I planed to end my life overseas on the 29th of February. The planning for my departure began around December of 2019. Originally, I wanted to go back to Africa to finish the job. But, my anxiety and paranoia would not allow me to go, so I picked a western country nearby with the help of someone else. I just had/have a really strong desire not to die on American soil.
Anyway, I left America on the 5th of February for said Western country. I wanted to give myself a nice little vacation before I did the deed. I had also reconnected with two people I knew in December; I considered them to be the only real friends I've ever had. My hope with reconnecting with them was to bring myself some sort of peace and confront. I wanted to chat, play games, and watch movies with them (online). I wanted to feel warmth in my final days. Sadly, It did not go down that way at all.
The 25th of February is when I first attempted. Like I've said, I wanted to do it on the 29th. However, I had a horrid dream that night that pushed me over the edge. The dream was basically me being a coward, unable to off myself. I wanted to prove my mind wrong that night. Welp... it turns out I am a coward at heart. The only thing I managed to do that night was slice my thumb open, accidentally, and prick my skin with my knife. For reference, my suicide method is self-stabbing. I planned to stab myself in the groin, right were my femoral artery is. I have experience with self-stabbing (I stabbed my arm twice in 2016 to severe an artery), and I can report back there is zero pain when you first stab yourself. It's all psychological.
Anyway, I try again on the 26th. That night I managed to stab myself about six times. The first five stabs were light ones, and the last one was a moderate stab. Basically, I ended up trying to warm myself up for the one fatal blow I needed. I then planned, on the 27th, to give myself two deep stab wounds to my lower leg. Then on the 28th, the fatal one.
The 27th came and I managed to give myself only one of the two stabs I wanted. The knife went in pretty deep, and I freaked out as soon as I saw the large hole now in my leg. A split-second later blood starts pouring out all over my leg and bathroom floor. The bleeding subsided after a few minutes and I just sat down on the bathroom floor, thinking. Then, a few more minutes after the bleeding had stopped, I started getting really dizzy and my pulse had become rapid and shallow. At that point I thought I was bleeding out internally, as there was a fair amount swelling happening. I ended up being "ok," but I was pretty shook up by it and the progress I made warming up was lost.
The days that followed are a bit of a blur. On the night of March 1st, I broke down and told one of my two friends about what was going on. I'll refer to her as "A." It didn't really go all that well. And to be honest, I really regretted telling A as soon I sent it.
On March 2nd I was really in a panic, as I had a flight back home in the morning. And I did not want to return to the States alive. I did not want to be a failure. I wanted to earn my freedom. I ended up spending that night crying and wailing. At one point I was dry-heaving. I calmed down a bit eventually and messaged A. I don't really remember what I said, but I asked at one point if they could talk to me on discord for a few minutes.They never replied until I asked if we could reset this friendship and put this all behind us if my suicide fails tonight. We had a little back-and-fourth that didn't go all that well, again. Last thing they replied was, "I don't know dude." What that refers to, I don't know. The reason I even told A about this matter in the first place is due to the fact we shared very similar views in the past about life. I didn't think they would react in the way they did. My question is: How can you scorn death, yet wear a pendant that says "Ready to Die?"
I spent the rest of the night in bed watching a walkthrough of "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" with my knife in hand. In the end, I wasn't able to do it.
March 3rd I flew back home. That day was the worst I have ever felt in my entire life. Just absolutely soul-crushing. Words just can't describe it. I spent all this time, money, and energy planning this and it failed. I truly thought I would be free on February 29th. Before the 25th, I felt so blissful about ending my life. All I would think about is how I'm about to go to a much, much better place, free of any pain or suffering. These thoughts would bring such a grin to my face.
The 29th was also a very important date for me. See, some people celebrate leap day by doing something they've been meaning to, but have put off. For me, it was suicide. I had last attempted in 2016. I thought what better way to celebrate the leap year than by suicide. Also, In my 2016 attempt, I was supposed to have my last meal at a particular restaurant, but never did. So for this attempt, before I left the country, I went and ate at that restaurant. All in all, this was supposed to be a pretty ritualistic suicide. Such a shame it turned into such a dumpster fire.
I came to this place hoping I could find some emotional support and make some new friends. The two I had before this, abandoned me.
Anyway, I left America on the 5th of February for said Western country. I wanted to give myself a nice little vacation before I did the deed. I had also reconnected with two people I knew in December; I considered them to be the only real friends I've ever had. My hope with reconnecting with them was to bring myself some sort of peace and confront. I wanted to chat, play games, and watch movies with them (online). I wanted to feel warmth in my final days. Sadly, It did not go down that way at all.
The 25th of February is when I first attempted. Like I've said, I wanted to do it on the 29th. However, I had a horrid dream that night that pushed me over the edge. The dream was basically me being a coward, unable to off myself. I wanted to prove my mind wrong that night. Welp... it turns out I am a coward at heart. The only thing I managed to do that night was slice my thumb open, accidentally, and prick my skin with my knife. For reference, my suicide method is self-stabbing. I planned to stab myself in the groin, right were my femoral artery is. I have experience with self-stabbing (I stabbed my arm twice in 2016 to severe an artery), and I can report back there is zero pain when you first stab yourself. It's all psychological.
Anyway, I try again on the 26th. That night I managed to stab myself about six times. The first five stabs were light ones, and the last one was a moderate stab. Basically, I ended up trying to warm myself up for the one fatal blow I needed. I then planned, on the 27th, to give myself two deep stab wounds to my lower leg. Then on the 28th, the fatal one.
The 27th came and I managed to give myself only one of the two stabs I wanted. The knife went in pretty deep, and I freaked out as soon as I saw the large hole now in my leg. A split-second later blood starts pouring out all over my leg and bathroom floor. The bleeding subsided after a few minutes and I just sat down on the bathroom floor, thinking. Then, a few more minutes after the bleeding had stopped, I started getting really dizzy and my pulse had become rapid and shallow. At that point I thought I was bleeding out internally, as there was a fair amount swelling happening. I ended up being "ok," but I was pretty shook up by it and the progress I made warming up was lost.
The days that followed are a bit of a blur. On the night of March 1st, I broke down and told one of my two friends about what was going on. I'll refer to her as "A." It didn't really go all that well. And to be honest, I really regretted telling A as soon I sent it.
On March 2nd I was really in a panic, as I had a flight back home in the morning. And I did not want to return to the States alive. I did not want to be a failure. I wanted to earn my freedom. I ended up spending that night crying and wailing. At one point I was dry-heaving. I calmed down a bit eventually and messaged A. I don't really remember what I said, but I asked at one point if they could talk to me on discord for a few minutes.They never replied until I asked if we could reset this friendship and put this all behind us if my suicide fails tonight. We had a little back-and-fourth that didn't go all that well, again. Last thing they replied was, "I don't know dude." What that refers to, I don't know. The reason I even told A about this matter in the first place is due to the fact we shared very similar views in the past about life. I didn't think they would react in the way they did. My question is: How can you scorn death, yet wear a pendant that says "Ready to Die?"
I spent the rest of the night in bed watching a walkthrough of "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" with my knife in hand. In the end, I wasn't able to do it.
March 3rd I flew back home. That day was the worst I have ever felt in my entire life. Just absolutely soul-crushing. Words just can't describe it. I spent all this time, money, and energy planning this and it failed. I truly thought I would be free on February 29th. Before the 25th, I felt so blissful about ending my life. All I would think about is how I'm about to go to a much, much better place, free of any pain or suffering. These thoughts would bring such a grin to my face.
The 29th was also a very important date for me. See, some people celebrate leap day by doing something they've been meaning to, but have put off. For me, it was suicide. I had last attempted in 2016. I thought what better way to celebrate the leap year than by suicide. Also, In my 2016 attempt, I was supposed to have my last meal at a particular restaurant, but never did. So for this attempt, before I left the country, I went and ate at that restaurant. All in all, this was supposed to be a pretty ritualistic suicide. Such a shame it turned into such a dumpster fire.
I came to this place hoping I could find some emotional support and make some new friends. The two I had before this, abandoned me.
