I'll just yap for anyone that is interested in the full story of why I chose death.
The first time I've wanted to kill myself was 9 years ago, when I was 11. I grew up as the only mixed-race kid in an all-white, cows and meadows, no supermarket village. I faced racism and alienation from around the age of 5 by classmates, teachers and neighbors. A seed was planted in my brain that because of the fact I was different I was undeserving of friendship. Every friendship I've had since elementary school has followed the same pattern: I'm lonely, they give me friendship, I get too attached, they want more distance, I will try every crazy attempt to make them stay until they eventually leave permanently. I know that's borderline now, got diagnosed this month.
My insecure self went to middle school and developed anorexia. At first it wasn't even about losing weight. I just didn't want people to make fun of me and eating felt like a very vulnerable moment for others to pick at me. When I lost some weight, the realisation came that not eating also fixed an ordeal of other problems: I didn't have to go through female puberty (I'm non-binary), it numbed my feelings, gave me something I was good at and on top of it all it did make me skinny, which by that point was the idealisation of a skeleton. The combination of my bpd, anorexia, depression and supposed autism made me unable to function properly. I dropped out of school twice, got admitted numerous times and just never felt happy or sane.
I met the person who I've had the longest friendship with 4 years ago. We opened up so quickly to each other. Maybe too quickly. At some point he became somewhat of a therapist to me, which of course isn't a healthy friendship, but we really believed he could help me. Because of my bpd (or the way my brain is wired) the friendship got to a pushing-and-pulling manipulative mess at many points. We took breaks, which were hell for me, but somehow always resolved it in the end. I think somewhere in that limerence I must've developed feelings. I don't think I've ever been so honest to myself then in the last weeks. For some reason it's always been easier to lie to myself saying I didn't love him romantically but was just extremely attached. Romance was something that wasn't supposed to happen between us. It couldn't. I know he didn't want that and that was fine as long as I could live in the illusion of keeping him just close enough while convincing myself I didn't love him. It didn't help that our friendship got sexual after around a year. We were each other's first times. We fucked for 3 years until he left for an Erasmus exchange semester in October.
That Erasmus changed so much. He was gone for two weeks when he called me to tell me he had sex with someone else. Theorethically he did nothing wrong. We were never exclusive, but that wrecked me. I still remember the afternoon he told me. I got sick to my stomach, couldn't swallow anything and had diarrhea for two weeks straight. The awful thing was that their sexual encounters kept happening so after every update I'd get on that, I'd just be ill again. Really had to drag myself through life. I was a wreck. But in the back of my mind I believed that everything would be back to old as soon as his Erasmus was over.
I visited him when he came back home for the Holidays. That's when I lost all hope. He looked at me with the most dead eyes. I just couldn't recognize him anymore. Every connection we had built seemed to have been flushed down a drain. I got commited that day. Let me tell you that celebrating Christmas, NYE and your birthday in a psych ward is an experience. I spent 3 weeks in the psych ward before leaving to the country my friend's exchange is in, the day after my release. We had a mutual agreement that this would be our last week before we both went our own ways. I had so much fun, but also constantly fought my triggers, had crises, felt like having to suck up my own tears and I did some messed up stuff too. I destroyed some of the girl's stuff that was still lying around in his dorm. I threw it out the window and flushed some things. What I meant by "going our own ways" wasn't just ending the friendship. I had plans to kill myself as soon as I got home. Stupid me told him and he informed his parents who came to pick me up at the airport and drove me straight back to the ward. So that's where I'm at while writing this.
Little did I know that, just like I was repressing romantic feelings these years, my best friend would be repressing his romantic interest for the girl he fucked. They're at a point where he gets depresssed if he doesn't hear from her, they call each other all kinds of cute names and organised a secret meet-up in February where he'll be visiting her in her home country. I just can't be alive anymore by the time he goes to see her. I don't know how to process having him be in love with someone while leaving me lonely. I might sound stupid killing myself over a man, but it's more like a series of unfortunate events for the past 9 years where this is the last drop.
So the plan?
As soon as I'm released from the hospital, most likely this or next week, I'll be going through a 3-day plan.
Day 1:
- Contact my dealer to bring me H. "Are you really killing yourself with opiates??" I know, I know, I would've also preferred SN, but it's pretty inaccessible in the time span I have. I've never used opiates before, I'm as light as a feather so I think 1g of even the most impure stuff will be enough for an OD.
- Read the letters I wrote to my loved ones one more time.
Day 2:
- Clean my dorm (aka the place of my passing)
- Supermarket for ingredients for my last meal
- A good long everything shower
Day 3:
- Call/text people that I care about but aren't getting a letter
- Cook my last meal: pumpkin ravioli with tomato sauce, sweet potato chunks and grana padano with a side of yellow pickled radish and beets, an Ikea cinnamon bun and jasmine tea and eat that while watching Her by Spike Jonze.
- Put on a cute outfit, do my makeup, just get ready for the last moment I'll be looked at
- Play the Her score while putting my letters in sight, prepping my stuff to then die on my bed between my plushies after a per-rectal H OD at age 20
Hey! I don't plan to die for some time as I have certain conditions I would like to happen before I do it, but I can get your frustration in the general publics lack of understanding. I may not even understand myself but if you'd like to vent out everything you need to say, I will be here to listen without encouraging you to recover. This is your choice to make and only you can decide it, because nobody else will truly understand your thought process behind it. If it's anytime soon, I may even cry for your death as I'm a rather sensitive person lol and I find I'm often crying for those who have now passed that were apart of this site and even those who werent ( mentioning this as I, and I know some other people, would find comfort in others mourning them when they pass)
I can tell you're a warm-hearted person. Thank you!
It really is lonely. Carrying around something you can't mention to anyone else, because it'll be heavily discouraged, is a burden which is really hard to handle. Even if you're lucky enough to have friends or other people around you, it's still isolating to be a completely different individual on the outside than the inside. Acting is hard; acting for years on end is agonizing. And if those around you know about your struggles, they'll likely not completely understand you, which is -- guess what — lonely. I'm glad I've found others here who understand me, my wishes, and choices, and who are willing to keep me alive for so long, but also willing to let go when it's gone on for too long. I hope you find someone.
The friend that I spoke about above, was the only one who seemed to understand. I remember he held me last week while I cried and told me: "of course I don't want you to die. But I also know you're suffering. So if dying is the only way you believe to find rest, then I can only support that and hope the best for you." Little sad that he did inform his parents about it right after...
