HumanoidMonster
Chained Soul wandering this cursed plane
- Jun 19, 2025
- 9
Last year I was in a very dark spot and ended up going for possibly a very desperate attempt:
I have a small replica crossbow that can shoot small plastic bolts that normally have small plastic suction cups at the end. After looking around the house careful not to arouse any suspicions, I conjured up the plan to replace the suction cup tip of one of the bolts with a small metallic screw in order to create a makeshift projectile. I waited to be home alone and first started by removing the suction cup tip and scratching away any plastic residues in order to make room for the top of the metal screw. I then applied some super glue to lock the screw in place and let it rest for a few hours to make sure it would stick up.
At that point the plan was to wait to be home alone on a morning, mark my pterion (most fragile spot of the skull, located 3 centimeters north and 4 centimeters west of the left eye if I remember correctly) with a marker, load the crossbow with the makeshift deadly bolt and just free myself. My only fears were wrong positioning causing me more pain, and my survival instinct kicking in and steering me away (I have heard that suicide can be exceptionally hard due to the body's survival instinct).
The following morning I woke up at 9 AM to an empty house. I felt anxious but also pretty serene: it's true that there was a margin of error, but it was manageable, and the mere thought of finally ending my suffering made me feel at peace. I made myself breakfast, spent some time looking at the clear sky, then I decided to go for it: I picked up the bolt, the crossbow, a marker, a ruler, I locked myself in the bathroom, and started by first carefully marking the point where the pterion was located, then I loaded up the crossbow and aligned it perfectly to said spot. What followed were some very tense 5 minutes of me just staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was hesitating, heart racing, and overwhelming sense of fear, which made me realize it was probably the survival instinct. I took deep breaths, fearing I might be unable to overcome it, but then I closed my eyes and finally pulled the trigger. I heard the sound of the bolt being fired, and a sharp pain where the pterion was located. For a split second I thought it was over, but then I opened my eyes, and the bolt was simply lodged into the side of my forehead. As soon as I tried touching the tail of the bolt, it fell off and just left a dark red point where I had marked earlier. The attempt failed, likely because the replica crossbow wasn't strong enough to shoot the bolt at the necessary speed to pierce through my skull. I had failed because of a variable I hadn't accounted for. I felt desperate, to the point I frantically loaded up the crossbow with the same bolt, pointed it at my left carotid (during the planning phase I was unsure whether to blast my pterion or my carotid), and fired. Same thing happened. I remember loudly screaming "NO", loading up the crossbow again and shooting where my heart was located in my chest, to no avail.
I had failed my attempt.
I felt miserable at first, but then a feeling of peace struck me. This feeling was caused by a single thought: I overcame my own survival instinct and didn't fail because of it. My attempt's failure wasn't to blame on me "chickening out", but on another, external factor, and this realization helped me not become extremely distraught at the realization of having missed my occasion to free myself of this burden of a life.
Now, this wasn't my first attempt: my first attempt happened only two months earlier, when I was home alone and decided to dump 35 tabs of quetiapine (anti-psychotic), 25 tabs of escitalopram (anti-depressant), 10 tabs of paracetamol and 10 tabs of xanax (benzodiazepine). I had researched a bit about the dangers of doing something like that, namely something called serotonin syndrome and other bad stuff, but the reasons why I did it anyway were 1) Part of me hoped that what I was taking was a lethal dose and 2) I wanted to feel something for once, which is pretty stupid, but I was in a very very bad place mentally at the time so, please, bear with me. The effects were pretty nasty indeed: other than spending hours losing considerable amounts of blood on the toilet, I had insane tremors, fever, dilated pupils and felt like I wasn't real. Thankfully, it went away in a couple of days.
As of right now, I may have found a good source for SN, and, after making sure it's legit, I will buy it and start planning my exit with that. I'm predicting that it will be hard, since not only the potential source is on the opposite side of the world from where I am, but I also live with my family and might not even have anti-emetics in the house. The past attempts I described above have helped me become desentisized to the idea of ingesting something dangerous and carefully planning out and carrying out these elaborate and complex matters. I genuinely hope I can wrap all of this up by the end of summer if not as soon as possible, but I guess only time will tell. The plan B is to just drag myself through the next school year like I did for the one that just finished, though I am not sure I can keep myself together enough to do it a second time.
To anyone that has read to the end, thank you for dedicating your precious time to reading my story. If you have any questions or would like to get in touch, please do not be afraid to do so, as I would be more than glad to have human interactions.
-HM
I have a small replica crossbow that can shoot small plastic bolts that normally have small plastic suction cups at the end. After looking around the house careful not to arouse any suspicions, I conjured up the plan to replace the suction cup tip of one of the bolts with a small metallic screw in order to create a makeshift projectile. I waited to be home alone and first started by removing the suction cup tip and scratching away any plastic residues in order to make room for the top of the metal screw. I then applied some super glue to lock the screw in place and let it rest for a few hours to make sure it would stick up.
At that point the plan was to wait to be home alone on a morning, mark my pterion (most fragile spot of the skull, located 3 centimeters north and 4 centimeters west of the left eye if I remember correctly) with a marker, load the crossbow with the makeshift deadly bolt and just free myself. My only fears were wrong positioning causing me more pain, and my survival instinct kicking in and steering me away (I have heard that suicide can be exceptionally hard due to the body's survival instinct).
The following morning I woke up at 9 AM to an empty house. I felt anxious but also pretty serene: it's true that there was a margin of error, but it was manageable, and the mere thought of finally ending my suffering made me feel at peace. I made myself breakfast, spent some time looking at the clear sky, then I decided to go for it: I picked up the bolt, the crossbow, a marker, a ruler, I locked myself in the bathroom, and started by first carefully marking the point where the pterion was located, then I loaded up the crossbow and aligned it perfectly to said spot. What followed were some very tense 5 minutes of me just staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was hesitating, heart racing, and overwhelming sense of fear, which made me realize it was probably the survival instinct. I took deep breaths, fearing I might be unable to overcome it, but then I closed my eyes and finally pulled the trigger. I heard the sound of the bolt being fired, and a sharp pain where the pterion was located. For a split second I thought it was over, but then I opened my eyes, and the bolt was simply lodged into the side of my forehead. As soon as I tried touching the tail of the bolt, it fell off and just left a dark red point where I had marked earlier. The attempt failed, likely because the replica crossbow wasn't strong enough to shoot the bolt at the necessary speed to pierce through my skull. I had failed because of a variable I hadn't accounted for. I felt desperate, to the point I frantically loaded up the crossbow with the same bolt, pointed it at my left carotid (during the planning phase I was unsure whether to blast my pterion or my carotid), and fired. Same thing happened. I remember loudly screaming "NO", loading up the crossbow again and shooting where my heart was located in my chest, to no avail.
I had failed my attempt.
I felt miserable at first, but then a feeling of peace struck me. This feeling was caused by a single thought: I overcame my own survival instinct and didn't fail because of it. My attempt's failure wasn't to blame on me "chickening out", but on another, external factor, and this realization helped me not become extremely distraught at the realization of having missed my occasion to free myself of this burden of a life.
Now, this wasn't my first attempt: my first attempt happened only two months earlier, when I was home alone and decided to dump 35 tabs of quetiapine (anti-psychotic), 25 tabs of escitalopram (anti-depressant), 10 tabs of paracetamol and 10 tabs of xanax (benzodiazepine). I had researched a bit about the dangers of doing something like that, namely something called serotonin syndrome and other bad stuff, but the reasons why I did it anyway were 1) Part of me hoped that what I was taking was a lethal dose and 2) I wanted to feel something for once, which is pretty stupid, but I was in a very very bad place mentally at the time so, please, bear with me. The effects were pretty nasty indeed: other than spending hours losing considerable amounts of blood on the toilet, I had insane tremors, fever, dilated pupils and felt like I wasn't real. Thankfully, it went away in a couple of days.
As of right now, I may have found a good source for SN, and, after making sure it's legit, I will buy it and start planning my exit with that. I'm predicting that it will be hard, since not only the potential source is on the opposite side of the world from where I am, but I also live with my family and might not even have anti-emetics in the house. The past attempts I described above have helped me become desentisized to the idea of ingesting something dangerous and carefully planning out and carrying out these elaborate and complex matters. I genuinely hope I can wrap all of this up by the end of summer if not as soon as possible, but I guess only time will tell. The plan B is to just drag myself through the next school year like I did for the one that just finished, though I am not sure I can keep myself together enough to do it a second time.
To anyone that has read to the end, thank you for dedicating your precious time to reading my story. If you have any questions or would like to get in touch, please do not be afraid to do so, as I would be more than glad to have human interactions.
-HM
