kovu
unendlichkeit
- Nov 15, 2021
- 82
I started my recovery attempt...seven days ago. And I'm already faltering, just shy of a panic attack and almost bursting into tears on my way home from work. My train was delayed, so I missed my connection and had an hour to talk with a friend (the one and only friend mentioned in other posts of mine) who was on the same train by coincidence. I asked him about his future plans; he talked about studying and aspirations to become a teacher. He said he had a girlfriend, which I didn't know. I came away feeling miserable, anyway. He's enjoying an amazing living situation because of his amazing parents and has amazing plans for his future, and even his friends who are more on the struggling and mentally ill side of things are all doing better than me.
Anyway, I don't wanna bemoan his life—he's a great guy, and I'm happy for him. I don't even know why I'm fixating on him right now. I started a new job last Monday, and I'm already regretting it. It's going to get more serious at the end of the month as a seminar (further, job-specific education) has been moved up (it was actually scheduled for October). Everything's going way too fast. I don't know if this is right for me, but I've never been able to identify any other occupation that would be fulfilling and accessible to me. I thought I'd use this job to make some money and move out, but I didn't know the training period would take roughly two years. Both of my sisters are doing what they love; why can't I have a passion for anything (that will also earn me a paycheque)?
I'm bad at coping and can't cut/sh right now because of my current living situation (I'm repeating those three words over and over, as though turning it into a prayer would alleviate the mental distress). Therefore, I'm writing quite a few posts as of late. I've been thinking of CTBing before the seminar starts (so, within the next three weeks) because the seminar requires me to stay in another 3-hour-away city for (circa) nine weeks. I've already missed out on each and every crucial childhood and youth experience that defines one's early years. I've been incapable of making friends since always. I can't imagine entering into a relationship/getting physical/intimate due to childhood SA. Working has a way of spurring my suicidal thoughts. What even is the point anymore? Why am I even trying anymore? I can't even find someone to chat with on SaSu, the very place where I should be able to find someone like-minded. I'd love to talk with my friend about all this, but he once discovered my...suicidality, and he flat-out told me that he'd get me hospitalised if I did anything funny. So, there's that. I have no one.
Yeah...I'll stop here for now. I must sound like a toddler throwing a tantrum, don't I? Every single thought of the future just sends me into a state of panic and despair.
...if anyone's still here and knowledgeable about partial hanging: Can you achieve a proper partial hanging position if you use a tree for an anchoring point? I don't want to go for full suspension, but I'm also stripped of any private indoor locations. I'd attach the rope to a low branch, check that it holds my weight properly (and check that it's a non-dead, healthy tree, of course), and then hang with my back against its trunk, still touching the ground. Does that sound feasible? My suicide bag's already on standby. Just a cute little Vans rucksack with a rope, some alcohol to quell any nerves, and my cutting stuff—all the physical manifestations of my non-happy thoughts.
Anyway, I don't wanna bemoan his life—he's a great guy, and I'm happy for him. I don't even know why I'm fixating on him right now. I started a new job last Monday, and I'm already regretting it. It's going to get more serious at the end of the month as a seminar (further, job-specific education) has been moved up (it was actually scheduled for October). Everything's going way too fast. I don't know if this is right for me, but I've never been able to identify any other occupation that would be fulfilling and accessible to me. I thought I'd use this job to make some money and move out, but I didn't know the training period would take roughly two years. Both of my sisters are doing what they love; why can't I have a passion for anything (that will also earn me a paycheque)?
I'm bad at coping and can't cut/sh right now because of my current living situation (I'm repeating those three words over and over, as though turning it into a prayer would alleviate the mental distress). Therefore, I'm writing quite a few posts as of late. I've been thinking of CTBing before the seminar starts (so, within the next three weeks) because the seminar requires me to stay in another 3-hour-away city for (circa) nine weeks. I've already missed out on each and every crucial childhood and youth experience that defines one's early years. I've been incapable of making friends since always. I can't imagine entering into a relationship/getting physical/intimate due to childhood SA. Working has a way of spurring my suicidal thoughts. What even is the point anymore? Why am I even trying anymore? I can't even find someone to chat with on SaSu, the very place where I should be able to find someone like-minded. I'd love to talk with my friend about all this, but he once discovered my...suicidality, and he flat-out told me that he'd get me hospitalised if I did anything funny. So, there's that. I have no one.
Yeah...I'll stop here for now. I must sound like a toddler throwing a tantrum, don't I? Every single thought of the future just sends me into a state of panic and despair.
...if anyone's still here and knowledgeable about partial hanging: Can you achieve a proper partial hanging position if you use a tree for an anchoring point? I don't want to go for full suspension, but I'm also stripped of any private indoor locations. I'd attach the rope to a low branch, check that it holds my weight properly (and check that it's a non-dead, healthy tree, of course), and then hang with my back against its trunk, still touching the ground. Does that sound feasible? My suicide bag's already on standby. Just a cute little Vans rucksack with a rope, some alcohol to quell any nerves, and my cutting stuff—all the physical manifestations of my non-happy thoughts.
