BetweenRadioStations
Student
- Aug 10, 2021
- 134
This is something I wrote back on Tuesday, December 4th, 2018 in the midst of my first major depression
Why suicide?
I'm tired of the tick, tick, ticking. The constant dialing and rolling back of the tape that goes on and on with no intention of stopping. It's not my life, my life is fine. It's this irrational and erratic feedback loop that doesn't discriminate between circumstance that lives and breeds in a cesspool of thoughts that lives in my mind. It's that suffocating and intolerable force that I can't seem to beat or escape. There's no rationale behind it. It can't tell right from wrong and it looks at reality through a broken funhouse mirror. You see a smile, it sees an opportunity for an escape not granted in this realm. It's not always depressed thoughts either. Sometimes I feel fine, sometimes I'm even decent but that fucking tape and its fucking loop make it hard to stick around. You hear enough suicide methods and thoughts about ending your life and you truly start to consider. Is it really that unreasonable? Anything to stop the fucking noise! Anything to escape! And the worst part is I got people to live for and a good life. I have people who'd show up at my funeral. Life is good compared to many around the world. And what really puts the icing on the fucking cake is I know, without a fucking doubt, that it's pure madness and I can't escape. And what makes it sting even more is I can't seem to wrap my head around why I feel like this and I don't even think I'm worthy of treatment. I feel I should be able to handle this on my own. It feels like a weakness of character and it hurts. And there are times when I don't feel like this but am still scared because this state of mind emerges from the shadows with little to no warning and lays my ass out wondering what the fuck I'm going to do. It's not pitiful like it used to be. It's not this poor me bullshit anymore. I just endure it and do what I can to the best of my ability even when I can barely move. I fear the day of the perfect storm that takes me off this earth however that may be. It's not dark yet but it's getting there and I hope I find a way to fucking beat it or a least regulate the fucker. There are days and times I can't even get the words out of my mouth or get out of bed. I'm holding on for dear life with a glimmer of hope knowing that if I can just get through to the other side it will be brighter and there will be hope. Dear God, if you exist, help me now!
Why suicide?
I'm tired of the tick, tick, ticking. The constant dialing and rolling back of the tape that goes on and on with no intention of stopping. It's not my life, my life is fine. It's this irrational and erratic feedback loop that doesn't discriminate between circumstance that lives and breeds in a cesspool of thoughts that lives in my mind. It's that suffocating and intolerable force that I can't seem to beat or escape. There's no rationale behind it. It can't tell right from wrong and it looks at reality through a broken funhouse mirror. You see a smile, it sees an opportunity for an escape not granted in this realm. It's not always depressed thoughts either. Sometimes I feel fine, sometimes I'm even decent but that fucking tape and its fucking loop make it hard to stick around. You hear enough suicide methods and thoughts about ending your life and you truly start to consider. Is it really that unreasonable? Anything to stop the fucking noise! Anything to escape! And the worst part is I got people to live for and a good life. I have people who'd show up at my funeral. Life is good compared to many around the world. And what really puts the icing on the fucking cake is I know, without a fucking doubt, that it's pure madness and I can't escape. And what makes it sting even more is I can't seem to wrap my head around why I feel like this and I don't even think I'm worthy of treatment. I feel I should be able to handle this on my own. It feels like a weakness of character and it hurts. And there are times when I don't feel like this but am still scared because this state of mind emerges from the shadows with little to no warning and lays my ass out wondering what the fuck I'm going to do. It's not pitiful like it used to be. It's not this poor me bullshit anymore. I just endure it and do what I can to the best of my ability even when I can barely move. I fear the day of the perfect storm that takes me off this earth however that may be. It's not dark yet but it's getting there and I hope I find a way to fucking beat it or a least regulate the fucker. There are days and times I can't even get the words out of my mouth or get out of bed. I'm holding on for dear life with a glimmer of hope knowing that if I can just get through to the other side it will be brighter and there will be hope. Dear God, if you exist, help me now!
