SebVettel5
Member
- Aug 25, 2022
- 19
One more venting before I try to ctb tonight. Don't you guys hate the fact that when you consider suicide, everybody acts like you're so precious for them?
But when you're actually living in this fucking hellhole, nobody cares about your existence at all.
During my first amateurish ctb attempt (I was 18 and quite naive back then) I swallowed 68 sleeping pills - antidepressants and they took me to ICU, maybe because it was doomed to fail but I definitely couldn't calculate the timing and I was found by my parents. I even opened up the door for them when they arrived at home, with 68 fucking pills inside my stomach. They thought I had a flu or something I don't know. I think they knew it was serious when I passed out after some time.
Whatever, I was found, they took me to ICU, and after few days, I got out of the hospital and my father who beat the shit out of my mother so many times during my childhood, who was inconsiderate about my mental health, came towards me crying, along with my mother. And then my uncle's wife who was working at the same hospital stayed near me for a while and she was also crying. My father told me there were some of my high-school classmates, and even the guy who psychologically bullied me was among them. (he knew he couldn't physically abuse me or I would kick his ass btw.)
And then, after we got to my uncle's home, I saw my cousin, smiling that she's happy to see me there alive.
But the thing is, we don't even talk with these people right now. I mean, it's been years since I've seen them. Well, I'm not fond of them personally to be honest but it feels like it's a ritual for them to cry after somebody that tries to ctb and then completely forget about him. Isn't that a bit hypocritical?
I don't even see those high-school classmates that I was friends with that frequently. We were supposed to arrange a meeting after a long time, even though they knew I'm supposed to be in Australia in a relatively short time, they didn't seem too interested to gather up for one last fucking time. I was walking around the streets yesterday because I was quite anxious about my plans on ctb, and one of my high-school classmates saw me there while he was in a car and shouted my name and greeted me. I was happy for a short time and then decided to call him to learn where he is so I could come with them and hang around, but he said he has other friends so we better meet next Saturday. This guy was the one who, as my father said, cried a lot when I was in the intensive care unit. His other friends are too precious for him so he keeps them away from me for some reason.
TLDR; Once you ctb, everybody acts like they care about you and tell you how you matter for them, but when you're actually alive nobody gives a shit about you and they have other people to spend their time with.
But when you're actually living in this fucking hellhole, nobody cares about your existence at all.
During my first amateurish ctb attempt (I was 18 and quite naive back then) I swallowed 68 sleeping pills - antidepressants and they took me to ICU, maybe because it was doomed to fail but I definitely couldn't calculate the timing and I was found by my parents. I even opened up the door for them when they arrived at home, with 68 fucking pills inside my stomach. They thought I had a flu or something I don't know. I think they knew it was serious when I passed out after some time.
Whatever, I was found, they took me to ICU, and after few days, I got out of the hospital and my father who beat the shit out of my mother so many times during my childhood, who was inconsiderate about my mental health, came towards me crying, along with my mother. And then my uncle's wife who was working at the same hospital stayed near me for a while and she was also crying. My father told me there were some of my high-school classmates, and even the guy who psychologically bullied me was among them. (he knew he couldn't physically abuse me or I would kick his ass btw.)
And then, after we got to my uncle's home, I saw my cousin, smiling that she's happy to see me there alive.
But the thing is, we don't even talk with these people right now. I mean, it's been years since I've seen them. Well, I'm not fond of them personally to be honest but it feels like it's a ritual for them to cry after somebody that tries to ctb and then completely forget about him. Isn't that a bit hypocritical?
I don't even see those high-school classmates that I was friends with that frequently. We were supposed to arrange a meeting after a long time, even though they knew I'm supposed to be in Australia in a relatively short time, they didn't seem too interested to gather up for one last fucking time. I was walking around the streets yesterday because I was quite anxious about my plans on ctb, and one of my high-school classmates saw me there while he was in a car and shouted my name and greeted me. I was happy for a short time and then decided to call him to learn where he is so I could come with them and hang around, but he said he has other friends so we better meet next Saturday. This guy was the one who, as my father said, cried a lot when I was in the intensive care unit. His other friends are too precious for him so he keeps them away from me for some reason.
TLDR; Once you ctb, everybody acts like they care about you and tell you how you matter for them, but when you're actually alive nobody gives a shit about you and they have other people to spend their time with.
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