Just Random Stuff

Final Release

Warnings: Self Harm. Suicide. Homophobic words. (Sorry).

My release is something that people don't like to admit. It's nothing rude, nothing like that, but it's a really bad thing. Something that no one should have to go through. Especially for the second time.

Last year, I almost died. I planned my death earlier, maybe January or February, this year. So yeah, I was suicidal. And, with being suicidal, comes a lot of things. Self harm,  extreme problems, crying constantly,  and just feeling plain worthless. Yes, I did feel all these things. I did do all these things. And looking back,  I'm disgusted with myself. I was building smaller problems into massive ones, and worrying over bigger problems, that were worth worrying about. Instead of dealing with these and facing them, what did I turn do: self harm. Self harm is horrible. I can only speak on my own behalf, obviously,  but it was. It was truly horrible. At the time, it feels like such a great, amazing release. Then, after,  it was such a pain in the arse hiding them. I loved the look of little, and big, cuts on my arm. But that's the most difficult place to hide. So I went to my ankle. I still have slight marks from were I did it. There's nothing on my wrist. Wow. Aren't I such a massive liar.

Slowly, I recovered. With the slightest of help from my school, and a massive help from friends; I got through it. I learnt so many things on that journey,  that started over 13 months ago. I got rid of some of the things I would cut with, and became a much happier person. Or so I thought.

The first time I tried to kill myself, was on a school day. I had told my mum I felt extremely ill, which was true. I mainly just wanted the day off to plan my suicide. I planned to strangle myself. Throughout that day, I prepared my rope, wrote a couple letters to different people, that are still saved on my computer. I was just about ready to do it, when the school day ended, and my sister was home. I had wanted to be dead for a few hours before she got home. I didn't want to be saved. I still wish I had done it earlier.

The second, went worst then the first. I collected as many tablets from around my house as I could without getting noticed. I hid them all in a tub, hidden at the end of my bed. I'll do it tomorrow night  I thought. What I didn't take into account for was that my parents would tidy my room, and find my tub. That was how they found out about it all. Those few days were one of the worst. I just want to die. I hate having all this shitty pressure on me. Fucking kill me now. I would constantly think like this. I still do sometimes.

I should be over all this now. It's been over 5 months now since you last did anything. Not really. It's been about 24 hours, or if you count the one just now, about 10 minutes ago. I had another release. I have been doing so for the last week. If you read the last chapter,  you'll understand why. I've had such a hellish week.

Why talk about it now? Because, I want other people to know that they're not alone. I know no one actually really reads these, but I can try. Even if it's only one person, there's one more person saved. I hope.

I should just do it. No one would miss you. Why would they? You're just a f*g who doesn't deserve to live. Bitch. Go fucking die. You should listen to you're friends, if you can even call them that, you should go and kill yourself. Go fuck up your wrists and ankle and stomach and thighs. Fat f*g. There's your new name. Fat f*g. Abnormal. Freak. Listen to them. Go jump off a bridge. You deserve this pain.
Constantly going off in my head. The voice of reason is very easily drowned out from all the stuff, all true stuff, that comes out of the voice of *whatever the fuck the word is*. Once a-fucking-gain. I should die.

AN: Sorry for how depressing/sad this chapter is, but it's a part of my life right now. Everything I've said in these chapters are the truth. I don't want to be fake. I have felt like that, I have done those things, and I am going through it again right now. Sorry for the downer. But what about you? Tell me your stories dealing with these types of things in le comments. Vote, comment. I'm not arsed. I just want to sleep, insomnia is a bitch. Anyway, bye. Time to go carve out my wrists again. Bye.