Suicide

Chronic, unrelenting nausea is truly harrowing. I've been like this seventeen years. I'm going to do what I'm going to do, when I'm going to do it.

There's not a single day in which I don't think about killing myself. My life isn't really that terrible, I occasionally enjoy it even. But I feel like a hamster in a wheel. I'm tired and I don't see any point in making any more effort. I want off this ride.

Do you live in the Pacific Northwest by chance? Lots of depressed people here

>even if you have second thoughts, you'll get stuck in this one lethal current

God, isn't that awful though? Why would you want your last feeling to be regret?

see if you can kill yourself by having read all of shakespeare and if the existential crisis doesn't kill you then you're gold

Compared to living all the time with regret?

I will buy one of your books, tie it to my leg and jump into the ocean.
The cops will rule it murder suicide if they find you hanged with a stack of the same book beneath you.

Tried and woke up in the hospital after the random chance of a family member coming by my place. Truck was in the driveway and they knew where the spare key was and it was mid day and no response to knocking was concerning since i had just gotten sober.
Back in rehab and on meds that are working this time and i feel better and grateful to be alive
Dont do it anons.
Who knows where your life could lead you, just stick it out for curiousity and if you are in pain from depression get on some meds and numb that shit.

Wrong hemisphere.

If you're so self-involved that you look around at the world and don't see anything worth living for, then maybe whatever you do is for the best.

Suicide? Never read it.

>you can become the protagonist in your life's own tragedy
that's pretty Veeky Forums

no thats pretty retarded

How old are you?

>444

27, why

where the fuck are you? Russia?

I stopped thinking of suicide not long after my teens ended. Perhaps when puberty ended is when my brain left those thoughts behind. Recently I discovered that I fucking love writing. I've been writing for basically half my life but just as a sort of hobby, basically. Now though, since August, I've been writing books. I fucking love it. Even starting to make a little money off of it too. I've found a new will to live, and it's thanks to writing.

Jesus this post depressed me like nothing else has.

Hemlock or bust.

Although if you really want to die, why not pull a string of bank robberies first? I get that this is always met with "hurr u dont understand depression boo hoo hoo", but I've spent entire days lying in bed unable to find the will to leave and it still seems like being on the lamb moving from town to town leaving a string of daring escapades behind you would be self justifying enough to merit the effort.
Just remember to save the last bullet for yourself.

>Heroin and drug addiction everywhere
>Alcoholism is central national identity
>That bitterness and resentment towards anyone who "makes it"
>Lack of sunlight most of the year

It may as well be

I don't have many financial concerns, I'll probably get by in the foreseeable future even though I won't be able to put much aside. I have a number of hobbies and topics that keep me pretty interested too. I'm not suffering from clinical depression or anything which keeps me from functioning normally.

It's just that when I step away and look at it from a distance, it becomes painfully obvious that shit doesn't add up. To stay alive and keep living my life I have to make a continuous effort. However life in general, as it seems to me, is not worth it. By effort I mean not just working the job that pays me, but rather absolutely everything from breathing to maintaining social contacts. Life is enjoyable, but not justify everything you've put at it enjoyable

Don't romanticize death, kids. Take weird depression drugs instead.

from my diary:

there's no real rhyme or reason to my wanting to die. im 18 now, headed to a 'great' college, parents can generally afford the absurd tuition, parents love me and i have a good, privileged life. it's just this ugly emptiness that bears down on me, like there's a void within me. i don't have any direction or passion and i dont feel happy no matter what i do or pursue. i still get highs when i go out (most of the time) but it always needs to be balanced out by a meaningless devastating low. i feel like i cant connect with other people; all my relationships with friends feel surface level and empty. everything feels empty. and it's an emptiness that stabs at me, turning ennui into this never-ending grating.

i thought i was just an angsty teenager and depression was a meme i subscribed to in the subconscious hopes of attaining some sort of identity or something, but it's been years of this shit and it's not getting better. i don't think it ever will. it's getting worse. i want a reason to live beyond my parents. and it all seems so clichéd you know, like this is all typical depressive younging nonsense. i’d be way more happy being depressed if it wasn’t so trendy ;)

i know that life is meaningless or at least that it’ll never be deciphered (but i don’t see why it’d have a meaning in the first place). the void is an eventuality. i don’t see the difference between entering it now or at the end of a long life. all things are nothing. people say live because it’ll get better or there’ll be at least some moments of happiness that’ll make it all worthwhile. but again, happiness seems so ephemeral and hollow. im not missing out on it if I’m dead, I’m just dead, I’m not missing out on anything, I’m not me, "I" doesn’t exist. Which scares me, but again, suicide isn’t introducing it, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t rip the bandaid off now.

I mean I can’t and won’t because life goes on and my parents would be forever destroyed, but I just feel chained to a malignant nothing.

Huh, to me having all these hobbies and passions are what makes life enjoyable and worth living. The strive to improve the current situation. Honestly, right now my situation is kind of bad. Technically I'm homeless. I'm living in a shelter though it's a pretty kickass one. I had to do quite a bit of hitchhiking to get here and I was lucky to find this place right away, but I was ready to sleep on the streets if I had to. Now though, there's another place lined up which is nice and quiet with friendly people who by the sounds of it aren't doing drugs. I'm going to get some temporary help from the government while I look for a job, and once I get said job (which shouldn't be hard; the place is downtown and there's lots of stores nearby) then I can start paying my own way, and eventually I'll get my own 1-bedroom apartment.

Seriously, the smallest and cheapest apartment I can find. All I need is heat, electricity, a home phone, and internet. I can even do without a bed; I've done it before. A simple job to pay the bills, and a place to call my own in which I can write to my heart's content. Continue self-publishing. I've got 5 books written in the past 7 months and 2 days, and so far March has been easily my most profitable month because I've already averaged over a dollar a day but the month isn't even over yet. I continue to do promotions with KDP Select, I've gotten a decent little marketing strategy down, and so yeah, I'm getting things done to improve my situation.

The key, it seems to me, is to have purpose. Those two little syllables can make all the difference in the world; purpose. I tried to make the Military my purpose, but it didn't work out. Now, in writing, something I've been just doing for fun for about half my life, I've found my purpose. Writing. I've been told by two individuals now, two individuals that I knew nothing about just a month ago, I've been told by them that I have talent in writing. One is a retired English teacher, and the other is someone who is very passionate about survivalism and is something of a connoisseur of zombie literature. Both of them inspire me greatly.

My first book, Living amongst the Dead, is free today and tomorrow for the eReader/Kindle version; March 28th and 29th. Check it out if you want, hopefully you'll like it! It's absolutely free until the 30th, at which point the eReader/Kindle version goes back to its standard price of $0.99 US.

Living amongst the Dead
amazon.com/dp/B01M7S2Z0R

One of my students committed suicide on Sunday. Not the sort of thing I'd like to contribute to the glorification of.

>Extreme self-awareness
>Comparing self to others
>Lack of meaningful identity
>Accepting nihilism as truth
>Worrying about what the parents would think
>Description of life and people as empty
Your diary is the penultimate postmodern millennial masterpiece.

bet your shitty """"class"""" made him do it

Patrician style.

either a mix of ketamine/opiates in the desert at night or gunfight with the cops.

Don't see how any of this is glorification.
People who have never contemplated suicide seriously are really fucking weird. Such off-base opinions of it all.

The student has become the master. You could learn something from him.

No, the picture I included is patrician style.

OP here, honestly think 'm swayed. Opiate overdose in the desert at night. However I'd really want to do it in the sahara preferably so thats not readily available unfortunately

January 23rd It's cold enough that I won't last long on the high mound up next to Red Gate. I think I've got enough breath left in me to make it. I'll just lie down and stare at the sky. Feels right.

I hope they'll do well. I hope no harm comes to them, from within or without. Did my best to prepare them with the last notes. Said something kind about each one of them, what makes each one special. Told them "The Father" was pleased by their kind natures and that it would be up to them to handle things on their own from now on, that I'd be silent but still watching and still caring.

Lying, then. Oh yes.

Lied to you, Char. And Alex. And Sylvie. Told you I'd be with you forever. But I wouldn't go back and unsay it once if I could.

What was the point of it all? So many failures.

But I never forgot your face. Or Little Nut's. Or (sorry) Sylvie's. They used to say that happened after a while but it never did for me.

Maybe the only point of all that living was to keep those pictures in my head going for as long as I could. It was the only life I could give you. Not a day went by without.

It wasn't choice. I chose to die again and again. Just never did. Body had its own drive.

Well, the little ones will need it. Species will need it if it's to continue. That blind drive onward.

I wish them well. It's been a gift to me, at the end of it all, to behold innocence.

Goodbye, Zion.

Randall Dean Clark Feb 5th, 2053 - Jan 2124

was thinking about doing this, but i got fat from all the beer and had to quit

but nobody gives a fuck about your tragedy, and you should only kill yourself if you have a good, poetic reason, killing yourself because it's "cool" for edgy teens is not very Veeky Forums

you should, bro, it dates from the time when you could make footnote jokes about horse fucking while doing a statistical survey of suicide. durkheim's fun.

>beer

cheap whiskey is where it's at, that or vodka

>Killing yourself for poetry
Fag

what would be a good, poetic reason?

love?

>caring what other people think about your life
i mean i didn't really care, i was moreso thinking it as a culmination of my lifes experiences for me and only me.

What other people think about me dying is what keeps me from doing it.

If you really feel like committing suicide then what's stopping you from doing what you want in life? Why take away all those years then? That's what's always stopped me. pleb///

elaborate?

>penultimate
Did you mean "ultimate"?

No, that would be my diary.

Very good

shoot up a mall or something, and then wait for the cops to kill you

Penultimate, if memory serves, basically means "the one before last" or "the one before the end". For example, Christmas Eve is the penultimate day before Christmas. December 30th is the penultimate day of the year since there's one more day after it, and once New Year's Eve ends, then the year ends.

I'm too pussy to hang myself because I'd be bluntly aware of the pain.

Just need to find your purpose in life, that's all. A little purpose can go a long way for a man. Try writing a book, see how it makes you feel. Doesn't matter what it is, and doesn't matter if you try publishing it or not. Just try writing one.

I was thinking narrative epic poem, but I will try

rhyme and meter are heavy burdens however

Look up long drop hanging.

The objectively most Veeky Forums method of suicide is by flipping a ute of burning dead prostitutes into a crowded kindergarten, finishing yourself off with a shotgun if necessary.

This is going in my diary btw i very much enjoyed it :)

18 is still young. Statistically people are at their unhappiest around 23.

You're still in the meme phase, everything you wrote is trite.

Yeah, I realize that which is the root of even more bleakness. I feel nothing I can accomplish at this point can go beyond banality or cliché.

I have the same issue. It makes a good narrative if you figure out how to overcome it however. Wallowing in it isn't interesting unfortunately.

Yeah, I'm semi-ironically working on my philosophical treatise on overcoming this nihilistic deconstruction that ultimately lends itself to the most truth for its own analytical purposes but fails in the grand scheme of (for example) Platonic truth which echoes through actuality and derives a certain meaning. The mindset of cliché is ultimately accurate but circular in that it solves itself because it's a sound loop of logic that one cannot exist with as ideology because it espouses classification and constant comparison--too self-aware for its own good, no happiness can take root in the flux. We have to pursue some axiomatic contradiction to embody a life-fulfilling philosophy/ideology like say Christianity which has the leap of faith that logic fails to explain and we attempt to submerge to the subconscious. But we need the detached feeling of banality in life's triteness to liberate us to choose an ideology to subscribe to that will ultimately benefit us for the better based on what you're best "suited for."

If that makes any sense.

I'd like to take someone special with me

>seeking a more terrifying and deserved end

look nigga i get the suicide thing and that's your choice, but you should really stop castigating yourself. unless you killed like 60 people you don't really deserve that type of pain. just pick something simple

don't understand the appeal of needlessly dramatic deaths. a gun in the mouth while standing on a high ledge would be my way out.

Sounds like you're thinking too much. Why are you so attached to logic? It's just a tool to serve your survival instinct. There's no point to any of it. What exactly makes an axiom irrational? There's no criteria to judge it as such without accepting the axiom that makes it irrational.

You're also making a lot of blanket statements about psychology. Have you looked into Jordan Peterson? He'd be right up your alley judging from what you wrote.

Most people don't have this issue. They find meaning in their lives from irrational axioms, but it's not thought out that far. They have kids and feel satisfied. They work meaningful jobs and feel good about them. It's a feeling. Analytics can only take you so far, because they remove subjective experience. They try to turn the subjective into something objective for analysis. But meaning is inherently a subjective experience. It's just a product of your biology. If you were high on heroin right now you wouldn't be having this issue. You're not going to think your way out of it. The reason you think you can is because your mind is in love with itself: the archetypal conception of evil.

Meaning is just a feeling. You can feel things by thinking, and you're trying to thin your way into the feeling. That's a very limited approach, all things considered. Volunteer at a homeless shelter, help people in some way and look at their faces. You'll feel something if you're not a sociopath. All those people will be dead soon, yourself included, and the whole exercise is pointless. Thinking that during the moment won't take away the feeling however, which is all you're chasing.

Where does the feeling come from? It's a byproduct of evolution. Evolution follows some patterns we can recognize, but it doesn't nessecarily have to conform to some logic we can understand in a philosophical treatise.

Something like Christianity, although I would make the case for Christianity specifically, is pragmatic. By that I mean, it's good enough for people to use to get that feeling you're chasing. If you can't buy into it, that's fine. But at the minimum you must go beyond the rational. It's an inherently flawed medium for pursuing meaning. It tries to become totalitarian in your psyche, even though it's just a tool of baser urges and was never meant to rise that far. You ought to put your rational mind back in its proper place, subservient of some will, pick one arbitrarily, and sublimate the rest of your being in service of that will. Christianity is a proven way to do this, although it really doesn't matter.

Again, Jordan Peterson covers a lot of what you said. I'm sort of paraphrasing him.

Probably a way that looks like an accident. It's easier for people to deal with.

There you go; go for it.

I legitimately have no idea what that means.

Though if either of you are interested, my book Living amongst the Dead is free today (March 29). After today, the Kindle/eReader version will be returning to its standard price of $0.99. I've found purpose in my writing, and after writing that first book which I've wanted to write for literal years (a nitty gritty and realistic take on the zombie survival genre with heavy emphasis on realism and survivalism), I just kept writing. I'm not 5 books in, including a sequel for Living amongst the Dead (Living amongst the Dead: Dark Days), and I look forward to continue writing. The only reason I'm not is because, sadly, I'm quite sick and so don't mentally feel up to the task. The vast majority of feedback I've gotten has been positive, even though just about nobody that I know in the real world knows that I'm a self-published writer, or if they do, they don't know hat I've written. It's written under a pseudonym; J N Morgan isn't my real name. Perhaps someday I'll open up and tell my friends and family about it, but for now, I wish to keep working on it on my own.

It feels like my entire drive for life is put into my writing. If for some reason something happened and I was physically incapable of ever writing again, it would be such a loss that I truly do believe that before long I would consider suicide.

> kill yourself for poetry

you must be really bad at poems

Suicide is for cowards. I have no empathy for you cockroaches who are too afraid to live

21 here, can relate, guess I'm fucked for life

I remember reading somewhere that among people who survived suicide attempts, a common 'last thought' is 'shit, that was a dumb thing to do'.

fentanyl

>fentanyl
nembutal

also, suicide/death do not stop unhappiness

Starve yourself to death.
Stay hydrated, but refuse food.
That should give you enough time to consider whether or not it's worth doing.

Fuck no it won't be. ODing on pills is extremely painful. Imagine your body rejecting everything inside of it, going into survival mode frantically attempting to escape a threat inside of itself