FunctionalDepressive

After months of debate, I settled on hanging myself in the closet. A quiet way to go, unsightly, but will take a while to be noticed. I'll finally be free from this cage in my mind.

My story takes place in an alternate universe that for simplicity's sake here will be described as Earth plus magic.

My main character is a poor boy with magic potential who ends up befriending a witch. The witch helps damage control the mc's little sister who has a not-quite-terminal illness. Witches are despised by the current people in power so she is killed, leaving mc with nothing.

MC realizes the only way to get ahead will be to attend a magic academy, as they reward students handsomely for merit with things like monthly stipends, better room and board, access to restricted training and knowledge, and of course a better diploma and he is guaranteed a good job that will be able to su

I'm so tired of being told how to fix my life by other people. I know how to do it. And yes, it's incredibly hard. Maybe, just maybe, I post these to get the things I can't face to face.

Empathy, compassion, some sort of freaking emotional connection. Otherwise I might as well be asleep. I'd love to spend all my time asleep. You get to lay in a nice bed and try to let everything go. I usually fail at that last part.

I just think about all my failings, all the things I should be doing, all the time. I know other people have these moments, but they can let it go. I can't.

I work 60 hours a week, sometimes more. It's hard to get anything done. Nobody cares. Everyone else has their own probl

Nothing matters. Nobody cares. Nothing does anything to me anymore. I'm just numb. Let me waste away in peace.

So I'm going to be 5000 percent honest about me.

I'm in the army, I'm 21, and I just can't stop these suicidal thoughts, ideations, and circular thinking.

My life doesn't seem terrible but something something brick by brick blacked out all the sunlight something something.

I constantly feel like I'm holding it together for other people and never myself. But this sucks, and my brief months in therapy and on antidepressants haven't helped enough.

When I go into therapy in March, I'm 99% sure I will be committed and begin a long process of waiting to get medically discharged from the army.

Makes me feel like such a shit head, but people keep telling me being honest to my provider is what'

I tried and tried and tried. I gave all I had and then some until there was nothing left for myself. So here's my last apology.

Jesse. You must have felt a lot like I did. In constant pain and never wanting to be a burden. You wore a pretty good mask, a lot better than mine. I guess that's why it was such a shock when you cracked that mask with a bullet. I wish we could have had a serious talk. Maybe I'll see you on the other side.

David. I hope you find the love you never got at home. We were both neglected and I think that's why we clicked. Please don't kill yourself after me, you have someone who wants to love you. I know she broke you, but both of you are just scared. You deserve to be

I have an appointment in March where I am going to be extremely honest with my provider. I have never been honest when talking about this. It's a deep source of shame and embarrassment for me.

However I for see myself getting committed for outpatient or inpatient care and will most likely lose my job and have to move back home.

How is a son supposed to tell his mom that he was hospitalized because he can't see a reason to live?

I ask this mostly to the suicidal crowd because we all come to one huge emotional barrier. How do we cope with our family and friends at our funeral?

Isn't this such a ridiculous thing to worry about? You'll be gone, but still before then, you're so concerned with keeping up the facade and not wanting to be a burden.

At least that's why im still here. If I killed myself I know my friend would attempt too. My family would be broken. But should it concern me?

Logically, no. Emotionally, yes.

Sometimes I wish i was a no name orphan. It would be easier to end it all. Oh well, just me pondering on my broken mind on another sleepless night.

Hope is such a silly little thing. Combined with duty, it's the reason I'm still here. I have a duty not to make people cry at my funeral by waiting until they're gone. And yet I cling to this hope that doing the same thing over and over might lead to different results.

Nobody's going to come save me. Nobody is going to stop me from tightening the noose or pulling the trigger.

Nobody cares until you've been buried, or cremated, or what have you.

Nobody cares to save a dying man, they only care to cry at his funeral.

You know I'm depressed but I still can't trust you with my feelings. I know you mean well and you don't think I'm that bad. It is that bad.

My overall health is just slipping away. But you always just tell me it could be worse. You don't know that I'm suicidal.

How am I supposed to tell you that? Hey Mom sorry but this life thing is just awful and I can't see a way out.

You know I'm a reserved, quiet person. You know I bury things deep. You know I hate seeming like a burden to the point of irrationality.

But it's okay, someone has it worse.

I'm going to try and get into an iop or long term in patient next month. I don't know how you'll handle that, but my life is terrible.

I don't want

I've been working with BH and my pcm but I can't shake these thoughts. At best it's daily, at worst I have to struggle through hours of convincing myself not to do it.

I don't know what to do. I'll be the biggest piece of shit ever for getting chaptered and that will crush what's left of my self-esteem.

But I can't do this anymore.

It's always the same. These pills don't work, this therapy doesn't help, lets try another useless tactic.

What do you do when you're beyond help of psychologists, psychiatrists, and doctors?

No one fucking cares the way I need them too. Sure you can talk me down from ending it today, but what about tomorrow, or the day after, or the week after.

I think about it daily. I have attempts that no one knows about. I should be locked in an asylum. But I'm allowed to run free and will eventually be a name in the obituary.

I've had these questions for a long time, probably as long as I've been depressed and I doubt you guys will have answers, but here goes.

1. If you can't love yourself, how will others?

2. If you can't decide how to live or end your life on your terms, what's the point? Seems like I'm always accounting for others before myself.

3. If you can't change your locus from external to internal, are you really living?

4. If I choose to value my life based on relationships but have none/they are unfulfilling and I can't bring myself to change why bother?

5. If my mind was poisoned by unhealthy ideas and standards for relationships and I can recognize it, isn't it better for me to die alone than b

I'm still here. But I won't be posting here anymore. This is obviously a service I use improperly and that's not fair to all you cool people trying to help.

My psychologist helped me out a lot today and it was a stressful day. I'll spare you the details. I just want to thank you people for being there.

I have trouble with self-worth and many of you have great advice but in my sleep-deprived, emotionally unstable state so I disregarded it. I'm sorry for tossing your helpful words aside and wallowing in pity and hatred like a dingus.

I wouldn't expect to see activity from this account for a long time, if ever. I can't tell you how thankful I am as a neglected 21 year old child to feel safe