Someone in my self-help group described he is doing a slow suicide. He brings himself in a lot of trouble so that he is cornered one day. At the same time he said he knows that he will never go through with it. Well this does not sound like a good plan in my opinion. I think he might will be fine eventually in contrast to me.
My slow suicide looks different. I hate the notion of being cornered but I increasingly become exactly that. My slow suicide looks different. I am suicidal for more than a decade. I almost had every single day suicidal thoughts within this time period. I had different methods to cope with the pain, it were coping methods which gave me the power to swallow down the pain, for example: fantasizing about my suicide, venting in suicide forums about my nightmarish life/reading methods in detail, watching gore, connecting with other people who later committed suicide. It became more and more concrete: My plan to kill myself. The more pain I had to swallow the more did I swear to myself one day to really kill myself. After having like a million love delusions, after getting tortured at college, after getting fired....life continuely spits into my face. My determination grows and grows to go through with it. After the recent pain I bought everything I needed to kill myself and now I have it at home. Suicide becomes really real. I have the feeling I am so much into it now that there is no going back any more. I think theoretically this might be a thinking fallacy. If I hit the lottery and find a significant other. I don't know things could change. But I don't have my hopes up after all this cynical, terribly cruel and meaningless suffering that just repeats and repeats. Also the patterns of the torture just repeat and there is seemingly no escape. My brain rather flees from reality into delusions because the reality is unbearable. However, when I realize that it only was a delusion...I am in hell on earth. The pain is unbearable.
So my defintion of slow suicide is the following: in order to survive you approach death in different ways. You get comfortable with the notion to kill yourself. I love the following description. I don't know who said it. Suicides don't simply happen out of nowhere. The people wake up every single day over weeks, months or maybe years always with the thought in mind "Why not killing myself?". One day they wake up and say "Enough is enough! I have reached my limit." Sometimes something trivial can drive the people over the edge. Sometimes it seems to be irrational because something seemingly minor triggered it. But there is often a story behind that. I have the feeling with every day I wake up in so much pain. With barely any relief my brain seeks for a relief. And this is the notion of non-existence. Non-existence seems to become a gift. Similar to the story of David Foster Wallace "Suicide as a sort of present." The story is pretty intricate and I did not fully understand it but I love other stories of him.
There is another quote of DFW I think from his masterpiece Infinite Jest (?) where I can fully relate to. This might be a little bit long but it gives this thread some value:
"The so-called 'psychotically depressed' person who tries to kill herself doesn't do so out of quote 'hopelessness' or any abstract conviction that life's assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire's flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It's not desiring the fall; it's terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling 'Don't!' and 'Hang on!', can understand the jump. Not really. You'd have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling."
So damn true.
There are stil questions left. Is this process really irreversible? I don't think necessarily. But personally I think only a miracle could save me.
Are there other ways to cope? I think venting in this forum has helped me to survive so far. I think I never would have been able to swallow down all the pain in college. I would have dropped out many semesters ago. The loneliness without it was soulcrushing. But sometimes I have the feeling some people that went ahead are calling me to join them. I think they would not have liked seeing me committing suicide. And some actually told me they hope my life will have an happy end. I am ambivalent. In general I often have the feeling something inside me (probably my self-hatred) is shouting at myself to kill myself already.
The day tommorrow at college will be peak hellish. I am pretty suicidal and scared. I even considered to take a benzo but I am scared of withdrawal symptoms they were also hell on earth. Seemingly all my options are hell on earth. And in case some religions say the truth hell in the afterlife will await me if/when I kill myself. I think too much about religions recently it is not good for my mental health. It makes me so anxious.
My slow suicide looks different. I hate the notion of being cornered but I increasingly become exactly that. My slow suicide looks different. I am suicidal for more than a decade. I almost had every single day suicidal thoughts within this time period. I had different methods to cope with the pain, it were coping methods which gave me the power to swallow down the pain, for example: fantasizing about my suicide, venting in suicide forums about my nightmarish life/reading methods in detail, watching gore, connecting with other people who later committed suicide. It became more and more concrete: My plan to kill myself. The more pain I had to swallow the more did I swear to myself one day to really kill myself. After having like a million love delusions, after getting tortured at college, after getting fired....life continuely spits into my face. My determination grows and grows to go through with it. After the recent pain I bought everything I needed to kill myself and now I have it at home. Suicide becomes really real. I have the feeling I am so much into it now that there is no going back any more. I think theoretically this might be a thinking fallacy. If I hit the lottery and find a significant other. I don't know things could change. But I don't have my hopes up after all this cynical, terribly cruel and meaningless suffering that just repeats and repeats. Also the patterns of the torture just repeat and there is seemingly no escape. My brain rather flees from reality into delusions because the reality is unbearable. However, when I realize that it only was a delusion...I am in hell on earth. The pain is unbearable.
So my defintion of slow suicide is the following: in order to survive you approach death in different ways. You get comfortable with the notion to kill yourself. I love the following description. I don't know who said it. Suicides don't simply happen out of nowhere. The people wake up every single day over weeks, months or maybe years always with the thought in mind "Why not killing myself?". One day they wake up and say "Enough is enough! I have reached my limit." Sometimes something trivial can drive the people over the edge. Sometimes it seems to be irrational because something seemingly minor triggered it. But there is often a story behind that. I have the feeling with every day I wake up in so much pain. With barely any relief my brain seeks for a relief. And this is the notion of non-existence. Non-existence seems to become a gift. Similar to the story of David Foster Wallace "Suicide as a sort of present." The story is pretty intricate and I did not fully understand it but I love other stories of him.
There is another quote of DFW I think from his masterpiece Infinite Jest (?) where I can fully relate to. This might be a little bit long but it gives this thread some value:
"The so-called 'psychotically depressed' person who tries to kill herself doesn't do so out of quote 'hopelessness' or any abstract conviction that life's assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire's flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It's not desiring the fall; it's terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling 'Don't!' and 'Hang on!', can understand the jump. Not really. You'd have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling."
So damn true.
There are stil questions left. Is this process really irreversible? I don't think necessarily. But personally I think only a miracle could save me.
Are there other ways to cope? I think venting in this forum has helped me to survive so far. I think I never would have been able to swallow down all the pain in college. I would have dropped out many semesters ago. The loneliness without it was soulcrushing. But sometimes I have the feeling some people that went ahead are calling me to join them. I think they would not have liked seeing me committing suicide. And some actually told me they hope my life will have an happy end. I am ambivalent. In general I often have the feeling something inside me (probably my self-hatred) is shouting at myself to kill myself already.
The day tommorrow at college will be peak hellish. I am pretty suicidal and scared. I even considered to take a benzo but I am scared of withdrawal symptoms they were also hell on earth. Seemingly all my options are hell on earth. And in case some religions say the truth hell in the afterlife will await me if/when I kill myself. I think too much about religions recently it is not good for my mental health. It makes me so anxious.
