{April 4, 2014}   Why Can’t You Kill Me **trigger**

If only death could come so easy, so softly and silently. I don’t think pills work, they take too long, and are effective in 22% of cases. The ratio sux if you want to die and not see all the faces of people who think they care standing by your bed with sad aghast faces, snivelling of why you would do that. Yes, you are there then, where are you now. I know where you are now, thinking I am fine, having a bed day, I will get over it. I don’t need you when I’m in the hospital bed, maybe I don’t need you at all, all you make me do is live this cycle over and over again. Save me, pander me, pat me, hope you’ve fixed me. Then get mad at me, when low and behold, I’m still that sick twisted person inside with the pain and the hurt and the rage that threatens to swallow me, everyday, or have you forgotten, I am still that mess you want to forget exists.


I read many sites today, the quickest, easiest and least messy way to die is with carbon monoxide, except you need an old car, all the new cars with emission parameters take much longer, and my hybrid for sure would take forever, in which case I could read a book and then slumber into oblivion.

Next, slit your wrists, get into a nice hot bath and let life flow out of you blissfully. As long as someone finds you relatively quick you wont be a smelly rotten corpse. It could be art, you could do your hair and make up first and wear a pretty white flowing dress. Just can’t cry or you’d ruin the canvas with mascara smudges and puffy eyes.

Hanging is so ugly but kids do it all the time so how hard could it be?

I’d like to run my road off the cliff, I drive by enough, but I have the fear of not dying being a paraplegic and having more pity eyes on me. Of course, now you’d have no choice but to acknowledge that I am never getting well. You’d have to pander to me, soft pedal, spoon feed but maybe the harsh words would stop and guilt would be reversed, instead of my feeling guilty for being inferior you can feel guilty that I am now in all ways, inferior.

Death, I hear you, your puppeteer and I have some unfinished business this weekend. We’re playing with pain. Running through the fields of loathing. Revelling in being alone and twisted and anguished with no one no one no one to make us feel bad, for being bad, for acting bad, for wanting death.




Hawkruh says:

I too want to not be like this any more – but I want to see my son grow, and I know I would be hurting others, so I stay, for them. Hopefully some day I will want to stay – for me too. Life is precious, I just don’t want to feel the depression and sadness I do, for seemingly no reason.

The Silent Messenger says:

The blood the flows through my body is as red my hair. I must ask myself this. Am I a coward for fearing death, though I consider it often? Or am I brave for not giving up? What do I gain from my death, and what do I lose by living? I hold on, I tell myself it will get better but it never seems to. Now I take a stand. I must confront my demons, they have nowhere left to hide. I am the Silent Messenger, but the message I bring to you is nowhere near silent. Your demons must be fought or they will make you weaker. Your fear, your hate, your pain will be used against you until you finally give up and end your life. It is never too late until then. Though I do not know you, I love you as a sibling. Though I love you, I do not pity you. Your life is what you make of it. The question is, do you fight to improve your life or do you end it? Either way, you will be seeing me and the next message I bring you will find a place in your mind and heart though you will never hear nor see my words.

Mandi says:

I like your writing style. Not to mention that I could completely relate to everything you said. I, too, often think of what the best way would be. The easiest. The one most surely to work. I would hate for it to not and then have the effects of that hanging over me the rest of my life; as if I don’t cause enough crap for people. I’ve come to the conclusion that the most sure way may be to drive off a cliff into water, but to set it up so I could not possibly save myself, or escape the car. I’d hopefully drown before they’d get to me, and that would be that.

I’m not sure if it’s twisted that we’re discussing this, but I’m assuming you wouldn’t be shocked by my response. I’m sorry you hurt so much. I do too, so I am right there with you. I wish I could do or say more to ease your pain, but thank you for sharing what you go through.

I am not shocked, we all feel this. In my calm moments I do wonder how we can think these things but it never seems so incredible to do so, it’s wired into our psyche and our job is to fight it. This is what people cannot understand, is we have to fight to control these feelings, they are always there versus a “normal” person who may get them occasionally when they feel bad or sad.

Keep strong and find the one person, thought, or thing that will pull you back towards the light. Believe me, it does not always works and we will go down the barrel and have to claw ourselves back up, but there are times where the thought of you child, parent, loved one, a future thought can be the tiny flick that rights us.

k3mistry says:

I know exactly how you feel, I go through the same motions everyday wishing that everything will end somehow or somewhat be it by my own hands or from some external force. I wish I can cease to exist, almost everything else in my world can seem meaningless and pointless.

I am like a broken record, telling myself at the end of the each day that tomorrow will be better but nothing seems to change. I wish there is something I can do or say to make you feel better or others like myself, but we all know the futility in a wish like that.

I do hope you can stay afloat and keep your head above the water and ride it out. I know I will, or at least die trying (pun intended).

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