ThisIsGoodbye
Member
- Apr 15, 2023
- 37
TLDR: I've come to terms with my death, and I feel peace. I would just like some suggestions on finding some easy SN and Anti-Emetics in Australia, or perhaps hearing other methods that are similar and painless, so that once I know that the few people I love and care about will be okay, I can move on.
Hi, i'm a 23yo Aussie boy who has come to terms with, and is ready for the end. I'm not looking for sympathy, it doesn't help. I thought I'd get what my life has been like out there incase anyone was interested. I thought I'd put the TLDR up the top for the main things I was hoping to know, as I know most people aren't going to want to read this much. It also might feel good to get it all out.
I was born into a middle class family, who had a set of Grandparents that were rich, but very stingy with money, and a set of grandparents that weren't rich, but gave so much love, that it means the world. I lived with my sister, my two brothers and my parents. And things were okay. They weren't amazing, but they were okay. I remember lots of fighting between my parents and my rich grandparents but I don't remember what for, and having an Aunty who I knew I detested from a very young age. And that was my life pretty much at that time. The only other things was that I used to have breakdowns at Shopping Centers sometimes, and would get very overwhelmed and had a hard time when someone told me no. My school life was uneventful, I mainly stuck to myself, and would get bullied occasionally for being a nerd and smart.
My second last year before I left Primary School to go to high school, one of my teachers sat down with my parents and suggested they took me to a psychologist and get me screened for some things. Mainly ODD, BPD and the big one, Autism. And yeah. turns out I had Aspergers. It made sense. Everything came together. No one told me at the time though, but I knew something had happened. I knew something had changed. My parents changed. They'd get frustrated before when i'd have my outbursts or breakdowns, but now they'd get angry. They started to treat me like a burden. And I didn't figure out why until I was going to start high school. They sat me down and told me. Why i'd been put on meds at 10, what I had. And I did research and it made sense. All of it apart from being a burden. It wasn't something I could help, something I could control, and yet that was how it was. And it confused me. And it hurt. My loving grandfather passed away just before I was diagnosed, and I thought for a bit maybe it was my fault. It took me a while to realise logically that it couldn't be.
After my Grandfather passed, we moved my Grandmother down to live in a home closer to us so she could be properly cared for, and we could see her more often. We'd go and visit her after school every other day. And she'd always take an interest in what I was enjoying, even if she didn't understand. She was the only one in my family that I felt any love from at that time, and every moment I had with her, i'd cherish. One day, on my final year of Primary School, I'd had a really bad day and had an attitude with my parents. We went to go and see my Grandmother, and I talked to her, and things were good. My parents got annoyed at me snapping back at them though, and sent me back to the car. I didn't get to say goodbye, just got sent to the car. That night my Grandmother passed away. I never got to say goodbye. It still haunts me to this day. I know she's at peace now. It still is my biggest regret in life. Around this time, my older Brother had moved out a few years ago, and cut contact with us. I don't know if he's dead or alive. And on top of that, in a few months, I was starting at a new school. And so I got worse, and the way I was treated got worse. I started at my new school, and didn't fit in. My Parents had used the money from my Grandparents to send me and my brother to a private school. Around the same time, my sister moved out after having a massive fight with my parents. And so my first year at school went awful. And my parents got worse. I'd go to school with bruises, because whenever i'd have a breakdown, instead of trying to understand, they'd restrain me. When I was in a state that bad, I wouldn't feel the pain as it happened. I felt it after though. I'd go to school with bruises, thankfully in places most people couldn't see. The first red flag was when I went to school with a deep gash above my lip from where my Dad threw a plastic pool toy at me, and split open my face. Around half way through the year, i'd already felt more lonely and abandoned then I ever had. I didn't really have friends, and I didn't fit in. I'd get bullied. I mentioned to someone that maybe it would be better if I ended my life, and that was of course the only time someone paid attention to me. I got excluded from school, and had to go to a new Psychologist to try and get better. I missed out on camp, and I was the talk of the school when I got back. And of course that didn't help my parents attitude. I did my exams from home, got good marks, and spent the rest of my days either studying or when I had nothing to do, playing Video Games, mainly Arkham Asylum. And even though things were bad, I still tried to see the positive. I still smiled. When I got back, I was already the talk of the school, and to make things worse, the score i'd got on my exams got me an achivement on assembly. And I had to get up in front of everyone. And I felt their eyes on me, and I heard the whispers. And I realised that it would be better if I didn't stick out. So from that point forward, I didn't try. I didn't need to pay attention to pass. I just needed to put a tiny bit of effort in, and i'd be ignored on that front. And it worked for the most part. I didn't want the attention. I wanted friends, but I didn't want people to point and gawk at me. And so that was how high school was for the most part. In the later years, when puberty started to hit I started to get crushes. And I'd always try. I'd always wanted to be loved. To be in a relationship. Most of the time i'd get laughed at, or other not great answers. When someone says the worst thing they can say is no, they obiviously forget they can say 'Ew, no'. Other then that, I got bullied quite a bit, and kept to myself. I had a single friend, and it was great. It just always felt like he never wanted to be friends with me for me, but because I would listen to what he'd want to talk about, and i'd keep my mouth shut about things he didn't care about. I tried to get him out of his comfort zone and participate in activities. Help him get out there, but it never worked out. In my second year of high school, I went to school with stitches on my arm from where my mum hit me with a knife. And I ended up having to see the school counsellor. I'd never told anyone what happened, I always made a stupid excuse. But they obviously figured something was up. They sent me to see a third Psychologist. At this time, my parents were dishing out for two different psychologists, and the anger was growing. Nothing else really notable happened in high school until my final year. The occasional bullying, and getting beaten up at times. I'd never hit back. At this point in time, my anger had started to dissipate and whenever i'd feel anger, it would tire me out and just turn to sadness. But I still tried to smile.
3 years before I graduated, I got fed up of one of my teachers. My favourite subject, the only one I really applied myself in fully was I.T. And I really enjoyed it. My teacher didn't teach us, just expected us to teach ourselves. So I reported him and he was forced to go off and do courses for whatever reason. And that was fine. He came back around a year later, and didn't change much, but at that point, I didn't see the point in reporting him again, as my time at school was almost over.
My final year, I started to deteriorate. I realised that after school finished, i'd lose my pattern, my routine. And it was important to me. My grades started to slip lower then I liked, but where still enough to pass. All I needed to do was pass I.T. Which wasn't a problem. I love I.T. I taught myself Java, Javascript, Python, Html and C++ in my spare time. I really enjoyed it. I wanted to learn to code games. But I still was stressed about my routine going away. And I think most people could tell. I looked tired, i'd start tearing up at points, and I got very quiet as the year went on. I'd forgotten about formal/prom, and I wanted to go with someone. So I asked. Not 1 girl, but 6. All said no. So eventually I asked 2 girls from another school that I got along with to go to walk ins with me. They couldn't actually go into the event, but I thought it would be cool. I bought them Corsages, rented a nice fancy car, helped buy their dresses, and it was nice. I was the first to go in. And people actually seemed nice, and like they were proud of me. And then shit hit the fan. Someone called them prostitutes, and asked how much I paid them to come with me. And I could tell they were hurt. And I was hurt. I left early. I didn't go into my formal. I couldn't. I felt defeated. And I knew my parents knew how upset I was, and how hurt I was. And instead of supporting me, my mum texted some of the other mums and told them how disappointed she was in me. And it hurt. But i'd always tried to be lenient with my mum. My dad was abusive. And so I could understand some of how she was, or thought I did.
Fast forward a couple of months to graduation. I was sad, but I thought maybe things would be okay. That I could do this. I got through it, I survived. There was lots of tears, lots of sadness, but at the end of the day I was proud. I did it. And once i'd had time to settle to get used to the lack of routine and adjust, maybe I could go to University. I wanted to go for game design.
Unfortunately, that would never happen. I had a really bad fight with my brother one day, in which he retorted with 'well at least i'll graduate'. I was confused. I did graduate. I got through it. But as it turned out, the school and my parents had had a meeting. I hadn't graduated. I hadn't passed. I'd failed I.T. Not because I got a bad mark on one of my assignments, or made a mistake. Because supposedly I hadn't submitted it. It was a public speaking assignment. I remember doing the assignment. My I.T. teacher was there, my learning support teacher was there. I had the speech on my computer. I gathered all the proof I could that i'd submitted it. Its all done online, so they could check that I had submitted it. And they did. I took all the proof I had, and went to the school. They couldn't get in contact with the old teacher. he just hadn't turned up for work the next year. They'd had to drag one of the retired teachers back to take his spot until they could hire a new teacher. And no one thought this was weird. And after all the evidence, the fact i'd never forgotten to submit an assignment, they came to the conclusion that the decision that was made was correct. Because I supposedly hadn't submitted a physical copy, and that was required. But I knew I had but there was nothing I could do. And so I failed high school. And no one was going to tell me. This meant that University wasn't much of an option for me. Not for what I wanted to do. And getting a job became even more difficult with the combination of not passing high school, and having Aspergers. There isn't really any protection for people with what I have over here, and so most people would prefer not to hire someone thats different.
At this point, my mental state had started to deteriorate significantly. I went from smiling and laughing, to staying in my room and keeping to myself. Looking for a job. I still smiled though. I still tried to stay positive. But it was hard. I fell back into playing Video Games as a crutch. It was the only thing that I really enjoyed. That and reading. Minecraft was a big one for me. And I met a group on a server. And I had friends after such a long time. And there were tough times, but I had friends. And I smiled, and laughed and tried to be funny. And then I made a mistake. I fell in love. There was a girl, and she was beautiful. I will refer to her as M. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. And I felt very strongly for her, but she was with someone else, so I kept my distance. I didn't want to ruin anything. But eventually they broke up. And we started to talk. And she made me happy. And I thought I made her happy. But little did I know that, it wasn't me that made her happy, it was what I did for her. What I bought her. What I gave her. And when she didn't need me anymore, she got rid of me. Told me I was annoying and clingy. She knew how I feel. And even though we never made it official, we talked about the future. What she wanted. How she wanted to get married. What sort of house we'd get. And then she ripped my heart out. And I broke. When she left, she took part of me with her. The part that smiled and laughed. And everyone knew.
I'm not a big photo person, but the photos from before this, my smiles were genuine, they reached my eyes. People would always compliment me on my smile, even if that was the only thing they'd compliment me on. After this, I didn't smile for so long. I went and stayed in the psych ward for a while. I couldn't talk to people. I couldn't reach their. Eventually I managed to do that. But it took long time. And I still didn't smile the same, or laugh the same. The best way I can think to put it is one of my old teachers said that you could see a certain mischievousness, and happiness and hope. But now they looked empty, cold, and sad, and my smile didn't reach my eyes anymore. I'd started to realise that I couldn't be the way I was. There was always sadness. But eventually I got back in touch with an old friend. And they invited me to a new group. And I made a really close friend. And some other friends. And I was happy. Things were rough, because when I got close to this person, going on joke Animal Crossing "Dates" that were just us hanging, someone else that liked her started messaging me, telling me he was going to hurt me and to stay away from her. And of course, I was worried about her, because thats not a normal way to react, and she thought I was trying to keep her to myself, which wasn't the case. She was cool yeah, and we flirted, but that was it. Eventually she realised, and things were okay. She left the group and invited me to her other group where I met some nice people. And in that group were 2 very important people. One was someone that I tried to become friends with. And they kept getting shy and going away. But I kept trying, because I wanted to be their friend. And eventually it worked. And we became close. He was a brother to me. An actual brother. And I loved him more then anything.
The other person was someone who went by they/them. For the purpose of the recount, I will refer to them as J. J and I got close. We got really close. we hung a lot, called a lot, spent a lot of time together. And I started to get feelings. Nothing like with the previous person that hurt me, but feelings none the less. But I thought they had a boyfriend. And so I just let the feelings sit there, and grow. And eventually to be fair to them, I decided to tell them, so nothing awkward would be between us. And they told me they reciprocated those feelings. And I was happy, but I didn't feel comfortable with them having a boyfriend. And so we continued to hang, until eventually I had the courage to ask about their boyfriend. And they said they were having a break from each other. And so I asked them out. And they said yes. And things were good for a few days. And then things got sexual. I had told them when they talked about sending pictures, that I would be happy to receive pictures, but I wouldn't feel comfortable sending pictures at all. And so one night, they sent me pictures because they wanted to. And then they asked me for pictures. And I told them I wasn't comfortable still, and that I was sorry. And I thought they would accept it. We'd talked about it, and they'd seemed accepting when I said I wouldn't. But instead, they guilted me. Made me feel bad. Played on my insecurities. And because of what happened with the last person, I was scared to screw up. I still blamed myself for what happened. With the constant shit from my parents growing up, being told everything was my fault, I grew to learn to apologise as an instinct, even if it wasn't close to my fault. I was scared to screw this up, so eventually after they played on that fear, I did it. And once they knew they could, they didn't stop. It went from pictures, to calls to other things i'd rather not discuss. And then eventually, even though they made me happy, when I was away from them, I wasn't looking forward to being back with them, I'd spiral. I'd cry, i'd keep to myself, and i'd get very quiet. And eventually, I found out that they were still with their boyfriend. And I didn't get angry, or hurt. I used it to break up with them. I told them I didn't want to be in a relationship like that. I wasn't comfortable with helping someone cheat. It went against all my morals. And they agreed to stay friends, but they kept trying to get back with me. They even told me their partner had agreed to be in a Open Relationship so I wouldn't have to worry about the cheating. I said no. And eventually, when they realised they wouldn't be able to, that they couldn't use me to satisfy them sexually while their boyfriend was away because he was in the Marines, they left me. And it hurt. Since the other person had left, i'd developed extremely bad Trust and attachment issues. Losing someone destroys me. And I broke. I attempted several times, which hadn't happened since M left. They all failed. But my two friends were there for me. And things were hard, and I was a wreck. And then, when things started to get better, I received a message from non-other then M. And I broke again. It felt like torture. It wasn't fair. It said she was sorry. That she still cared about me that way, and that she wished she hadn't done what she did. And it sucked. My friends told me not to message her back, not to trust her. I'd told them about her eventually. I took a lot to get the strength to talk about it, but I trusted them. And so I wasn't going too. But the pain was so much. I had never drunk before, and had never wanted too, but I started to abuse it bad. For a house full of people who don't drink, we had a lot of alcohol around.
And so I started to drink. I'd drink late into the night, pass out, and wake up the next morning and start drinking again. And one night, I had a lot, and I messaged M. And we started talking. And something seemed up. Even drunk I could tell, and so the next morning, when I woke up, the first thing I did was message her. Ask her how she was. Try and get her to tell me what was wrong. And she did. She was in a relationship. She had a fiance. But he was abusive. He put his hands on her. Put his hands around her throat. And I freaked out. I was scared she would die. And so I tried to help, without getting attached. I didn't trust her. I couldn't trust her after what she did. Even though I still loved her, I couldn't trust her. But she saw that. And she just tried harder. She told me she'd always loved me, that she still did. That she was scared of hurting me, and that I meant too much to her, and thats why she did what she did. And so my walls broke down. Not fully, but enough for her to get back over. And she did. We spent everyday together. She told me she loved me. She told me what I meant to her. She'd tell me she'd want stuff, and use ways to get me to get them for her. And I did. She talked to me about marriage. About the house she wanted. How she wanted to kiss me and hold me. How she couldn't wait until she broke up with him so she could be with me. And the stuff about her fiance being abusive was true. I'd seen proof. Everything else wasn't unfortunately. She obviously decided she had the strength to leave him, but she didn't want me there when she did. She told me she was staying with him, told me he'd changed before telling me things that made me worry even more. I'd been nothing but supporting. Never forceful, never angry, just what she needed. When she had days she was a mess, I was there. She was in a different country, so our time zones were really different. I wouldn't sleep for days to look over her. Make sure she was okay. Days when she couldn't talk because he was there or was so upset, i'd sit and send her memes and cute pictures because she said they made her smile and feel better. And I was an idiot. Her last words were "I wish i'd never told you anything". She was always hurtful. She blamed it on her BPD, but that wasn't what it was. She was just nasty. And I spiralled again. It felt like a repeat of the hell I went through last time. And I didn't want too. So I attempted again. And I felt it working this time. I could feel it happening. And then my friend who was pretty much my brother messaged me and convinced me to call an Ambulance. And I wish I hadn't. I really wish I hadn't. But he did. And so I went to the hospital, for the second time because of M. And I learnt this time. It also made me worse. I was on edge, I couldn't trust anyone. But I didn't love M anymore. There was nothing there. And that helped make the second time easier. I healed, I had problems, but I healed. I got casual Christmas work over here at a Video Game store. And I enjoyed being surrounded by something that I loved. Even though my enjoyment of them had waned, I still loved them and knew a lot about them. And I did a really good job. At least I thought I did.
It helped with the loneliness as well. Around the same time M came back, my Friend who was as close as a brother started dating someone. And they started spending less and less time with us, until eventually I might not hear from them for weeks. My other friend started dating someone around when I started training for work, and so they weren't around much anymore either. So the work helped. I threw myself into it. I tried my best. I was always friendly. And I supposedly was doing really well. I even had kept I had Autism from them until I had the job, and they seemed supportive, asking what they could do to help. And then, the day after Christmas over in Australia is called Boxing Day. And it is the biggest day for sales in the country. Kind of on the same level as Black Friday for America. And I was supposed to be working. And I can't deal with crowds. It overstimulates me, and makes me break down. Thats why I would break down at shopping centers when I was little. But I went, and I tried. And they knew my condition, and that I'm not good crowds, and they out me out on the floor. And I ended up having a pretty bad break down, and having to leave early. And the next shift I had was my last. They said it was nothing to do with it, but it was. I'm not stupid, and I know when people are lying. And it hurt me. At this point, I started feeling empty, and destroyed. And what was worse, I came back and my friends were both pretty much not there at all anymore. And it was like a nightmare. I'd lost everything. But my friends still talked every now and then, and I had them. And eventually one of them started a group with some other people they knew so we could play games on weekends. And it never really happened. But there were a few times. And I met someone amazing, who I shall label C. And C was lonely like me. And C had problems. And the few times I posted in the group asking if anyone wanted to play, or venting about how I was feeling, they were always there to message and say the sweetest things. And I wanted to be their friend, but after everything I was scared of approaching people directly. So I put things in the group to start discussions with them. One time I was trying to put a shelf in my room, and I put my arm at a really awkward angle and tried to lift myself up. I ended up dislocating my arm. I had my phone to listen to music while I did it, and so I went to look up how to pop it back in and call an Ambulance. But I thought about it, and I put something in the group, and they responded. And eventually got up the courage to ask them If I could DM them, and they said yes. And we became really close friends. Which was part of the friend who was as close as a brothers plan probably. Because when he found out we'd become friends, he became distant. He didn't mince his words. He fought with me about a game I bought that he didn't support, and knew how much it hurt. We agreed to leave it, only for him to like tweets saying anyone who plays the game is a horrible person. Which hurt. But eventually we sorted it out.
C invited me to a group with their friends. And It was nice. We played games, they invited me to play with them, and I joined. I had fun. I enjoyed the company. There was a little bit of an incident about 2 months after I joined, and the group split into 2, but it was okay. We all gathered around someone who was hurting because of what had happened. I still talked to my brother friend, not as much, but we still talked. And I was glad they were there. I sent them stuff for their birthday. I spoiled him, like I always try to do. And meanwhile, while I waited for them to arrive, I hanged in the group. Played games in the group chat. And I met someone who I shall call K. And I got a crush. And it was dumb. But I talked to my friends, and they encouraged me. Told me i'm good. And so I went to try, and found out they were going to start dating someone else. But I still wanted to try and be friends, because they were cool. So I got close to them, and we hung. And I fell hard. I felt something I hadn't felt since M, and a feeling I never thought I'd feel again. But I wanted them to be happy. And so I hung with them, and we spent time together, and we were happy. Around this time, my brother friend's presents had arrived. And he hadn't said anything. Nothing. I messaged him. Nothing. And I was destroyed again. I was really hurt. I took a drug cocktail, not thinking. I said goodbye to my friends. I was sad, but I thought they'd be better with me gone. But I came back, and let myself heal. I went to the hospital, got checked up on, and it was okay. A few days later, the person K had been wanting to date got back together with their Ex. And she was hurt. So I stayed with her. I spent the night on call with her. I stayed by her side. I told her it would be okay. I believed it would be. Shes strong, amazing, beautiful. And we hung more and more. And I could tell she felt something. It wasn't like M. I could tell she wanted to be there with me. And so I asked her out. And she said yes. And I was so happy. And she was happy. We talked and played and laughed and cried, but we were happy. And I made sure I always tried to do what was right. This was my second relationship. And I was so happy. She made me see a future, something I never thought i'd ever have. We were inseparable the first few days. Eventually she wanted time to herself, and I was happy with that. She made new friends, and spent time with them, and I was happy. I supported her. One night, things got sexual, and this time I wanted it. I was ready. I was scared and nervous, but she was worth it. And I thought it went well. The next day seemed normal enough. She went to hang out with some friends, I was okay with it. I got up, went through my morning routine came back and was doing stuff. She came back, and said she wanted to hang. So we did. I had bought her gifts earlier that morning, I bought us a game to play together. And we started to play, and things were fine. We talked, she told me she loved me, that she was happy we were together, that she'd never leave me. And then 10 minutes later, she asked if we were moving to fast. I told her I didn't know. I asked what she thought. Nothing. I asked her what she wanted. Nothing. I asked her if she wanted to take a step back, if she needed some time or some space. Nothing. I asked if she wanted to break up. And she just said i'm sorry. We left the call, and my mind was empty. I didn't understand. When we started dating, we both agreed that when it ended, we'd stay friends because we needed each others friendship. I messaged her and asked her to please talk to me, and tell me if something was wrong. She said every other relationship she'd had, they'd talk a bit everyday and that was it. That she thought we were moving to fast. And so I said we should take a step back. And she said she didn't think she was ready for a relationship. And I said thats okay, that we can take some time. And she went silent for a bit. I told her it would be okay. She then came back and told me she'd hurt me, that two anxious people don't work together. I tried to tell her we work well together. That we were both happy. That we both enjoyed the others company. And she told me that she was bad for me. I told her she wasn't, but she wouldn't listen. She started talking like she was leaving, and not coming back. I tried to reason with her, but she stopped responding. And then eventually, I messaged her to say good night, and that I hope she is feeling okay, and found out she'd blocked me. She left me. I still didn't know why, it was all so confusing. I bought myself a bottle of vodka and got trashed. My parents found out though, as I still lived with them, and got angry. Aggressive. I didn't even bother telling them about what I was going through. The last time I tried talking to them was after what happened with J. My mother told me it was my fault, and I should have known better. The only other conversation we had about anything serious was when I got home from the hospital trip after the second M incident, when she asked whether me doing it was worth the attention. I don't discuss anything with them anymore, they just use it to belittle and bully me, never to understand or try and help. They took the alcohol and got rid of it. I don't care about the money, I don't need it. It was what I had saved to go and see K. The past few days had been torture, until late last night.
I realised that life isn't for me. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I try and help people, I always get hurt. I'm never enough. I came to terms with dying. That I will finally be at peace. That I will be able to rest. This life has been nothing but pain for me since a very young age, and I can't smile or laugh like I used too. I only get hurt. K came back earlier today, and said she was sorry. That she wants to be friends, but nothing more. That she was sorry for leading me on. And she told my I was too clingy. And it didn't make me sad. It just made me realise that what I came to terms with is correct. I want to make sure my friends will be okay once I'm gone, and then I want to rest. My games don't bring me joy anymore, I just play them to pass the time. I wanted to go on a date before I die, but I understand i'm unlovable. This world is cruel to me, and it doesn't matter. I've never been on a date, never had a first kiss, i'm still a virgin. I wanted to try and feel real love before I left. I had something close, but the real thing is never for me. And I understand that now, and It's time for me to rest.
If anyone is still here after that short novel, thank you for reading. Sorry if it was boring. Again, I don't want sympathy, it won't help. I've looked into the SN method, but I can't seem to find a reliable source for it in Australia anymore. I've also researched some of the other methods, and the Partial Hanging makes me nervous, and the Painless drowning seems good, but I'm worried about being found. If anyone has any tips or advice, i'd really appreciate it. While i'm still here, I want to support as many of you guys as possible. I think we deserve the right to choose to end it. The people that say it gets better are either lying, or gullible. It doesn't get better for everyone. Feel free to reach out if you guys want any support or have any ideas. Thanks again.
Hi, i'm a 23yo Aussie boy who has come to terms with, and is ready for the end. I'm not looking for sympathy, it doesn't help. I thought I'd get what my life has been like out there incase anyone was interested. I thought I'd put the TLDR up the top for the main things I was hoping to know, as I know most people aren't going to want to read this much. It also might feel good to get it all out.
I was born into a middle class family, who had a set of Grandparents that were rich, but very stingy with money, and a set of grandparents that weren't rich, but gave so much love, that it means the world. I lived with my sister, my two brothers and my parents. And things were okay. They weren't amazing, but they were okay. I remember lots of fighting between my parents and my rich grandparents but I don't remember what for, and having an Aunty who I knew I detested from a very young age. And that was my life pretty much at that time. The only other things was that I used to have breakdowns at Shopping Centers sometimes, and would get very overwhelmed and had a hard time when someone told me no. My school life was uneventful, I mainly stuck to myself, and would get bullied occasionally for being a nerd and smart.
My second last year before I left Primary School to go to high school, one of my teachers sat down with my parents and suggested they took me to a psychologist and get me screened for some things. Mainly ODD, BPD and the big one, Autism. And yeah. turns out I had Aspergers. It made sense. Everything came together. No one told me at the time though, but I knew something had happened. I knew something had changed. My parents changed. They'd get frustrated before when i'd have my outbursts or breakdowns, but now they'd get angry. They started to treat me like a burden. And I didn't figure out why until I was going to start high school. They sat me down and told me. Why i'd been put on meds at 10, what I had. And I did research and it made sense. All of it apart from being a burden. It wasn't something I could help, something I could control, and yet that was how it was. And it confused me. And it hurt. My loving grandfather passed away just before I was diagnosed, and I thought for a bit maybe it was my fault. It took me a while to realise logically that it couldn't be.
After my Grandfather passed, we moved my Grandmother down to live in a home closer to us so she could be properly cared for, and we could see her more often. We'd go and visit her after school every other day. And she'd always take an interest in what I was enjoying, even if she didn't understand. She was the only one in my family that I felt any love from at that time, and every moment I had with her, i'd cherish. One day, on my final year of Primary School, I'd had a really bad day and had an attitude with my parents. We went to go and see my Grandmother, and I talked to her, and things were good. My parents got annoyed at me snapping back at them though, and sent me back to the car. I didn't get to say goodbye, just got sent to the car. That night my Grandmother passed away. I never got to say goodbye. It still haunts me to this day. I know she's at peace now. It still is my biggest regret in life. Around this time, my older Brother had moved out a few years ago, and cut contact with us. I don't know if he's dead or alive. And on top of that, in a few months, I was starting at a new school. And so I got worse, and the way I was treated got worse. I started at my new school, and didn't fit in. My Parents had used the money from my Grandparents to send me and my brother to a private school. Around the same time, my sister moved out after having a massive fight with my parents. And so my first year at school went awful. And my parents got worse. I'd go to school with bruises, because whenever i'd have a breakdown, instead of trying to understand, they'd restrain me. When I was in a state that bad, I wouldn't feel the pain as it happened. I felt it after though. I'd go to school with bruises, thankfully in places most people couldn't see. The first red flag was when I went to school with a deep gash above my lip from where my Dad threw a plastic pool toy at me, and split open my face. Around half way through the year, i'd already felt more lonely and abandoned then I ever had. I didn't really have friends, and I didn't fit in. I'd get bullied. I mentioned to someone that maybe it would be better if I ended my life, and that was of course the only time someone paid attention to me. I got excluded from school, and had to go to a new Psychologist to try and get better. I missed out on camp, and I was the talk of the school when I got back. And of course that didn't help my parents attitude. I did my exams from home, got good marks, and spent the rest of my days either studying or when I had nothing to do, playing Video Games, mainly Arkham Asylum. And even though things were bad, I still tried to see the positive. I still smiled. When I got back, I was already the talk of the school, and to make things worse, the score i'd got on my exams got me an achivement on assembly. And I had to get up in front of everyone. And I felt their eyes on me, and I heard the whispers. And I realised that it would be better if I didn't stick out. So from that point forward, I didn't try. I didn't need to pay attention to pass. I just needed to put a tiny bit of effort in, and i'd be ignored on that front. And it worked for the most part. I didn't want the attention. I wanted friends, but I didn't want people to point and gawk at me. And so that was how high school was for the most part. In the later years, when puberty started to hit I started to get crushes. And I'd always try. I'd always wanted to be loved. To be in a relationship. Most of the time i'd get laughed at, or other not great answers. When someone says the worst thing they can say is no, they obiviously forget they can say 'Ew, no'. Other then that, I got bullied quite a bit, and kept to myself. I had a single friend, and it was great. It just always felt like he never wanted to be friends with me for me, but because I would listen to what he'd want to talk about, and i'd keep my mouth shut about things he didn't care about. I tried to get him out of his comfort zone and participate in activities. Help him get out there, but it never worked out. In my second year of high school, I went to school with stitches on my arm from where my mum hit me with a knife. And I ended up having to see the school counsellor. I'd never told anyone what happened, I always made a stupid excuse. But they obviously figured something was up. They sent me to see a third Psychologist. At this time, my parents were dishing out for two different psychologists, and the anger was growing. Nothing else really notable happened in high school until my final year. The occasional bullying, and getting beaten up at times. I'd never hit back. At this point in time, my anger had started to dissipate and whenever i'd feel anger, it would tire me out and just turn to sadness. But I still tried to smile.
3 years before I graduated, I got fed up of one of my teachers. My favourite subject, the only one I really applied myself in fully was I.T. And I really enjoyed it. My teacher didn't teach us, just expected us to teach ourselves. So I reported him and he was forced to go off and do courses for whatever reason. And that was fine. He came back around a year later, and didn't change much, but at that point, I didn't see the point in reporting him again, as my time at school was almost over.
My final year, I started to deteriorate. I realised that after school finished, i'd lose my pattern, my routine. And it was important to me. My grades started to slip lower then I liked, but where still enough to pass. All I needed to do was pass I.T. Which wasn't a problem. I love I.T. I taught myself Java, Javascript, Python, Html and C++ in my spare time. I really enjoyed it. I wanted to learn to code games. But I still was stressed about my routine going away. And I think most people could tell. I looked tired, i'd start tearing up at points, and I got very quiet as the year went on. I'd forgotten about formal/prom, and I wanted to go with someone. So I asked. Not 1 girl, but 6. All said no. So eventually I asked 2 girls from another school that I got along with to go to walk ins with me. They couldn't actually go into the event, but I thought it would be cool. I bought them Corsages, rented a nice fancy car, helped buy their dresses, and it was nice. I was the first to go in. And people actually seemed nice, and like they were proud of me. And then shit hit the fan. Someone called them prostitutes, and asked how much I paid them to come with me. And I could tell they were hurt. And I was hurt. I left early. I didn't go into my formal. I couldn't. I felt defeated. And I knew my parents knew how upset I was, and how hurt I was. And instead of supporting me, my mum texted some of the other mums and told them how disappointed she was in me. And it hurt. But i'd always tried to be lenient with my mum. My dad was abusive. And so I could understand some of how she was, or thought I did.
Fast forward a couple of months to graduation. I was sad, but I thought maybe things would be okay. That I could do this. I got through it, I survived. There was lots of tears, lots of sadness, but at the end of the day I was proud. I did it. And once i'd had time to settle to get used to the lack of routine and adjust, maybe I could go to University. I wanted to go for game design.
Unfortunately, that would never happen. I had a really bad fight with my brother one day, in which he retorted with 'well at least i'll graduate'. I was confused. I did graduate. I got through it. But as it turned out, the school and my parents had had a meeting. I hadn't graduated. I hadn't passed. I'd failed I.T. Not because I got a bad mark on one of my assignments, or made a mistake. Because supposedly I hadn't submitted it. It was a public speaking assignment. I remember doing the assignment. My I.T. teacher was there, my learning support teacher was there. I had the speech on my computer. I gathered all the proof I could that i'd submitted it. Its all done online, so they could check that I had submitted it. And they did. I took all the proof I had, and went to the school. They couldn't get in contact with the old teacher. he just hadn't turned up for work the next year. They'd had to drag one of the retired teachers back to take his spot until they could hire a new teacher. And no one thought this was weird. And after all the evidence, the fact i'd never forgotten to submit an assignment, they came to the conclusion that the decision that was made was correct. Because I supposedly hadn't submitted a physical copy, and that was required. But I knew I had but there was nothing I could do. And so I failed high school. And no one was going to tell me. This meant that University wasn't much of an option for me. Not for what I wanted to do. And getting a job became even more difficult with the combination of not passing high school, and having Aspergers. There isn't really any protection for people with what I have over here, and so most people would prefer not to hire someone thats different.
At this point, my mental state had started to deteriorate significantly. I went from smiling and laughing, to staying in my room and keeping to myself. Looking for a job. I still smiled though. I still tried to stay positive. But it was hard. I fell back into playing Video Games as a crutch. It was the only thing that I really enjoyed. That and reading. Minecraft was a big one for me. And I met a group on a server. And I had friends after such a long time. And there were tough times, but I had friends. And I smiled, and laughed and tried to be funny. And then I made a mistake. I fell in love. There was a girl, and she was beautiful. I will refer to her as M. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. And I felt very strongly for her, but she was with someone else, so I kept my distance. I didn't want to ruin anything. But eventually they broke up. And we started to talk. And she made me happy. And I thought I made her happy. But little did I know that, it wasn't me that made her happy, it was what I did for her. What I bought her. What I gave her. And when she didn't need me anymore, she got rid of me. Told me I was annoying and clingy. She knew how I feel. And even though we never made it official, we talked about the future. What she wanted. How she wanted to get married. What sort of house we'd get. And then she ripped my heart out. And I broke. When she left, she took part of me with her. The part that smiled and laughed. And everyone knew.
I'm not a big photo person, but the photos from before this, my smiles were genuine, they reached my eyes. People would always compliment me on my smile, even if that was the only thing they'd compliment me on. After this, I didn't smile for so long. I went and stayed in the psych ward for a while. I couldn't talk to people. I couldn't reach their. Eventually I managed to do that. But it took long time. And I still didn't smile the same, or laugh the same. The best way I can think to put it is one of my old teachers said that you could see a certain mischievousness, and happiness and hope. But now they looked empty, cold, and sad, and my smile didn't reach my eyes anymore. I'd started to realise that I couldn't be the way I was. There was always sadness. But eventually I got back in touch with an old friend. And they invited me to a new group. And I made a really close friend. And some other friends. And I was happy. Things were rough, because when I got close to this person, going on joke Animal Crossing "Dates" that were just us hanging, someone else that liked her started messaging me, telling me he was going to hurt me and to stay away from her. And of course, I was worried about her, because thats not a normal way to react, and she thought I was trying to keep her to myself, which wasn't the case. She was cool yeah, and we flirted, but that was it. Eventually she realised, and things were okay. She left the group and invited me to her other group where I met some nice people. And in that group were 2 very important people. One was someone that I tried to become friends with. And they kept getting shy and going away. But I kept trying, because I wanted to be their friend. And eventually it worked. And we became close. He was a brother to me. An actual brother. And I loved him more then anything.
The other person was someone who went by they/them. For the purpose of the recount, I will refer to them as J. J and I got close. We got really close. we hung a lot, called a lot, spent a lot of time together. And I started to get feelings. Nothing like with the previous person that hurt me, but feelings none the less. But I thought they had a boyfriend. And so I just let the feelings sit there, and grow. And eventually to be fair to them, I decided to tell them, so nothing awkward would be between us. And they told me they reciprocated those feelings. And I was happy, but I didn't feel comfortable with them having a boyfriend. And so we continued to hang, until eventually I had the courage to ask about their boyfriend. And they said they were having a break from each other. And so I asked them out. And they said yes. And things were good for a few days. And then things got sexual. I had told them when they talked about sending pictures, that I would be happy to receive pictures, but I wouldn't feel comfortable sending pictures at all. And so one night, they sent me pictures because they wanted to. And then they asked me for pictures. And I told them I wasn't comfortable still, and that I was sorry. And I thought they would accept it. We'd talked about it, and they'd seemed accepting when I said I wouldn't. But instead, they guilted me. Made me feel bad. Played on my insecurities. And because of what happened with the last person, I was scared to screw up. I still blamed myself for what happened. With the constant shit from my parents growing up, being told everything was my fault, I grew to learn to apologise as an instinct, even if it wasn't close to my fault. I was scared to screw this up, so eventually after they played on that fear, I did it. And once they knew they could, they didn't stop. It went from pictures, to calls to other things i'd rather not discuss. And then eventually, even though they made me happy, when I was away from them, I wasn't looking forward to being back with them, I'd spiral. I'd cry, i'd keep to myself, and i'd get very quiet. And eventually, I found out that they were still with their boyfriend. And I didn't get angry, or hurt. I used it to break up with them. I told them I didn't want to be in a relationship like that. I wasn't comfortable with helping someone cheat. It went against all my morals. And they agreed to stay friends, but they kept trying to get back with me. They even told me their partner had agreed to be in a Open Relationship so I wouldn't have to worry about the cheating. I said no. And eventually, when they realised they wouldn't be able to, that they couldn't use me to satisfy them sexually while their boyfriend was away because he was in the Marines, they left me. And it hurt. Since the other person had left, i'd developed extremely bad Trust and attachment issues. Losing someone destroys me. And I broke. I attempted several times, which hadn't happened since M left. They all failed. But my two friends were there for me. And things were hard, and I was a wreck. And then, when things started to get better, I received a message from non-other then M. And I broke again. It felt like torture. It wasn't fair. It said she was sorry. That she still cared about me that way, and that she wished she hadn't done what she did. And it sucked. My friends told me not to message her back, not to trust her. I'd told them about her eventually. I took a lot to get the strength to talk about it, but I trusted them. And so I wasn't going too. But the pain was so much. I had never drunk before, and had never wanted too, but I started to abuse it bad. For a house full of people who don't drink, we had a lot of alcohol around.
And so I started to drink. I'd drink late into the night, pass out, and wake up the next morning and start drinking again. And one night, I had a lot, and I messaged M. And we started talking. And something seemed up. Even drunk I could tell, and so the next morning, when I woke up, the first thing I did was message her. Ask her how she was. Try and get her to tell me what was wrong. And she did. She was in a relationship. She had a fiance. But he was abusive. He put his hands on her. Put his hands around her throat. And I freaked out. I was scared she would die. And so I tried to help, without getting attached. I didn't trust her. I couldn't trust her after what she did. Even though I still loved her, I couldn't trust her. But she saw that. And she just tried harder. She told me she'd always loved me, that she still did. That she was scared of hurting me, and that I meant too much to her, and thats why she did what she did. And so my walls broke down. Not fully, but enough for her to get back over. And she did. We spent everyday together. She told me she loved me. She told me what I meant to her. She'd tell me she'd want stuff, and use ways to get me to get them for her. And I did. She talked to me about marriage. About the house she wanted. How she wanted to kiss me and hold me. How she couldn't wait until she broke up with him so she could be with me. And the stuff about her fiance being abusive was true. I'd seen proof. Everything else wasn't unfortunately. She obviously decided she had the strength to leave him, but she didn't want me there when she did. She told me she was staying with him, told me he'd changed before telling me things that made me worry even more. I'd been nothing but supporting. Never forceful, never angry, just what she needed. When she had days she was a mess, I was there. She was in a different country, so our time zones were really different. I wouldn't sleep for days to look over her. Make sure she was okay. Days when she couldn't talk because he was there or was so upset, i'd sit and send her memes and cute pictures because she said they made her smile and feel better. And I was an idiot. Her last words were "I wish i'd never told you anything". She was always hurtful. She blamed it on her BPD, but that wasn't what it was. She was just nasty. And I spiralled again. It felt like a repeat of the hell I went through last time. And I didn't want too. So I attempted again. And I felt it working this time. I could feel it happening. And then my friend who was pretty much my brother messaged me and convinced me to call an Ambulance. And I wish I hadn't. I really wish I hadn't. But he did. And so I went to the hospital, for the second time because of M. And I learnt this time. It also made me worse. I was on edge, I couldn't trust anyone. But I didn't love M anymore. There was nothing there. And that helped make the second time easier. I healed, I had problems, but I healed. I got casual Christmas work over here at a Video Game store. And I enjoyed being surrounded by something that I loved. Even though my enjoyment of them had waned, I still loved them and knew a lot about them. And I did a really good job. At least I thought I did.
It helped with the loneliness as well. Around the same time M came back, my Friend who was as close as a brother started dating someone. And they started spending less and less time with us, until eventually I might not hear from them for weeks. My other friend started dating someone around when I started training for work, and so they weren't around much anymore either. So the work helped. I threw myself into it. I tried my best. I was always friendly. And I supposedly was doing really well. I even had kept I had Autism from them until I had the job, and they seemed supportive, asking what they could do to help. And then, the day after Christmas over in Australia is called Boxing Day. And it is the biggest day for sales in the country. Kind of on the same level as Black Friday for America. And I was supposed to be working. And I can't deal with crowds. It overstimulates me, and makes me break down. Thats why I would break down at shopping centers when I was little. But I went, and I tried. And they knew my condition, and that I'm not good crowds, and they out me out on the floor. And I ended up having a pretty bad break down, and having to leave early. And the next shift I had was my last. They said it was nothing to do with it, but it was. I'm not stupid, and I know when people are lying. And it hurt me. At this point, I started feeling empty, and destroyed. And what was worse, I came back and my friends were both pretty much not there at all anymore. And it was like a nightmare. I'd lost everything. But my friends still talked every now and then, and I had them. And eventually one of them started a group with some other people they knew so we could play games on weekends. And it never really happened. But there were a few times. And I met someone amazing, who I shall label C. And C was lonely like me. And C had problems. And the few times I posted in the group asking if anyone wanted to play, or venting about how I was feeling, they were always there to message and say the sweetest things. And I wanted to be their friend, but after everything I was scared of approaching people directly. So I put things in the group to start discussions with them. One time I was trying to put a shelf in my room, and I put my arm at a really awkward angle and tried to lift myself up. I ended up dislocating my arm. I had my phone to listen to music while I did it, and so I went to look up how to pop it back in and call an Ambulance. But I thought about it, and I put something in the group, and they responded. And eventually got up the courage to ask them If I could DM them, and they said yes. And we became really close friends. Which was part of the friend who was as close as a brothers plan probably. Because when he found out we'd become friends, he became distant. He didn't mince his words. He fought with me about a game I bought that he didn't support, and knew how much it hurt. We agreed to leave it, only for him to like tweets saying anyone who plays the game is a horrible person. Which hurt. But eventually we sorted it out.
C invited me to a group with their friends. And It was nice. We played games, they invited me to play with them, and I joined. I had fun. I enjoyed the company. There was a little bit of an incident about 2 months after I joined, and the group split into 2, but it was okay. We all gathered around someone who was hurting because of what had happened. I still talked to my brother friend, not as much, but we still talked. And I was glad they were there. I sent them stuff for their birthday. I spoiled him, like I always try to do. And meanwhile, while I waited for them to arrive, I hanged in the group. Played games in the group chat. And I met someone who I shall call K. And I got a crush. And it was dumb. But I talked to my friends, and they encouraged me. Told me i'm good. And so I went to try, and found out they were going to start dating someone else. But I still wanted to try and be friends, because they were cool. So I got close to them, and we hung. And I fell hard. I felt something I hadn't felt since M, and a feeling I never thought I'd feel again. But I wanted them to be happy. And so I hung with them, and we spent time together, and we were happy. Around this time, my brother friend's presents had arrived. And he hadn't said anything. Nothing. I messaged him. Nothing. And I was destroyed again. I was really hurt. I took a drug cocktail, not thinking. I said goodbye to my friends. I was sad, but I thought they'd be better with me gone. But I came back, and let myself heal. I went to the hospital, got checked up on, and it was okay. A few days later, the person K had been wanting to date got back together with their Ex. And she was hurt. So I stayed with her. I spent the night on call with her. I stayed by her side. I told her it would be okay. I believed it would be. Shes strong, amazing, beautiful. And we hung more and more. And I could tell she felt something. It wasn't like M. I could tell she wanted to be there with me. And so I asked her out. And she said yes. And I was so happy. And she was happy. We talked and played and laughed and cried, but we were happy. And I made sure I always tried to do what was right. This was my second relationship. And I was so happy. She made me see a future, something I never thought i'd ever have. We were inseparable the first few days. Eventually she wanted time to herself, and I was happy with that. She made new friends, and spent time with them, and I was happy. I supported her. One night, things got sexual, and this time I wanted it. I was ready. I was scared and nervous, but she was worth it. And I thought it went well. The next day seemed normal enough. She went to hang out with some friends, I was okay with it. I got up, went through my morning routine came back and was doing stuff. She came back, and said she wanted to hang. So we did. I had bought her gifts earlier that morning, I bought us a game to play together. And we started to play, and things were fine. We talked, she told me she loved me, that she was happy we were together, that she'd never leave me. And then 10 minutes later, she asked if we were moving to fast. I told her I didn't know. I asked what she thought. Nothing. I asked her what she wanted. Nothing. I asked her if she wanted to take a step back, if she needed some time or some space. Nothing. I asked if she wanted to break up. And she just said i'm sorry. We left the call, and my mind was empty. I didn't understand. When we started dating, we both agreed that when it ended, we'd stay friends because we needed each others friendship. I messaged her and asked her to please talk to me, and tell me if something was wrong. She said every other relationship she'd had, they'd talk a bit everyday and that was it. That she thought we were moving to fast. And so I said we should take a step back. And she said she didn't think she was ready for a relationship. And I said thats okay, that we can take some time. And she went silent for a bit. I told her it would be okay. She then came back and told me she'd hurt me, that two anxious people don't work together. I tried to tell her we work well together. That we were both happy. That we both enjoyed the others company. And she told me that she was bad for me. I told her she wasn't, but she wouldn't listen. She started talking like she was leaving, and not coming back. I tried to reason with her, but she stopped responding. And then eventually, I messaged her to say good night, and that I hope she is feeling okay, and found out she'd blocked me. She left me. I still didn't know why, it was all so confusing. I bought myself a bottle of vodka and got trashed. My parents found out though, as I still lived with them, and got angry. Aggressive. I didn't even bother telling them about what I was going through. The last time I tried talking to them was after what happened with J. My mother told me it was my fault, and I should have known better. The only other conversation we had about anything serious was when I got home from the hospital trip after the second M incident, when she asked whether me doing it was worth the attention. I don't discuss anything with them anymore, they just use it to belittle and bully me, never to understand or try and help. They took the alcohol and got rid of it. I don't care about the money, I don't need it. It was what I had saved to go and see K. The past few days had been torture, until late last night.
I realised that life isn't for me. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I try and help people, I always get hurt. I'm never enough. I came to terms with dying. That I will finally be at peace. That I will be able to rest. This life has been nothing but pain for me since a very young age, and I can't smile or laugh like I used too. I only get hurt. K came back earlier today, and said she was sorry. That she wants to be friends, but nothing more. That she was sorry for leading me on. And she told my I was too clingy. And it didn't make me sad. It just made me realise that what I came to terms with is correct. I want to make sure my friends will be okay once I'm gone, and then I want to rest. My games don't bring me joy anymore, I just play them to pass the time. I wanted to go on a date before I die, but I understand i'm unlovable. This world is cruel to me, and it doesn't matter. I've never been on a date, never had a first kiss, i'm still a virgin. I wanted to try and feel real love before I left. I had something close, but the real thing is never for me. And I understand that now, and It's time for me to rest.
If anyone is still here after that short novel, thank you for reading. Sorry if it was boring. Again, I don't want sympathy, it won't help. I've looked into the SN method, but I can't seem to find a reliable source for it in Australia anymore. I've also researched some of the other methods, and the Partial Hanging makes me nervous, and the Painless drowning seems good, but I'm worried about being found. If anyone has any tips or advice, i'd really appreciate it. While i'm still here, I want to support as many of you guys as possible. I think we deserve the right to choose to end it. The people that say it gets better are either lying, or gullible. It doesn't get better for everyone. Feel free to reach out if you guys want any support or have any ideas. Thanks again.
