i am back because being suicidal makes me feel so utterly guilty. i dont like to talk about it because i feel dramatic and like it was so long ago and i should be over it. but my first and only relationship was a very toxic one when we were both young and lasted like 6/8 months, it was constant emotional work. i knew i was stepping into a relationship with someone depressed, but i was too, so i thought surely we can support each other, but on day 3 he told me this is the day he planned to die and that hes only alive because i said yes to dating him. (should have left then) but it was very effective at making me feel like i was stuck. it was day after day of me doing *exactly* what he said or he would hurt himself. he wanted me to come over every weekend and wanted to have sex every time, he wanted me to go to his any day he felt like i was being too distant, when there was a lockdown he wanted to be on video call constantly. he would pressure me into pda and saying i love you even though he knew they were things ive never been able to do and they make me very uncomfortable with anyone. every conversation was sexual or about how depressed he was and how the only reason he was alive was because of me. if i refused to do something or wasnt in the mood he would go catatonic and wouldnt speak to me or look at me or move at all, or worse he would try to kill himself in front of me. if i showed that i was upset (cried or expressed anger) he would yell and say that he would kill himself one day and there was nothing i could do about it. he would tell me about all the things in his house he could use to kill himself and would dangle them over my head so i was constantly on edge. we would joke to our friends about how theres a suicide pact where one of us dies and we all die, but with him it was real, i to this day (4 years on) feel so so responsible for him that if he died i would feel like it was my fault, i think i would have killed myself if he had died. i got close to killing myself that year. really close. i became so depressed i didnt move, i lost 10kgs and people called it happy weight loss because i was in the honeymoon phase, but it was just from being too depressed to eat, and all my energy being used on keeping him alive. i was so self conscious of my body because for the first time in my life someone was looking at it, i wanted to be skinnier, i wanted to look better, but by the time id been in the relationship a while i had given up on looking good because my body didnt feel like mine. i kept losing weight because i didnt care to look after my body. i was making sure my boyfriend was eating everyday, i would tell him how he looks good but he should be healthier, how he should drink water and i would check on him everyday to make sure he was healthy. i was keeping him alive, and i was covering my body with scars in all the places he liked because i didnt want him to like them anymore. i wanted a break. the only way i could gain control over my body again was to take all the parts of me that were desirable and to cut them up. it was punishment and survival. i was doing a bad job at keeping him alive and he told me that everyday he would text me telling me how he missed me. he would scream it at me everytime he called me to convince me to come over. he stood over me and sternly told me how bad of a carer i was everytime he would message "ive taken 1" "ive taken 4" "9". him telling me that his mum has no service there was no one to save him still rings in my ears. my mum telling me that whatever happens its never my fault still rings in my ears. lying there facing the wall involuntarily crying while he fucks me to the sound of his fucking playlist, his fucking playlist rings in my ears. i was crying from my gut. my brain had checked out. but something deep inside me cried. and even still. it was my fault. i had to comfort him again, tell him he did nothing wrong, hes just a perfect little baby and i dont know what came over me, like i hadnt been suffering for the past 6 months.
i dont want to be like him. i dont want my death to be a fear looming over my friends and familys heads, i dont want them to worry and suffer and do whatever i want, lest i die. i just want to disappear one day. i want to be gone like a memory. no one finds me or grieves or worries. i dont want to be an inconvenience in death like i am in life. i think thats why im still here. i want to find the perfect way to leave. i dont want anyone to suspect a thing. im here one day, gone the next, off like the wind. i feel like i have one shot. maybe more if i fail without anyone knowing, in a way where i can move on like nothing happened. go for a camping trip for a week, try hanging myself, fail and return at the end like its all fine. i feel like my suicidal ideation isnt real because i dont know if ill ever do it. i dont know if ill ever CTB but its there. its a constant thought. i feel like maybe i think about it more than most people. im here after all.
i always say ill never follow through if asked, and for the most part its true. but i feel like. im mainly healthy. i dont have any disorders, mental or physical. im depressed an anxious but nothing major. ive had a fairly happy life. my parents split, but so did every other kid on the planets, its not new and didnt really effect me much growing up. im a weird person, but i just cant seem to move on, i cant seem to get past the idea of killing myself. its followed me since i was a kid. there is nothing majorly mentally ill about me but im just fucking not content or satisfied or whatever, i feel insufficient, like ill never be enough.
i dont want to be like him. i dont want my death to be a fear looming over my friends and familys heads, i dont want them to worry and suffer and do whatever i want, lest i die. i just want to disappear one day. i want to be gone like a memory. no one finds me or grieves or worries. i dont want to be an inconvenience in death like i am in life. i think thats why im still here. i want to find the perfect way to leave. i dont want anyone to suspect a thing. im here one day, gone the next, off like the wind. i feel like i have one shot. maybe more if i fail without anyone knowing, in a way where i can move on like nothing happened. go for a camping trip for a week, try hanging myself, fail and return at the end like its all fine. i feel like my suicidal ideation isnt real because i dont know if ill ever do it. i dont know if ill ever CTB but its there. its a constant thought. i feel like maybe i think about it more than most people. im here after all.
i always say ill never follow through if asked, and for the most part its true. but i feel like. im mainly healthy. i dont have any disorders, mental or physical. im depressed an anxious but nothing major. ive had a fairly happy life. my parents split, but so did every other kid on the planets, its not new and didnt really effect me much growing up. im a weird person, but i just cant seem to move on, i cant seem to get past the idea of killing myself. its followed me since i was a kid. there is nothing majorly mentally ill about me but im just fucking not content or satisfied or whatever, i feel insufficient, like ill never be enough.
