![Øystein](/data/avatars/l/17/17463.jpg?1596121215)
Øystein
Can't cope
- Apr 24, 2020
- 81
I have been suicidal since the age of about nine with almost no rest. Every month and year since then it has never changed. Being suicidal is my whole life and essence and I am no longer a human.
I have been on this forum for much longer than many of you. I am a life long coward.
However, from when I was a child, I was never really afraid of death itself. I always thought that dying still has to be more pleasant than living. All the methods I planned from the age of 14 were chaotic and bloody. Train. Jumping. Shotgun. Fast, foolproof. I fantasised about them for many years while still running away from actually living. Somehow I got to where I am now, and although things in my life improved, every night I still go to bed thinking of suicide. But while I found complete comfort in planning and imagining what it's like to end myself for the many years, I no longer possess this ability. Death as a concept petrifies me. When I think that I should hang myself, I become physically sick. When I imagine my close ones seeing me dead, I bang my head until it bleeds from the stress of it. Ať this point death is no longer my comfort fantasy, Im more scared than ever to die, and scared as much as always to live. It has been a downward spiralling torture. I feel like my instincts are holding me hostage and this has been the worst state of existence I have come to know.
I have been on this forum for much longer than many of you. I am a life long coward.
However, from when I was a child, I was never really afraid of death itself. I always thought that dying still has to be more pleasant than living. All the methods I planned from the age of 14 were chaotic and bloody. Train. Jumping. Shotgun. Fast, foolproof. I fantasised about them for many years while still running away from actually living. Somehow I got to where I am now, and although things in my life improved, every night I still go to bed thinking of suicide. But while I found complete comfort in planning and imagining what it's like to end myself for the many years, I no longer possess this ability. Death as a concept petrifies me. When I think that I should hang myself, I become physically sick. When I imagine my close ones seeing me dead, I bang my head until it bleeds from the stress of it. Ať this point death is no longer my comfort fantasy, Im more scared than ever to die, and scared as much as always to live. It has been a downward spiralling torture. I feel like my instincts are holding me hostage and this has been the worst state of existence I have come to know.