SleepDealer
Your Imaginary Friend
- Aug 13, 2021
- 138
I thought yesterday would be my day, but it was not. I didn't let the delay bother me and patience paid off. After what feels like eternity, I'm stepping out. I just want to emphasize what a struggle this has been. Maybe it'll help or at least outline the importance of freedom...
Certain people become hypervigilant once they find out you want to CTB. Suddenly, you can't have a quiet day without being questioned. You have to hide your pain, smile, and fake your way through every waking moment. You have to explain everything you do, and most of your explanations end up becoming lies because you can no longer be honest about what you're feeling. Even innocent acts such as forgetting to eat or spending too long in the bathroom can set off the hypervigilant guardian. You can't be caught with any chemicals, pills, rope, or anything that could be used in their stead. Forget about pain killers, scarves, and shoelaces. You can hardly even clean without raising suspicion. You can't be caught awake or sleeping at odd hours. You can't make dark jokes. You can't express sadness or anger. You can't disagree. You can't talk about philosophy, current events, or deep thoughts, but you can't engage in small talk either. One is too worrying and the other is too suspicious. You can't ask about someone's schedule, insist on being alone, or refuse to go out with people. If you're sick, you can't let anyone find out, even if it's a regular seasonal cold. You can't do anything.
The hypervigilance of someone who genuinely believes they're protecting you and "doing what's best for you" is suffocating. It has pushed me closer to the edge than ever before. It is the reason I grew too desperate during my last attempt, and ultimately sabotaged myself because of the unbearable fucking paranoia I have been gifted by the ever looming presence of someone who supposedly cares. It's the reason I've had to go through every day since then, like I'm undercover in my own fucking house. All the while, I have received no actual help. No efforts have been made to alleviate my desire to end my own life. I'm just punished for feeling something that they do not understand. This is not about caring for me, it is about preventing me from doing something that will damage their image. If this is love, I want nothing to do with it.
It is very difficult for me to get this point and be as angry as I am, but not lash out, blame anyone, or express my hatred. Part of me wants to express these feelings in some explosive suicide letter that outlines everything wrong with this fucking world and the ones who kept me here. I want to rant on and on, forever, about how sick I am of hearing how much better she thinks she is than everyone else, how she never has anything nice to say about other people, how she's so negative, so patronizing, constantly complaining, constantly dragging everyone else down, constantly projecting, never reflecting. Just... An absolute pain in the ass. But nah. I'm not going to do that. I've already written and trashed countless letters like that over the years. They're pointless. Nothing I write in a suicide note will ever appease me or anyone who reads it.
The only people who will know about those feelings are the people who actually read this, and I barely scraped the surface of everything that's on my mind right now. I don't know, maybe I'm making the wrong choice by keeping all it in, even in my last moments. I just don't have the energy anymore. Still, if someone who's trying to prevent suicide ends up reading this, I just want to say: don't do it like that.
So yeah, peace.
Certain people become hypervigilant once they find out you want to CTB. Suddenly, you can't have a quiet day without being questioned. You have to hide your pain, smile, and fake your way through every waking moment. You have to explain everything you do, and most of your explanations end up becoming lies because you can no longer be honest about what you're feeling. Even innocent acts such as forgetting to eat or spending too long in the bathroom can set off the hypervigilant guardian. You can't be caught with any chemicals, pills, rope, or anything that could be used in their stead. Forget about pain killers, scarves, and shoelaces. You can hardly even clean without raising suspicion. You can't be caught awake or sleeping at odd hours. You can't make dark jokes. You can't express sadness or anger. You can't disagree. You can't talk about philosophy, current events, or deep thoughts, but you can't engage in small talk either. One is too worrying and the other is too suspicious. You can't ask about someone's schedule, insist on being alone, or refuse to go out with people. If you're sick, you can't let anyone find out, even if it's a regular seasonal cold. You can't do anything.
The hypervigilance of someone who genuinely believes they're protecting you and "doing what's best for you" is suffocating. It has pushed me closer to the edge than ever before. It is the reason I grew too desperate during my last attempt, and ultimately sabotaged myself because of the unbearable fucking paranoia I have been gifted by the ever looming presence of someone who supposedly cares. It's the reason I've had to go through every day since then, like I'm undercover in my own fucking house. All the while, I have received no actual help. No efforts have been made to alleviate my desire to end my own life. I'm just punished for feeling something that they do not understand. This is not about caring for me, it is about preventing me from doing something that will damage their image. If this is love, I want nothing to do with it.
It is very difficult for me to get this point and be as angry as I am, but not lash out, blame anyone, or express my hatred. Part of me wants to express these feelings in some explosive suicide letter that outlines everything wrong with this fucking world and the ones who kept me here. I want to rant on and on, forever, about how sick I am of hearing how much better she thinks she is than everyone else, how she never has anything nice to say about other people, how she's so negative, so patronizing, constantly complaining, constantly dragging everyone else down, constantly projecting, never reflecting. Just... An absolute pain in the ass. But nah. I'm not going to do that. I've already written and trashed countless letters like that over the years. They're pointless. Nothing I write in a suicide note will ever appease me or anyone who reads it.
The only people who will know about those feelings are the people who actually read this, and I barely scraped the surface of everything that's on my mind right now. I don't know, maybe I'm making the wrong choice by keeping all it in, even in my last moments. I just don't have the energy anymore. Still, if someone who's trying to prevent suicide ends up reading this, I just want to say: don't do it like that.
So yeah, peace.
