, car, wealth), then Id be happy!” or “once I (lose weight, get promoted, take a vacation) then Ill be ready to move forward!” But it doesn’t work like that. Life is a process of exchanging one set of problems for another, preferably one more tolerable. Humorously, the man who attempts none of the aforementioned, has no friends, no girlfriend, no money, and has no desire for such is the only one who can truly be happy.

    Rather than try 100 times and fail 99, it’s better to not try at all against such bad odds. We scold gamblers and lottery players for betting against poor odds, so why don’t we scold human beings for playing life against the same odds? To provide an example, how many females go to LA to be pornstars? Id imagine the majority of them to be failed models or actresses. All of them thought they were special, that they were due for great things, if only someone could see how wonderful they truly were. And now they’re getting DPed and eating jizz in some sleazy hotel. As I remind myself, for every 38-0 Floyd Mayweather, there had to be 38 losers.

  7. We fantasize about how great it would be to travel the world, have some exotic job, or meet exciting people, but in the end, it all becomes routine. If you want proof, ask a homicide detective, writer, pilot, or professional gambler. Everything becomes a job eventually. Drive to work for 1 hr, work 10 hours, drive home, eat, watch tv, go to bed. In exchange for 5 days of obedience you get 48 hours of freedom, which are often spent doing laundry, sleeping, fixing the roof, and paying bills.

    I’ve purposely shunned all of my former peers, I fantasize everyday about a boxing match to the death or Russian Roulette ala Deer Hunter, either you win big or die. If you win, gamble away all your money, then fight or play RR again until you lose and die. Or spend all your initial winnings on prostitutes and booze, get really drunk and peacefully walk into a lake. An ideal career would be one with incredibly high risk, and equally high payout.

    I didn’t plan on sharing my story so thoroughly, I just wanted to let you guys know there are others like you, and I wish you luck. Please continue to post here. It can seem like a waste of time when none of the replies understand you, know that some people do understand, and some people do care.
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