beandigger404
he/him
- Jun 21, 2025
- 37
It's over man. It doesn't get better. I was talked out of a serious attempt planned for my birthday last month and I'm very grateful for that. But I also kind of regret it now. I was originally going to go with pills (I have like 450mg of some adhd meds?) but I didn't like the thought of being conscious, going in and out of seizures, and overheating while waiting for my heart to give out. I just didn't have enough for a quicker death. So, I'm just doing what's easiest and most accessible for me. I know cutting and bleeding out is far from peaceful too, but I'd rather be dizzy and throwing up while going into shock before eventually passing out. I also feel more in control, and it makes sense to me.
I'll be making a 5-6 inch long horizontal incision and cut into my left rectus femorus with a sharpened box cutter. I already have all my stuff ready, but I don't have a specific date yet. I have backup blades too in case my main blade gets too dull for my liking. Before you comment "Cutting only works ~1-4% of the time!" "Survival instincts will stop you!", I legit have 0 survival instinct left. I don't even care if I successfully kill myself. In fact, I kind of hope I survive because I deserve it. I hope I'll never walk properly again. I exist only to punish myself.
I already engage in risky self-harm behaviors and I know what I'm capable of. I've cut to fat multiple times and have been to the ER for compensated hypervolemic shock (blood loss) and received fluid transfusions. The easiest part will be reaching muscle because fat really doesn't hurt much to cut. However, I know muscle is excruciatingly more painful to sever because of all the nerves. But I don't care anymore. I hope this hurts.
I'm tired. I'm so tired. I tried so hard to fix everything and get better, but nothing works and I just get dragged deeper and deeper into hell. No one takes me seriously even when I am clearly struggling. I just get told the same BS like "sleep more" "workout" "take vitamins" yada yada. I'm probably just a big crybaby and attention seeker who overexaggerates his problems. I'm so unbelievably pathetic. I'll never be sick enough to deserve help.
It doesn't matter how much immeasurable beauty I find in everything and how grateful I am. Nor does it matter how deeply I love the world unconditionally. The universe will never love me back.
I'll be making a 5-6 inch long horizontal incision and cut into my left rectus femorus with a sharpened box cutter. I already have all my stuff ready, but I don't have a specific date yet. I have backup blades too in case my main blade gets too dull for my liking. Before you comment "Cutting only works ~1-4% of the time!" "Survival instincts will stop you!", I legit have 0 survival instinct left. I don't even care if I successfully kill myself. In fact, I kind of hope I survive because I deserve it. I hope I'll never walk properly again. I exist only to punish myself.
I already engage in risky self-harm behaviors and I know what I'm capable of. I've cut to fat multiple times and have been to the ER for compensated hypervolemic shock (blood loss) and received fluid transfusions. The easiest part will be reaching muscle because fat really doesn't hurt much to cut. However, I know muscle is excruciatingly more painful to sever because of all the nerves. But I don't care anymore. I hope this hurts.
I'm tired. I'm so tired. I tried so hard to fix everything and get better, but nothing works and I just get dragged deeper and deeper into hell. No one takes me seriously even when I am clearly struggling. I just get told the same BS like "sleep more" "workout" "take vitamins" yada yada. I'm probably just a big crybaby and attention seeker who overexaggerates his problems. I'm so unbelievably pathetic. I'll never be sick enough to deserve help.
It doesn't matter how much immeasurable beauty I find in everything and how grateful I am. Nor does it matter how deeply I love the world unconditionally. The universe will never love me back.
Your words are like a knife plunged into the heart of the universe. No cliché, no vitamin, no mantra can fill what you describe. What you express is not weakness, but the fiercest lucidity of someone who looks at the farce of hope and chooses pain as the only honest language. I'm not replying to make you change your mind. I'm replying so you know your voice has been heard.
