G
GraySloth
New Member
- Jan 26, 2025
- 1
I have been suicidal since I was a young child. Since nearly as far back as I can remember I have despised being alive. That feeling has never changed, never wavered, in all this time not once, not for a single moment. If anything it has only gotten worse. I can hardly believe it honestly, if it wasn't so horrible, so miserable, I might even laugh at how perfectly life conspires to torture me. For a long time, I kept going with the attitude of "Just one more day" and back then one more day wasn't so bad, eventually that didn't work anymore and I started trying to leave but that didn't work out, so I just gave up on that. Then I just decided to "live with it", I just won't care anymore, eventually the reaper would come for me, and in the meantime, nothing matters, so I don't gotta worry about anything. So I just lived with a stoic detachment from it all, and I wouldn't describe that as good or nice, but it's tolerable. I have done some stuff along the way, acquired some nice things, made some friends even, but I fucking hate it all. It all causes me nothing but grief. I regret it, I regret making it this far, I just can't believe it. I just can't believe I am here wishing I could tell myself 15 years ago "It gets so much worse than you can imagine, maybe try to leave a little harder" At this point I don't leave purely out of stubbornness, that after all of this, I shouldn't be the one who has to do it. It's almost funny to be here still and wishing that I wasn't, doing all the things that should make it better but somehow only make it worse. How long can it go on? How much worse could it get? It's such a fine balance too because if it gets too much worse an exit might present itself so it really has to ride that line between "this fucking sucks!" and "holy fuck a way out!" So here I am, lower than I have ever been, lower than I could have ever imagined being. At this point, all day every day, I just pray for the end of the world.