Before I begin, I’d like to make a few things clear : I’m not trying to elicit pity in any way, I won’t be explaining what I’m going through, and I don’t want any kind of help. Also, suicide and depression are extremely heavy topics, which I’m allowing myself to talk about as someone who’s personally affected. I don’t want to talk about it or receive any dms regarding it ; I just want to let off steam. If you’re sensitive, please don’t read any further , it will only upset you. Also, if you’re not feeling well, seek help, talk to someone, and don’t read the rest of this long monologue ; at least I hope it won’t influence anyone, as I’m aware of the weight of my words.
These last four months have honestly been hell. Of course, all over the world, people are going through atrocities that are surely worse than mine, but the fact is that it’s affecting me to the point of being diagnosed with depression.
Throughout my life, I have happily helped many people to recover from this illness, because most problems can be solved and there is almost always hope. Personally, I have none left, i was hugely disappointed by certain people, and it really got to me
I’ve always been a thoughtful person ; I take a step back, I question myself, I’m careful, but when nothing works even when you’re doing your best and everything just gets worse, it’s hard to keep your head held high. I tried to sort things out on my own and it might have worked, but in the end it didn’t, and I don’t want to look for solutions anymore; I’m giving up.
Over time, I’ve built up a hatred towards myself that I never could have imagined. Being overly careful or making excessive efforts has led me to believe that everything is my fault, even though I know there are things I can’t control; my way of thinking often makes me blame myself.
I thought about going into more detail, but I think it’s too gruesome
I’m worried about the impact it ( this text ) might have on others ( i don't want anyone to think the same way as me regarding suicide ) ; I realise, in fact, that it’s impossible to put my thoughts into words , it’s far too complex. I also tell myself that this post is pointless and that I’ll delete it in two days’ time; so many questions , whatever
I can’t wait for it all to be over; I don’t see it as something sad, but simply the end of a long cycle of joy that shouldn’t even have existed. A few weeks ago, I tried to slit my stomach open with some sort of butcher’s knife? Which ‘unfortunately’ or ‘fortunately’ didn’t work – I don’t know – and here I am again, writing. It all pisses me off; I had loads of plans, ambitions, and I think I had some potential, but I can’t seem to get anything done anymore.
I’d like to thank the people I’ve spoken to recently about anything and everyone else for everything, whether it’s recent or not. I don't know where am i going with all that , will see. Take care