Venting Still Alive—Awaiting my “Golden Ticket”

[homesoon.]

I've tried moving on, getting better. I've tried coping, quitting self harm and self destructive habits, therapy, medication, a new environment and job, new friends, a new love, a new day, blah blah blah. Yet, I still feel the same emptiness every day. I still feel the same pit every single second. I feel the same disconnect, guilt, anger, frustration, depression, melancholy; like I don't really belong here. I imagine dying at least once, every day. I imagine relapsing every day. I imagine caving and drinking myself half to death. I imagine giving up, stop putting on the fake sense of "being better." I think about how I still have my SN kit hidden away, awaiting for use; I check it when I'm alone, just to make sure it's unbothered. It's my golden ticket, as I see it. I feel as though, after all these years, I know how I'll die and it's just a matter of when. But, god, does it bring me joy to know that I have that hidden ticket and I won't allow anyone to take it from me.

 

[kabuto43]

I totally feel what you're saying but if you're thinking about a golden ticket then u might as well consider a better method cuz there are more peaceful ways to do this

 

[greygoosechoose]

I totally feel what you're saying but if you're thinking about a golden ticket then u might as well consider a better method cuz there are more peaceful ways to do this

AFAIK this is pretty peaceful way. Especially if they add other substances like opiods/anti-emetics.

Sucks you feel that way OP. I personally see my life as being ruined by bad luck and being decent otherwise. I'm hanging on by the hope I can find personal fulfillment in my own stupid hobbies, but life is going to hit me hard since I'm disabled and depend on someone else. I can't be taken care of forever.