Story My story and why I am here

[Nx7]

For the past six years, I embarked on an incredible journey of living abroad, a place that brought me immeasurable joy and unforgettable experiences. However, as fate would have it, my dreams of obtaining a permanent visa were shattered, forcing me to return to my country of origin, a place I often describe as a shithole, the worst ever.

Living abroad was an extraordinary chapter in my life. It was a time when everything seemed to fall into place. I thrived both physically and mentally, surrounded by a supportive network of friends. Life was filled with countless blessings, and I felt truly grateful.

Unfortunately, the visa application process took an unexpected turn when I noticed that crucial documents were missing, leaving me with a tight deadline that couldn't be met. The weight of this realization hit hard, and despair engulfed me. The thought of returning to the country I was born in became unbearable, and I found myself descending into a dark place, battling suicidal thoughts. The weight of this disappointment took a toll on my mental and physical health, leading to self-harm tendencies and intense panic attacks. It was then that I started trying to commit suicide for real. From cutting to hanging and much more. Mostly failed attempts. Some of them close to death.

It is essential to acknowledge that my journey abroad was not without its challenges. Like any adventure, there were ups and downs. However, until January of this year, everything was going remarkably well. Despite the occasional hurdles, I managed to maintain my peak physical form, cultivate meaningful friendships, and a work routine that enriched my life.

But then, little did I know that this period of bliss would soon give way to a series of unfortunate events that led me towards my current predicament. Life took an unexpected turn, and my world crumbled. The path that had once seemed so clear became clouded with uncertainty and disappointment. The prospect of returning to a place I believed couldn't offer me the same opportunities haunted my every thought. Yep, the shithole country, the depressing city.. There's nothing here.

As I find myself back in the country of my origin, I am faced with a difficult reality. The initial shock and disappointment still linger, casting a shadow over my daily life. I can't function properly anymore. The future may seem uncertain right now. Upon my return my family is treating me as a child. The despair and the failure are leading me to "catch the bus". Maybe I am just ungrateful but maybe it's not the case.

I then discovered Sanctioned Suicide and started reading about possible methods to "go out".

Life is a series of chapters, and this chapter may have ended in an unexpected way, but it is not the end of my story just yet. But catching the bus seems more and more likely. I also got in contact with Pegasos (the swiss assisted death clinic) that would be the best option…a calm and dignified death. But I am not holding my breath…

If anyone reads this - I invite you to join me in embracing the unknown and discovering the possibilities that lie ahead.

 

[peace_van]

I can relate. I also have the experience of living abroad, in a country of hope in my view.
Life was generally good there, but what really made it good was my peaceful mindset.
Later, some issue forced me to go back to my country (not the visa issue as in your story), and I was depressed and thought about ctb.

The country does provide a better environment, but now I understand it's just one factor.
After all the willingness to live comes from one's mind- even though it can be affected by the external environment, it's internally decided.

No matter where life takes you, I hope you live the way you want and have your will fulfilled.

 

[Endoflifer]

I'm in a similar situation. I lived abroad for years and accidentally came back 24 years ago after stupidly marrying a Colombian woman who wanted to live in Holland, where I'm from originally. She bore me a child, I went through a gruelling divorce, didn't see my son for ten years, moved back in with my mom and was doing okay, even went back to Colombia and decided to live there when she fell I'll, so I went back to care for her and then she died. This was in 2016. A few years later I met another woman and was introduced to 3-MMC and got addicted. Sold the family home and moved to Spain. Did a bunch of crazy and stupid stuff, realized my marriage (I wed the woman) had gone to seed and that I was badly addicted. Quit using by myself, fell into a severer depression. Last summer I sold the house and drove back to Holland, where I realized I had no one and nowhere to turn to. Stayed in hotels, then in a clinic for a month to see if that would help with the depression (it didn't), then stayed in a tiny cabin for a few months until I was told I had to move out. Bought a horrible apartment just to have a roof over my head. That was two months ago. Have been researching ways to cbt since then and managed to get hold of oxy and fentanyl but probably not in the right form or dosage. This week I checked into the crisis ward of the mental health service, who are now seeing me on an out-patient basis. Don't know what to do. I'm thinking of going to Thailand and take it from there. Maybe go back to Colombia, where my son has been living for the last few years, and possibly take a bullet. Or drown in some sea. Can't envision myself staying here and growing old defeated and miserable. No reason to stay here, no social life nor job prospects. I'm in my late fifties but/and it feels like my life would be over if I did. Might as well roam the world. I still have some money left to do so. But in the state I'm in it's also hard to imagine myself traveling, really. Hence Thailand, I can go to a training camp and recover physically and somewhat mentally first. But cbt would be so much easier - if only it wasn't so hard!