LunarLight
i'm a loser, a failure
- Apr 3, 2024
- 635
Today I got my SN. I ordered propranolol and metoclopramide from an overseas pharmacy, and clonazepam on the DN.
I could leave today. 30g of SN in 60ml of water (I'm a fat bitch).
But I want to make it peaceful and make sure I won't throw up too much.
My partner suggested to buy vitamins for me, this one especially:
sanctioned-suicide.net
But idk, I don't really believe VITAMINS will magically cure me.
The thing is, I lost hope.
Next week my partner is on vacation. We're gonna do stuff we never do, like, go out.
I'm gonna spend my last days with them. I'll try to enjoy them as much as I can.
Even if I'm pathologically unable to enjoy things.
Tonight we ate some burgers in a fast food restaurant and I was crying so much my partner couldn't finish their burger.
They want me alive so bad. Poor baby. I'm so sorry. All I do is dragging them down.
I'm sure they eventually will be better off with someone else. Someone who can enjoy things. Do things. Make them dream. Instead of worrying them so bad.
Sure, it'll take time. But the thing is, they have time. They're 26. The sooner I CTB, the sooner they'll heal. Time makes things only worse.
I'm a trans woman and I hardly pass. People in the streets keep giving me black looks. I'm so sick of it. A man looked me in the eyes for ten seconds when I left the bar and I swear I saw such violence in his eyes I ran for my life.
Nobody takes me seriously, not even so-called "queer people". I'm not even a "man in a dress": I don't wear dresses, I wish I could, but I'm so afraid of being assaulted. I live in constant fear for my life. And I just look ridiculous. Nobody respects me.
Maybe they're right, after all. Maybe I'm just mentally ill and deserve to die because I've wished I was pretty girl in a dress since I was 6. Maybe that's what I am. A degenerate. Maybe the earth will be better off when I take care of it by myself. No need to put me in a camp. I'll join the 41% club and be laughed at by so many people. "Was/were" as they say.
I'd rather be laughed at than cried over. Please don't be sad, baby. I'm not worthy of it. Please move on, find someone else, someone who will make you happy. Because I can't. I simply can't.
I fucking hate my life. It's over.
Hopefully, one last week. Good memories for our last times together. I hope they'll forget them soon enough though, I don't want them to hurt.
I just wish I could disappear, fall into oblivion and be totally forgotten.
I feel like a fucking clown. My life was already hard when I was a man, because depression, anxiety, autism, ADHD, C-PTSD are bitches. But now I'm socially dead.
I remember when I used to sing my songs in a bar in the city I used to live in before. I remember when that obnoxious bald guy, who already had made fun out loud of me and my songs, stood just next to the stage and repeated aloud while I was performing, "yeah, a chick with a dick, haha". I finished my song and said, "I will not sing there anymore". And part of the audience started booing, screaming slurs at me.
I was offering them the depths of my heart and they were screaming slurs at me.
They took music away from me. My only reason to live.
They want me fucking dead. Fair enough. They've won. They'll certainly get it.
(As I was leaving the bar, obnoxious bald guy provoked me one last time, making fun of my last song. I would have punched them in the face if I was not afraid he would file a complaint against me. So I pushed them and he fell on the ground, screaming my name, taken aback. And I left.
He was banned for six weeks and returned afterwards. The boss, who likes playing the wokest guy when he's promoting his bar, did not tell me his ban was temporary until the day before his ban expired. I never returned.)
Hopefully, it's over next week. I'll drink the magic potion, pop the security pills and pass on the other side.
I'm scared though. I'm scared of the void.
But I shouldn't be scared. I'll return to nothingness. It's like falling asleep. You don't even realize you're falling asleep.
I will just never wake up from this sleep.
"Death is nothing to us. When we exist, death is not; and when death exists, we are not. All sensation and consciousness ends with death and therefore in death there is neither pleasure nor pain."
Thanks Epicurus for helping me face death.
What a waste. I was so talented. So smart. I could have accomplished so many great things.
We only have one life, and this one is gone to waste because my brain is fucking ill.
This is so fucking wrong.
Sorry. Thanks for reading.
I could leave today. 30g of SN in 60ml of water (I'm a fat bitch).
But I want to make it peaceful and make sure I won't throw up too much.
My partner suggested to buy vitamins for me, this one especially:
L-Methylfolate as a Monotherapy for Treatment-Resistant Depression
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7572139/ Just learned about it. After a quick research, I noticed it's barely tackled on the forum. It's never been offered as a therapy by any psychiatrist I've seen either. "after years of searching for an effective treatment and "doing everything...
sanctioned-suicide.net
But idk, I don't really believe VITAMINS will magically cure me.
The thing is, I lost hope.
Next week my partner is on vacation. We're gonna do stuff we never do, like, go out.
I'm gonna spend my last days with them. I'll try to enjoy them as much as I can.
Even if I'm pathologically unable to enjoy things.
Tonight we ate some burgers in a fast food restaurant and I was crying so much my partner couldn't finish their burger.
They want me alive so bad. Poor baby. I'm so sorry. All I do is dragging them down.
I'm sure they eventually will be better off with someone else. Someone who can enjoy things. Do things. Make them dream. Instead of worrying them so bad.
Sure, it'll take time. But the thing is, they have time. They're 26. The sooner I CTB, the sooner they'll heal. Time makes things only worse.
I'm a trans woman and I hardly pass. People in the streets keep giving me black looks. I'm so sick of it. A man looked me in the eyes for ten seconds when I left the bar and I swear I saw such violence in his eyes I ran for my life.
Nobody takes me seriously, not even so-called "queer people". I'm not even a "man in a dress": I don't wear dresses, I wish I could, but I'm so afraid of being assaulted. I live in constant fear for my life. And I just look ridiculous. Nobody respects me.
Maybe they're right, after all. Maybe I'm just mentally ill and deserve to die because I've wished I was pretty girl in a dress since I was 6. Maybe that's what I am. A degenerate. Maybe the earth will be better off when I take care of it by myself. No need to put me in a camp. I'll join the 41% club and be laughed at by so many people. "Was/were" as they say.
I'd rather be laughed at than cried over. Please don't be sad, baby. I'm not worthy of it. Please move on, find someone else, someone who will make you happy. Because I can't. I simply can't.
I fucking hate my life. It's over.
Hopefully, one last week. Good memories for our last times together. I hope they'll forget them soon enough though, I don't want them to hurt.
I just wish I could disappear, fall into oblivion and be totally forgotten.
I feel like a fucking clown. My life was already hard when I was a man, because depression, anxiety, autism, ADHD, C-PTSD are bitches. But now I'm socially dead.
I remember when I used to sing my songs in a bar in the city I used to live in before. I remember when that obnoxious bald guy, who already had made fun out loud of me and my songs, stood just next to the stage and repeated aloud while I was performing, "yeah, a chick with a dick, haha". I finished my song and said, "I will not sing there anymore". And part of the audience started booing, screaming slurs at me.
I was offering them the depths of my heart and they were screaming slurs at me.
They took music away from me. My only reason to live.
They want me fucking dead. Fair enough. They've won. They'll certainly get it.
(As I was leaving the bar, obnoxious bald guy provoked me one last time, making fun of my last song. I would have punched them in the face if I was not afraid he would file a complaint against me. So I pushed them and he fell on the ground, screaming my name, taken aback. And I left.
He was banned for six weeks and returned afterwards. The boss, who likes playing the wokest guy when he's promoting his bar, did not tell me his ban was temporary until the day before his ban expired. I never returned.)
Hopefully, it's over next week. I'll drink the magic potion, pop the security pills and pass on the other side.
I'm scared though. I'm scared of the void.
But I shouldn't be scared. I'll return to nothingness. It's like falling asleep. You don't even realize you're falling asleep.
I will just never wake up from this sleep.
"Death is nothing to us. When we exist, death is not; and when death exists, we are not. All sensation and consciousness ends with death and therefore in death there is neither pleasure nor pain."
Thanks Epicurus for helping me face death.
What a waste. I was so talented. So smart. I could have accomplished so many great things.
We only have one life, and this one is gone to waste because my brain is fucking ill.
This is so fucking wrong.
Sorry. Thanks for reading.
