Welcome to my blog.
Please treat this blog as a sort of book, check out the links to my diaries and feel free to have a read of any of the entries. I am sharing my diaries with the world (anonymously) in order to help others in similar situations and show that they are not alone.
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Paper, Pills And Envelopes: Suicide Strategy
I’ve nearly got it all worked out. I know how I’m going to leave this place. The pieces in my head are falling into place to make this glorious plan of my demise. It’s a grand thing, one of the only things I’m sure of in my life. The only true thing I know of myself is that I will die. And now I know how and have a rough idea of when.
The scene of my death has been played out in my head. 80-100 pills taken in the bathroom, my body surrounded by a suicide note and a pile of letters for my “friends and family”. There are things that I cannot bring myself to say to people so I shall leave it in a letter for them to read after I’m gone. Though I doubt they will read it. Or even care that I’ve taken my own life. But I have become numb to these feelings now.
You know what they say - “you don’t know ‘til you try”. Well, I’ve tried living and I’ve realised that I can’t do it. What they also say is - “it’s not the winning that matters, it’s the taking part”. And I’ve ran in the race of life for so long, I’m tired. Depression has got me and I can’t get away no matter how fast or how far I run, it finds me in the end. But this isn’t a rabid dog that you can kick to get rid of. This has so physical form and even hurting yourself does not get rid of it either.
Going back to my little suicide plan; I can do this just before Christmas, if I plan it out correctly. After my counselling I can go get cheap, over-the-counter meds and stash them away until I feel I have enough. I’ll also need to write out my letters to people. I know some will be short, such as Alex’s. I’ll apologise for being a dick, and about not getting back to him and not dating him even though deep down I knew it could work. The letter would go a little like: “if we dated then you’d hate me and I’d only end up doing this anyway – I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I’d need to”. But of course in not so few words and a little more nicely put.
Maybe in the letters to my “friends” I could say what I liked and what I didn’t like about them. Might not sound too nice but at least something good can come out of it. I don’t think the letters should all be about me and justifying why I’ve chosen to end my life. As I know the ones to my parents will be just that. I’ll be highlighting all their flaws and tell them quite frankly that they drove me to it. Which my diaries pretty much have written all over them.
The letter to my dad is very nearly complete and I intend to finish it before my next counselling session. Then I can start on the letter for my mum. That will take a long time. And then I can make a start on the letters to friends. Maybe I should start with Alex and Jason’s letters and then work on Shaun’s. The letter to Shaun will be a lot longer than the other two. I’m not sure so to whether I should write a letter to any other “friends”. Maybe just stick to the main people. Lets face it, I don’t really have anyone else. And I’m still debating whether to write a letter to my nan (dad’s mum) and grandad (mum’s dad).
Aside from paper, pills and envelopes I’ll also need to finish posting on my blog and spend all my money. The money will need to go – even when I’m in my grave I know my mother will take all my savings to spend on a holiday, new clothes and maybe even buy a new house and move away. She’ll sell my stuff so she’ll have a fair amount of money to waste on her usual crap. Doesn’t matter though really, I guess. She uses my money for that now and she won’t stop, not even when I’m dead. I don’t really care about the money, it’s just something to spite her. The money from my dad will stop, if I’m not alive then there’s nothing to pay for. She really will be stuck then.
None of this talk of suicide fazes me. To a degree I can’t wait, the thought of dying sounds so peaceful to me. I don’t even care how I go, just as long as I don’t come round in a hospital bed.
Anonymous asked: MY MIDDLE SCHOOL DIARIES:
Dear diary, a snotty couple in seventh grade homeroom class who were meant for each other consisted of Holly and Jared. I met Jared once again at the YMCA after high school when he was around 19 years old and more mature. He was really cool. Yet that was way after high school. In junior high Jared was a major asshole that wore the expensive name brand sweaters and jeans. Naturally he was the object of affection for stuck-up Holly. I hated that bitch. Someday I w
Tumblr and it’s stupid character restrictions meant that I only got this much of your message. So please continue, anon.
Don’t feel afraid to send me messages. I read everyone of them and reply and try to help if I can :)
Just found out my friend died last night..
.. don’t know what to do. I’m just in shock..
R.I.P my friend
Looking at all these pictures online of friend’s kids and babies is making me broody. I want a fucking baby now. Oh God NO!!!! I wouldn’t be able to handle it.. shit!
