I was actively suicidal for the past year or so but I could never make my attempts work. After multiple hospital admissions and medications and therapy I don't feel quite as desperate to kill myself, and I know I can't put my family through any more attempts/admissions. But I still don't want to be here. Everyone thinks I am doing great in recovery and I've reached a point where I'm happy. I'm going back to uni Everyone can't help but say how well I'm doing and how incredibly healthy I look. But I hate the fact I'm still here, I hate my life, I still relive my trauma, I still feel immense guilt over it and life brings me so much fucking pain on a daily basis. I'm never good enough for anyone or anything and I'm exhausted of living for everyone else.
I can't say anything about how I actually feel or make another attempt because I've already nearly destroyed the people around me. I want to ctb but I don't want it to be my fault, I don't want to be to blame for the pain I'll cause everyone. I feel like I'm just waiting for a bus to hit me or to catch an incurable disease or get murdered. I smoke constantly in the hopes I get lung cancer and walk alone at night in the hopes someone will attack me and leave me for dead. My eating is all over the place and I'm purging because I know it can short circuit your heart. I stand too close to trains and trespass on the tracks. I take slightly too much medication in the hopes I can overdose but everyone think it was accidental. I rub my wounds in dirt hoping for them to get infected.
I'm not actively suicidal anymore but I'm not better. I'm in this weird limbo where I don't want to live but I don't want to hurt my family and I'm sick of spending my life under mental health teams and locked away in hospitals. I don't know what to do other than vent on the internet basically...
I can't say anything about how I actually feel or make another attempt because I've already nearly destroyed the people around me. I want to ctb but I don't want it to be my fault, I don't want to be to blame for the pain I'll cause everyone. I feel like I'm just waiting for a bus to hit me or to catch an incurable disease or get murdered. I smoke constantly in the hopes I get lung cancer and walk alone at night in the hopes someone will attack me and leave me for dead. My eating is all over the place and I'm purging because I know it can short circuit your heart. I stand too close to trains and trespass on the tracks. I take slightly too much medication in the hopes I can overdose but everyone think it was accidental. I rub my wounds in dirt hoping for them to get infected.
I'm not actively suicidal anymore but I'm not better. I'm in this weird limbo where I don't want to live but I don't want to hurt my family and I'm sick of spending my life under mental health teams and locked away in hospitals. I don't know what to do other than vent on the internet basically...
