Saai
Member
- Mar 20, 2023
- 22
Hi. You can call me Saai.
I'm 23 years old.
I honestly don't really have very many people to talk to. Not about this anyway. So I thought I'd just kinda toss my feelings on here. Hope that's OK.
I didn't have the greatest childhood tbh. My mom and dad divorced when I was 3. My mom took custody of me and my brother (my bother was 10).
We had it rough. My mom barely scraped by. My dad instantly had a new wife who had a son already. At first my brother and I visited my dad on weekends. We didn't like our new stephmom. She was kinda mean, and the whole environment at my dad's house was so radically different from my mom's that, going there wasn't really enjoyable to me or my brother. Eventually we stopped visiting and I lost contact with my father, despite us living in the same town.
Fast forward a few year to my brother's rebellious phase. He was about 16 or 17 when things started going very badly for him. He dropped out of highschool and got into constant fights with my mother. There were several incidents where the fighting got so intense the cops had to be called to diffuse the situation.
My brother had no chill. When he was pissed he was PISSED. It was straight up abusive tbh. Me and my brother were very close despite this. He was a good big brother. Just got very aggressive sometimes.
Usually things like this cool down when you get older but this did not. My brother's rage kept growing. As he got older the out bursts only got worse and more frequent. There were many sleepless nights with hours of shouting, my mother crying, and me just trying to keep the peace.
It was around the age of 12/13 that my first thoughts of suicide started surfacing. I hated my life. I hated school. I was an outcast. I hated my house because the environment was unstable at best. I became an atheist around that time too. I couldn't quite understand why, if there is a god, would he have brought me into this world just live the life I lived.
My brother and his friends smoked copious amounts of weed. And inevitably, at the age of 13, I did too. This use continued actually up until I was 21. It helped me cope with everything.
Suicidal thought followed me all the way through highschool and long after. But never an attempt.
After finishing highschool I started working for my dad. This was the first time we started building a relationship since i stopped visiting him. All the while I started a bachelor's in computer science via an distance learning university.
Eventually I grew tierd of my brother. Like really tired. I started to more frequently thinking about CTB, and started considering methods that were available to me. My brother had gotten into hard drugs, like meth. Thing were just spiralling out of control to the point that I honestly could not take it anymore.
I moved to my father's house and stopped smoking weed. This was a huge change of environment. And mentally it was hard to adjust. Things were better but I never really felt comfortable. There was this insanly deep well inside me. Just filled with years and years of bottled up pain, anger and sadness. I think quitting weed made it all bubble up.
I didn't take it out on the people around me. I was not gonna be my brother. I started cutting. And that gave same wierd release. It didn't make me feel any better, but it was cathartic in a way. It started with thoughts of slitting my throat. Which needless to say I didn't do. I experimented on my arm. Skin is thicker then one might think and I could never muster up enough courage ever inflict enough damage to myself to be even close to fatal.
I eventually gave up that endeavour. I started considering overdose but never had access to enough of anything to kill me. I once bought a bottle of nootropics. These were drugs that were supposed to increase your focus levels. One night when the well opened up again, I drank the whole botte.
I was awake the whole night. Move felt strange. My mind was racing. My vision was blured. My body felt weak. Simply keeping my eyes open made me nautios. So I laid in my bed with my eyes closed determined to keep it all down. Hours passed. I truly did feel awful with moments of what could only describe as euphoria, which just cycled back to nausea.
I couldn't keep it down.
I thew up at around 5am. Allot of the pills didn't even digest properly. I'm sure if I kept it down I would have died. But my body wouldn't let me. I felt so incredibly weak for two days after. The first day, I slept all day long. The second I could barly stand.
I made another OD attempt a few months after, which honestly was pathetic l, and didn't even come close.
I just feel so insanly empty. Like life has no meaning. Like studying has no meaning. Why would I want to participate in a world that has no place for me. I have no one. I am so incredibly alone. I have no motivation to try and be sucsessful. I want to simply stop existing so I don't have to try anymore. I just want to curl up into a little ball of nothing and simply be relieved of this world.
I'm 23 years old.
I honestly don't really have very many people to talk to. Not about this anyway. So I thought I'd just kinda toss my feelings on here. Hope that's OK.
I didn't have the greatest childhood tbh. My mom and dad divorced when I was 3. My mom took custody of me and my brother (my bother was 10).
We had it rough. My mom barely scraped by. My dad instantly had a new wife who had a son already. At first my brother and I visited my dad on weekends. We didn't like our new stephmom. She was kinda mean, and the whole environment at my dad's house was so radically different from my mom's that, going there wasn't really enjoyable to me or my brother. Eventually we stopped visiting and I lost contact with my father, despite us living in the same town.
Fast forward a few year to my brother's rebellious phase. He was about 16 or 17 when things started going very badly for him. He dropped out of highschool and got into constant fights with my mother. There were several incidents where the fighting got so intense the cops had to be called to diffuse the situation.
My brother had no chill. When he was pissed he was PISSED. It was straight up abusive tbh. Me and my brother were very close despite this. He was a good big brother. Just got very aggressive sometimes.
Usually things like this cool down when you get older but this did not. My brother's rage kept growing. As he got older the out bursts only got worse and more frequent. There were many sleepless nights with hours of shouting, my mother crying, and me just trying to keep the peace.
It was around the age of 12/13 that my first thoughts of suicide started surfacing. I hated my life. I hated school. I was an outcast. I hated my house because the environment was unstable at best. I became an atheist around that time too. I couldn't quite understand why, if there is a god, would he have brought me into this world just live the life I lived.
My brother and his friends smoked copious amounts of weed. And inevitably, at the age of 13, I did too. This use continued actually up until I was 21. It helped me cope with everything.
Suicidal thought followed me all the way through highschool and long after. But never an attempt.
After finishing highschool I started working for my dad. This was the first time we started building a relationship since i stopped visiting him. All the while I started a bachelor's in computer science via an distance learning university.
Eventually I grew tierd of my brother. Like really tired. I started to more frequently thinking about CTB, and started considering methods that were available to me. My brother had gotten into hard drugs, like meth. Thing were just spiralling out of control to the point that I honestly could not take it anymore.
I moved to my father's house and stopped smoking weed. This was a huge change of environment. And mentally it was hard to adjust. Things were better but I never really felt comfortable. There was this insanly deep well inside me. Just filled with years and years of bottled up pain, anger and sadness. I think quitting weed made it all bubble up.
I didn't take it out on the people around me. I was not gonna be my brother. I started cutting. And that gave same wierd release. It didn't make me feel any better, but it was cathartic in a way. It started with thoughts of slitting my throat. Which needless to say I didn't do. I experimented on my arm. Skin is thicker then one might think and I could never muster up enough courage ever inflict enough damage to myself to be even close to fatal.
I eventually gave up that endeavour. I started considering overdose but never had access to enough of anything to kill me. I once bought a bottle of nootropics. These were drugs that were supposed to increase your focus levels. One night when the well opened up again, I drank the whole botte.
I was awake the whole night. Move felt strange. My mind was racing. My vision was blured. My body felt weak. Simply keeping my eyes open made me nautios. So I laid in my bed with my eyes closed determined to keep it all down. Hours passed. I truly did feel awful with moments of what could only describe as euphoria, which just cycled back to nausea.
I couldn't keep it down.
I thew up at around 5am. Allot of the pills didn't even digest properly. I'm sure if I kept it down I would have died. But my body wouldn't let me. I felt so incredibly weak for two days after. The first day, I slept all day long. The second I could barly stand.
I made another OD attempt a few months after, which honestly was pathetic l, and didn't even come close.
I just feel so insanly empty. Like life has no meaning. Like studying has no meaning. Why would I want to participate in a world that has no place for me. I have no one. I am so incredibly alone. I have no motivation to try and be sucsessful. I want to simply stop existing so I don't have to try anymore. I just want to curl up into a little ball of nothing and simply be relieved of this world.
