Venting Anyone feel like sharing their suicide letters?

[lohre2000s]

Hello.
Basically, title.

I find writing the letter very pleasing, it makes me "sure" that there will be an end to all of this eventually, and it is also a great way to balance my emotions.
Anyone feel like sharing the letter?

I will share mine for now, as pathetic as this is.

First of all, read not this letter with sadness. Nothing was lost.
I write this after taking a stroll, the one I do everyday when my thoughts reach to me. It was on this last stroll that I noticed there is no way out for me.
I will never be happy again.
I can't think of fancier words to say this, I just really believe I will not be happy again.

At school, I am already a joke. A weirdo. The ''so-so'' student.

This week, during one of my strolls I ended up meeting one of the classmates. He was with his friends. They invited me for a beer, but I don't drink. Kind.
Later, at night, I found another classmate. With another friend. This time they just shook their heads to greet me and went on their way.

The pattern was clear for me. I am always alone.I thought lohre2k could be a way for me to find happiness, a way for me to meet people like me... It wasn't. Either it wasn't or I'm rushing too much. Either way, it is all a bet. I am invisible for now. For how much longer?
No, I don't mean for my suicide to bring me any kind of "fame" or whatever. I wished for fame in life. I didn't get it.
I got nothing.
I lost mom, I lost my mind, I lost my peaceful life and I lost my skills as an artist.

I am no Gerard Way. I am no Liza Minnelli either... no suda51 and certainly no David Lynch.
I never had a chance, did I?

It's all very troubling.

I do believe I have some decent skills in some areas, but what good are those if there isn't anyone around to see them? I need external validation. Really do.

For my cousin [REDACTED], I thank for her for all the help. She's shown me nothing but kindness after my mom's death. I deeply thank her, even though ocasionally she would say some stuff that'd destroy me slowly. I am irresponsible. I am coward, lazy and stupid guy. My mom also did not get everything right, I get that. I didn't want to get that.
For my uncle, Eugenio, I also thank thee for your kindness. For a moment you thought of me for a scammer-asshole-traitor son. I get that. I didn't want to get that either.

And now, for the most important person of my life, since my mom is not alive to watch my guts torn out on the floor.
This part is for you [REDACTED]. [REDACTED], Milton, Tilapia, Samwise Gamgee, Vegeta... oh c'mon you get it. You were my brother. You know me deeply, so there is not much for me to tell you besides thank you for what was the closest thing to love I felt after mom's death. I thank you profoundly. I am sorry to do this.It is selfish.In my deepest dreams, we would meet Gerard Way, Billy Joe, and all our idols together. We would be famous together and have lots of fun.
Guess that wasn't possible this time. I am sorry. I wish I could have saved you. Do I have complaints, or regrets regarding you? Oh I do not. I do not my friend. Live your life knowing that at some point, you were loved.I wish it could be different.

For [REDACTED], I don't have much to say. I thank you for your kindness always. I could never see you as a mom, but that is not your fault. You did what you could and there was never resentment. I'm glad you are finally happy with [REDACTED].


This part, yes this one you read right now, was written a few weeks after everything that came before it. I get positive ocasionally. I met people that are kind and patient with me and I do appreciate that, it made me forget for a while how bad I truly am.
It is sad.
It is selfish and embarrassing too.
It is also very futile.

All of my suffering is result of bad luck. I dont truly believe I am at guilt for most of my disgrace, but that is even more terrifying. It feels like there is this constant force, scheming against me. Or maybe not.
After all, my "dreams" did come true.
I moved to the country I always wanted to. I managed to have the "glow up" I also dreamed so much about, yet I still focus on my misery and disgrace.




And so, it ends here. The story of the guy that achieved nothing and had everything.The story of the boy-turned-loser for eternity.
There was so much I wanted to do. I wish I was good enough.

MY SITE: No results.
MY BRAZILLIAN YOUTUBE CHANNEL: No results.
MY INSTAGRAM: No results.
MY DATING LIFE: No results.
MY SOCIAL LIFE: No results.
MY ART ACCOUNT: No results.
MY GAME DEV ATTEMPTS: No results.
MY STREAMING ATTEMPT: No results.
MY LIFE IN JAPAN: No results.
MY LIFE IN BRAZIL: No results.
MY 3D ART: Mediocre.
MY 2D ART: Bad.
MY PROGRAMMING: Bad.
MY GAME DESIGN: Good, but no crowd.
MY DESIGN SKILLS: Mediocre.



Thank you.

 

[burninghill]

Here is mine from when I was planning to attempt suicide earlier this year completely unedited.


'Goodnight SaSu PLEASE READ

My name is Jake. I am an afab genderqueer(he/she) painting student.

I really appreciate everyone who reads this and comments. This community is deeply important to me. I know this post is very long, but it was written with my whole soul.

This is my goodbye message. I will be attempting suicide between 10.50pm and 11pm BST on June 15th.
If you do not see a post from me at least 3 days after that date, then I can safely be assumed dead. I will not be logging out of any of my accounts, which means there is a chance activity will appear on this account after my death.
I will be decapitating myself on an isolated railway line, a method which should result in instant and definite fatality.

I have struggled with intrusive thoughts about hurting others since I was very young. When I was around 11-12 I fantasised about killing my sister and this is my earliest memory of these thoughts beginning. Since then, they have become more targeted towards myself and I became suicidal at 14. I would fantasise about hanging myself on a specific tree that I'd pass on the way to school. Of course, this was just daydreaming.

Over the years, I have struggled with substance misuse and a deep sense of disconnection between my mind and body. My depression became more severe in 2024 and I started to feel like I was living in the body of somebody dead. When I look in the mirror, I see the 14 year old I was all grown up, but I am not her. I have come to realise that she is entirely gone, lost somewhere deep inside me in a place where she cannot be recovered. She has a beautiful life-- loving and supportive parents, friends, a boyfriend, pets. I hope she knows that I did what I could for her, but this is not my life.
Through coming to terms with this, I have realised that the best thing I can do for both of us is to kill this body. I think that if I kill this body, we can both be released.

I believe that when I die, I will experience a momentary death before waking up as a baby again. I hope I get to be my mothers child in my next life, I think that I was always meant to be her baby.
I don't hate living, I think living is a very beautiful thing, but it is not for this person that I have become. I don't experience joy or love like I used to. Every day feels pointless and numb and I don't think that I will ever be satisfied. I imagine having everything I could ever want and still being in this pit.

I wish that I had more support for my mental health when I was younger, maybe if I didn't feel like my life was too good to be depressed then it would be easier to consider getting help. Maybe I would've stopped cutting myself when my mum found out at 15.

From a young age, I have always felt as if suicide was destined for me. I think that God knew I would die this way long before I was even born. Sometimes I compare myself to Jesus. I like to think that maybe my death serves some kind of divine purpose or will resort in a miracle for someone else. Maybe that train being delayed will protect someone.
I constantly feel like I have lived past my expiration date, like somebody is watching and waiting for me to die. Committing suicide almost feels like a very religious act for me, like how some people believe that God made them to be mothers and by raising children they are living by God's Will. I think suicide is God's will and I believe there will be a reward for me.

Maybe people in my real life could've noticed how much I was struggling before it was too late, but at the same time I cannot blame them. This is all my fault and nobody else.

I wish I could be a better partner for my boyfriend. He has endured a lot of hardship in his life and my death will be no different. He is in love with me and I think that in another life I am in love with him too. I don't think I am capable of experiencing love anymore. Connecting with people on a deep level has always been difficult for me.

I hope my mother knows how much I adore her and I hope my stepdad knows that I wish I talked to him more. I hope my sister lives a good, fulfilling life.

Truth is, I thought that having a boyfriend, sex, and a loving support system would save me, but it can't. Only you can save yourself and it is not something I am capable of.
I have given myself plenty of chances, I thought I could make things better for myself after I survived my attempt in November, but in reality I just regret not dying back then. I am a very weak person, I would rather die than try to get better.

I never saw myself writing a suicide note, but here it is.
There will be a purple USB stick abandoned with my body with around 30 diary entries from late last year, including my previous recorded suicide note and the immediate aftermath of my failed attempt in November.

I will not fail this time.

Thank you SaSu for opening me up to a community full of support and understanding. I hope you all find peace in whatever form feels right for you.'

 

[lohre2000s]

I don't hate living, I think living is a very beautiful thing, but it is not for this person that I have become.

Oh this line is beautiful

Thanks for sharing this.

 

[lament.]

In the past I had agonized over making the perfect suicide note, one that might lessen my family's grief, however after many attempts I ended up with the feeling that no matter what I write it will only cause them more pain if it's memorable regardless of my intentions. So the only note left reads:

Please cremate me.
Give my belongings to whoever in my immediate family wants each item.

 

[SoLowHollow48]

Shit. I haven't written any. Not even a draft. That's a pretty intimate letter to those who know you, though. It's warm and insightful. I hope those who are left can find at least a modicum of ease from your last message to them.

I was thinking of writing one letter for each person. Print it, put it in a pretty envelope and store it in a bag in the apartment where I'll die so when people find them, they can grab theirs (if the authorities hadn't confiscated them yet).

You implied that you designed games. Do I know any and can I know them so I can play them? Just to honor your memory, of course.

 

[lohre2000s]

Shit. I haven't written any. Not even a draft. That's a pretty intimate letter to those who know you, though. It's warm and insightful. I hope those who are left can find at least a modicum of ease from your last message to them.

I was thinking of writing one letter for each person. Print it, put it in a pretty envelope and store it in a bag in the apartment where I'll die so when people find them, they can grab theirs (if the authorities hadn't confiscated them yet).

You implied that you designed games. Do I know any and can I know them so I can play them? Just to honor your memory, of course.

Thanks for the reply and the kindness. Unfortunately I haven't finished any of em! I really appreciate the interest though

 

[Mr.Ruben]

reminds me one ive written on a piece of paper now lost somewhere in my room when there was a night I felt I could only breathe manually, weird mind game, if I find it ill give it a read here

 

[PerfectVictory]

Suicide Note:

To my parents I know you love me more than I could ever know or nor could I ever hope to repay your sacrifices, I am sorry for the immense pain this will cause. Thank you for trying your best. There is nothing you could have done to stop this. I love you.

To my siblings I know the love you hold for me and my sweetest memories were those that we spent together. Carry on. Do not let this drag you down. Live the lives I wish I could. I love you.

To the rest of my family, thank you for your love and care. I cherish the good times we've spent together and the help you've given me both directly and indirectly. I apologize that I have turned out this way. I hope you don't see your efforts as wasted. I love you.

To my friends, thank you for putting up with me. You know me perhaps better than my family. You were at times the only bright point in my life and gave me the strength to carry on. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause psychologically or otherwise. Thank you for allowing me to speak openly and honestly. I love you.

To everyone and anyone reading I hope I left a good impression on you if you knew me. Enjoy your life. Don't kill yourself.

It was good while it lasted. We eased each other's boredom for quite a while. Well, it's been interesting.

Goodbye

"And remember, suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem." - Robin Williams

(there's more below scroll)







Playlists:
[redacted]

For Apple Music people these services will allow you to transfer it from spotify ideally one person would make it then share it:
[redacted]

https://www.givingwhatwecan.org/charities/helen-keller-international please donate at least $1 (preferably more) to this charity or a similar one on this website that aligns with your values and have one other person outside of my circle to do the same including finding another person.

I am hereby instructing my dad to send the $1000 I sent him to whoever makes the most liked TikTok edit of me to be awarded a year after my death. As silly as it is I've always wanted to be in a TikTok edit.

"Anne, I don't want to live. . . . Now listen, life is lovely, but I Can't Live It. I can't even explain. I know how silly it sounds . . . but if you knew how it Felt. To be alive, yes, alive, but not be able to live it. Ay that's the rub. I am like a stone that lives . . . locked outside of all that's real. . . . Anne, do you know of such things, can you hear???? I wish, or think I wish, that I were dying of something for then I could be brave, but to be not dying, and yet . . . and yet to [be] behind a wall, watching everyone fit in where I can't, to talk behind a gray foggy wall, to live but to not reach or to reach wrong . . . to do it all wrong . . . believe me, (can you?) . . . what's wrong. I want to belong. I'm like a [person] who ends up in the wrong country. I'm not a part. I'm not a member. I'm frozen."
― Anne Sexton, Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters

Good Old Neon: David Foster Wallace PDF (cool short story 41 pages no obligation to read it but I found it profound and entertaining, it's also thematically apropos)

Never See Me Again - Kanye West (Unreleased) (If that gets taken down here's another link: [redacted] )
Tik tok if u wanna see my reposts also check out my saved collection: [redacted]

I did it because life has become no longer worth the pain and my prospects seem bleak. Both mental and physical conditions have barred me from anything remotely approaching a normal life. I know things can change and I may in the future no longer feel this way. But I don't want to wait any longer for that. I have struggled with my mental health my whole life. I think I started to fantasize about my own death to some capacity around the 3rd grade. Suicide began to really take hold my senior year of high school, not that the desire was unceasing. There were many periods in my life where I looked back and the feeling felt alien to me.

There are significant parts of what makes a functioning, capable, and content human that are irrevocably missing from me. Even if not irrevocably missing, broken to the extent that I don't have the patience to wait for a fix. I am not surprised that my impatience would be the death of me. I've always felt that my experience of life has been in some way lacking. I am deeply neurotic to the core and feel disconnected from my own life. I had hoped that with proper psychiatric or psychological treatment as well as with the passage of time I would be able to somewhat assimilate with the rest of humanity and find my own slice of happiness. Despite my concerted efforts as well as sometimes extreme methods my psychological and physical state as well as cognition have only declined. I feel an intense nostalgia for the past and the happiness that it held despite its challenges. I am deeply grateful for the good times I've had on earth and the people that made them possible. I think what really separates the haves and have-nots of the world is not a list of externals but one's own conscience experience. For a blind man the only difference between standing in front of a Monet and graffiti in an alley is the sound of traffic.

I don't really desire death even now, simply an escape. I am perpetually overwhelmed, anxiety won't let me be. I am under little false allusions that my death will lead to anything beyond oblivion. Before coming to Catholic school I was tormented as a child with the idea of oblivion. That terror was replaced with a great fear for hell until I would leave the Church more than a decade after. I don't see it as altogether impossible that there is something interesting to see after death and that idea however unlikely does excite me.

A good poker player knows when to fold their hand. I guess this is a bad time to mention that I was never any good at poker. Unfortunately I have been struggling with dystonia. I don't intend to play out a shoddy hand. I refuse to live dealing with bullshit medical issues instead of having a real life. This means even if I could deal with my mental health issues I would still be living a subpar existence. Live free or die.

I am aware to some extent the great amount of pain this will cause some people. Although I'm sure I'm unable to fully appreciate it. I don't really feel like convincing you that I did everything right. I may not have done things perfectly but I feel it is impossible to fairly judge someone else's life if you have not experienced exactly what they have.

This was no one's fault, simply a twist of fate and I don't want anyone to feel like they didn't do enough. I got more than I deserved and it wasn't enough. I don't want anyone to feel guilty or have this interfere with their lives, plans, pleasure, or productivity. I don't resent anyone and if I did resent you enough I would've told you. If you're reading this I likely loved you dearly and felt your love for me as much as I could with my deformed soul.