Yesterday I started to create this website. Until now I really hated html & css, but this is/was actually lots of fun. I hope I will keep working on this, and add more stuff. I usually lose interest in stuff like this in a few days. Every day a new obsession. It's fucking annoying. We will see...
Today was a kinda relaxed. Went on a little walk in the morning in hopes of finding the cat that sometimes hangs around here, but sadly I didn't see him/her. Other then that I continued painting my mandalas, which was fun. Someone indirectly called me boring because of it. I spent the rest of the day being in my room, watching youtube and playing games with my friend online. The Internet here is fucking terrible. I'm scared of coming home, the real life waits for me there. Maybe I'll just kill myself the moment I get home. I have to somehow intergrate me in a community. I think that'll be good for me.
Scared of going home. Have some suicidal thoughts, but don't know how deep they go. Wish Do and Ti were right. But still, they were wrong about free will. There are so many things I would like to do, but in the end I just don't do any of these things. Stuck in a sick body that ruines my mind.
Still scared of going home, but no more suicidal thoughts. Went out with some friends here in rehab. We were saying goodbye to a person leaving. We drank quite a bit of alcohol, but for some reason I wasn't feeling anything. Maybe I ate too much beforehand? I dunno. I don't have much experience with alcohol, but I'm starting to understand why people drink together, it's a great way to bond. Had a great talk with one of the patients here. She told me about her past and experience, that it is okay to try different things, she did it too and still does. She told me about all the differnet jobs she had had, and the different directions she took in life. This comversation was more impactful for me than 5 weeks of rehab. She really took a lot of fear away in regards to my future. I am at this point again were I'm convinced I will do so much new things when I get home. But I know the feeling, it never actually happens. I just end up sitting in front of my PC as always. I will try to let myself be tested for other mental illneses. In rehab I am doing some kognitive testing, which has shown me how bad my concentration actually is. Maybe I will get medication that can help me with that. Maybe this is the solution to all my problems ...
Just got home from rehab. It's nice to be home but now the real life begins again. Need to find a job pretty soon, probably wont get much money from the insurance when this month ends. I'm scared of getting a job because I hated my internships and my regular job. I was treated like shit. One boss literally tried to rip me off. Without my stepsister I would have gotten only 2 weeks of payment despite working there for 4.5 weeks. When I started studying I took a job at a grocery store. This job made me miserable. Every day I woke up, knowing that I have to go work there, I wanted to kill myself. Pretty sure it's a big part of why I tried to kill myself after one year of studying / working.
A friend of mine recently told me that he took some Quetiapin (probably a high dose) and kinda felt high. Now I am sitting at home, staring at my Quetiapin and wanting to abuse it. I feel like I'm one accident away from becoming an addict again.
first vew days have been good. meeting some friends tomorrow. I would rather sleep long and do nothing all day.
things are good right now. I joined a program that keeps me busy, don't know if I belong there tho. A lot of people in this program are really disabled. They couldn't survive on their own. Some of them have lived there for 15 years!!! That's why I don't know if I belong there, I can live on my own, I am not that disabled.
Feeling weird again. Thinking about suicide a lot. Not actually kms but thinking about what my relationship with suicide is like. I'm kinda infatuated with it. Maybe thats what happens when you are suicidal for too long? I've been watching a suicide compilation on kaotic from time to time. Watched it probably 10 times. Í only now realize how close I've come to kms. I was home alone over summer break. I was suppost to head back to Uni next week, wwhich I didnÄt plan to be doing, cause I'd sworn myself to not return there ever again (I actually did at one point but thats a deffernt story for a differnet time). I met with all the important people in my life in that summer. To kinda say goodbye to everyone. It was a weird feeling. Obviously they didn't know my plans. My sisters kinda made fun of how depressed I looked (In a sibling kind of way. Sounds worse than it is.). I still remember lying to my parents about meeting a friend when I was actually out to buy supplies for my suicide. I wonder if anyone that looked at me knew what my mission was. Was the guy that sold me the rope able to see through my facade? Or the lady that sold me the nitrous? Funny story: at the store where I bought the nitrous I combed through their vinyl collection. A security guard watched me the whole time probably thinking that I was going to steal some shit. If he only knew. That whole trip was surreal. A mix of emotions. But I was kinda relaxed. Anyway, back to the day it all took place. As I said I was home alone. I decided that this was the opportunity I had to take. Weirdly enough I never thought about what my last minutes should be like, so I let my emotions take the lead. I said goodbye to my 3 dogs. I kissed them all on the forehead and wished them a good rest of their lives and told them that I would love them for eternity (and I still do). I went back into my room, gathered some pictures of my sisters, as they were the last thing I would want to see and I thought they would know how important they were to me if they found them at the death scene. Then I put my passport in my hoodies pocket so to make it easier to identify my body. Don't know how I came to that conclusiont because my parents would have been the first to find me but I digress. I tried the nitrous which was actually kinda fun (kinda addict brain there), just to test how it would work. I liked it too much, because I wanted to do more and decided that I want to use up half of my supply to enjoy being high for the last time. That decision might be the reason I am still alive. So I went up into the attic, hung the rope, made the noose and filled my nitrous container. Next I layed out the pictures in front of me, put my head into the noose and thightened it so if I were to pass out it would close in on my neck and throat. (Yes I am a pussy who couldn't take the pain, so I wanted to knock myself out and feel no pain) I stared inhaling the gas and got very light headed, but in that numbed state I counldn't refill my canister cause my hands didn't have the coordination to do so cause I was high. So I tried again and again but couldn't knock myself out completely. I remember hearing like warning sirens in my head, it was weird. I kinda hung in the rope but not enough to suffocate me (fuck). Then I ran out of nitrous. I gave up cause I'm a fucking pussy and hid the rope and empty canister, came back downstairs and searched in the bathroom for pills and shit. In my panic I mixed up codein with something else less effective. So I tried to down them all but it obviously did nothing but make me sick. Thats was my second pathetic suicide attemt. Fuck me. Who the fuck is that stupid? But I learned from my mistakes and my next suicide attempt is going to work. As the chronically suicidal person I am, I now have two guaranteed successful plans:
The first is to drink a lot of alcohol (as this makes it easier, which is something I only thought of now) and jump infront of a train. I live in a small town near a train station, so I would walk to somewhere outside of town where the train is still pretty fast and get decapitated. I would lay neck first on the tracks in hopes of it killing me before I feel anything because of nerves in the spine and shit. Killed by train is a pretty successful method plus alcohol it seems like a guaranteed death. -- The second idea developed pretty recent. A friend of mine got himself some guns and wants to go with me to a gun range. Thats was my dream suicide in my teens. I fantasized about shooting myself a lot back then but never knew a way to acquire a gun. But my friend and probably many people there would be fucked for life. So this is not my favoured method. Let's call this plan B. If everything else fails this is still my way out. Maybe I will go shooting with him sometime to learn about the guns so I increase my chances of being successful. Been seeing too many failed suicide attempts with guns so I want to be prepared.
And that folks is the mind of a sick fuck for you. If you want to execute me I will send you my address.