N
NaughtyGirl
Member
- Oct 3, 2021
- 84
I'll be forced to tell them that I'm suicidal, that I don't know how to deal with life and that I failed to graduate (I lied to them about it). After that, there will probably be a serious talk and it's likely I'll end up crying. After that, my only hope is that they'll somehow force me to get help. It will probably take hours of talk and maybe even physical coercion to make me do anything. Otherwise I'll just keep doing what I'm doing right now, which is nothing much and then I'll kill myself next week.
It's probably dumb and naive of me to not do it tomorrow but I guess my dumb body just wants to cling to whatever hope is left. But I don't have high hopes when it comes to my parents. My mother spends most of her free time drinking and smoking. Somehow she becomes visibly drunk just after one beer or even a single glass of it. Seeing her in that state always made me feel more lonely and now it also makes me feel more suicidal. My father is more sober but he doesn't have patience. I don't have anyone in my family whom I could deeply trust, who I'd consider smart and open-minded.
Since my father called me a parasite at one point when I didn't work or study and said I should leave his house, I'm tempted to tell him that I have bad and good news. The bad is that I failed to graduate and I don't plan to go to work. But the good is that he doesn't have to worry about me using up any resources since I won't be here for much longer.
Right now it's like I don't really care what happens. I wouldn't mind getting help but I'm too anxious, too demotivated and lack energy to do anything to get it. Either they'll find a way to force me somehow or they won't. If they won't, then I'll probably just shoot myself next week when I go to a shooting range. If it doesn't kill me then hopefully I end up in a state in which I don't have any responsibilities anymore. Right now I almost feel like I'm a little bit too conscious and too aware of everything to be happy. Or maybe, before I shoot myself, I'll just continue existing in this vegetative state for a little bit longer before I eventually snap. Since I'm not doing anything productive, things can only get worse without an intervention from the outside which would be like a miracle. All it would take is one tragedy.
The fact I suffer from lethal perfectionism doesn't help either. My motivation to do things seems to be connected with my belief that I can excel at those things. When it dawns on me that it's no longer an option I became completely unmotivated to keep going. Since I become less productive the sense of falling behind becomes even stronger. It's totally a positive feedback loop and if it wasn't for my complete dissociation from the real world, I'd probably be sad and mad about how unfair and cruel it is.
I'm so anxious I actually hope my parents won't help me so that I can then proceed to CTB with clean conscience without having to go through any process that would require any effort on my side. I almost want something tragic to happen so I have an even better pretext to end it. If NASA confirmed that there was a giant meteor heading towards the Earth and that the extinction of humanity was inevitable and that the impact site was exactly where I live, that would be a dream come true to me. I'd totally heave a sigh of relief. I guess you can say my anxiety is pretty serious.
It's probably dumb and naive of me to not do it tomorrow but I guess my dumb body just wants to cling to whatever hope is left. But I don't have high hopes when it comes to my parents. My mother spends most of her free time drinking and smoking. Somehow she becomes visibly drunk just after one beer or even a single glass of it. Seeing her in that state always made me feel more lonely and now it also makes me feel more suicidal. My father is more sober but he doesn't have patience. I don't have anyone in my family whom I could deeply trust, who I'd consider smart and open-minded.
Since my father called me a parasite at one point when I didn't work or study and said I should leave his house, I'm tempted to tell him that I have bad and good news. The bad is that I failed to graduate and I don't plan to go to work. But the good is that he doesn't have to worry about me using up any resources since I won't be here for much longer.
Right now it's like I don't really care what happens. I wouldn't mind getting help but I'm too anxious, too demotivated and lack energy to do anything to get it. Either they'll find a way to force me somehow or they won't. If they won't, then I'll probably just shoot myself next week when I go to a shooting range. If it doesn't kill me then hopefully I end up in a state in which I don't have any responsibilities anymore. Right now I almost feel like I'm a little bit too conscious and too aware of everything to be happy. Or maybe, before I shoot myself, I'll just continue existing in this vegetative state for a little bit longer before I eventually snap. Since I'm not doing anything productive, things can only get worse without an intervention from the outside which would be like a miracle. All it would take is one tragedy.
The fact I suffer from lethal perfectionism doesn't help either. My motivation to do things seems to be connected with my belief that I can excel at those things. When it dawns on me that it's no longer an option I became completely unmotivated to keep going. Since I become less productive the sense of falling behind becomes even stronger. It's totally a positive feedback loop and if it wasn't for my complete dissociation from the real world, I'd probably be sad and mad about how unfair and cruel it is.
I'm so anxious I actually hope my parents won't help me so that I can then proceed to CTB with clean conscience without having to go through any process that would require any effort on my side. I almost want something tragic to happen so I have an even better pretext to end it. If NASA confirmed that there was a giant meteor heading towards the Earth and that the extinction of humanity was inevitable and that the impact site was exactly where I live, that would be a dream come true to me. I'd totally heave a sigh of relief. I guess you can say my anxiety is pretty serious.
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