Hanniewants2die
Member
- Apr 27, 2025
- 23
Hi, it's unusual for me to make so many posts, but honestly everything is falling apart in such a different way that it's overwhelmingly incredible, I don't know if in a positive or negative way. It feels horrible and overwhelmingly pleasant at the same time. I don't know if anyone has ever felt like this… I don't want to feel like I'm going crazy, but I'm lost. And it's not something I can tell just anyone, but maybe this isn't as rare as I think.
I'll try to describe it just as I felt it at that moment; it was probably two hours ago… And now my head feels terrifyingly empty, I don't know how else to explain it.
God, this feeling is disgusting, so much that it makes me want to vomit. I've never felt so much disgust toward a feeling until now; it's truly repulsive.
That impulse to end everything mixes with a lot of pleasant sensations that have nothing to do with suicide, as if I were dying, as if all my memories were passing through my body but through sensations instead, it's so disgusting… I feel so disgusted I want to disappear, you feel me?
All the sensations turn into a blur in my chest, and thousands of voices and sounds from memories blend together into noise that is pleasant, disgusting, and overwhelming. This feeling is impossible to describe; it's like a collapse I can't express.
I want to die right now, but the lack of a plan stops me, because I'm not stupid enough to do something impulsive that might not kill me but could leave me with permanent damage, but this feeling is genuinely overwhelming… I'm sure it's not alcohol, drugs, or cigarettes, because I've never been around any of that stuff, so that worries me even more.
Anyway, the main feeling I had at the beginning of all this was disgust, then it twisted into a kind of incredible joy, then calm. It's as if the wires in my brain melted. The only thing I want to think about is suicide; somehow it looks so different now, not as a sad way out, but as a truth that's gentle, like a caress… I don't know if that makes sense, and maybe I'm getting too poetic and cheesy, but I don't know how to say it more plainly.
It feels like when the wind hits you after being under a blazing sun for too long; I just want to think and talk about it, even though obviously I can't. I recently watched The Summer Hikaru Died. It has nothing to do with suicide, but somehow it was enjoyable to watch — not in the objective sense of "it's a good story," which it is, but in how anything that resembles me becomes distorted into a kind of permission, a confirmation that I'm doing the right thing. It's really strange, and no matter how hard I try, I can't let it go.
I hope I didn't sound too weird, but I genuinely hope I'm not the only one.
Thanks for reading if you did.
I'll try to describe it just as I felt it at that moment; it was probably two hours ago… And now my head feels terrifyingly empty, I don't know how else to explain it.
God, this feeling is disgusting, so much that it makes me want to vomit. I've never felt so much disgust toward a feeling until now; it's truly repulsive.
That impulse to end everything mixes with a lot of pleasant sensations that have nothing to do with suicide, as if I were dying, as if all my memories were passing through my body but through sensations instead, it's so disgusting… I feel so disgusted I want to disappear, you feel me?
All the sensations turn into a blur in my chest, and thousands of voices and sounds from memories blend together into noise that is pleasant, disgusting, and overwhelming. This feeling is impossible to describe; it's like a collapse I can't express.
I want to die right now, but the lack of a plan stops me, because I'm not stupid enough to do something impulsive that might not kill me but could leave me with permanent damage, but this feeling is genuinely overwhelming… I'm sure it's not alcohol, drugs, or cigarettes, because I've never been around any of that stuff, so that worries me even more.
Anyway, the main feeling I had at the beginning of all this was disgust, then it twisted into a kind of incredible joy, then calm. It's as if the wires in my brain melted. The only thing I want to think about is suicide; somehow it looks so different now, not as a sad way out, but as a truth that's gentle, like a caress… I don't know if that makes sense, and maybe I'm getting too poetic and cheesy, but I don't know how to say it more plainly.
It feels like when the wind hits you after being under a blazing sun for too long; I just want to think and talk about it, even though obviously I can't. I recently watched The Summer Hikaru Died. It has nothing to do with suicide, but somehow it was enjoyable to watch — not in the objective sense of "it's a good story," which it is, but in how anything that resembles me becomes distorted into a kind of permission, a confirmation that I'm doing the right thing. It's really strange, and no matter how hard I try, I can't let it go.
I hope I didn't sound too weird, but I genuinely hope I'm not the only one.
Thanks for reading if you did.
