I spend too much time on google killing myself. I read many books about suicide, watched many movies and documents about suicide, if there was a suicide subject at school, I would be a valedictorian.
Often times I will pay attention to news reports about suicide, then think about how people kill themselves, how they are arranged, what to prepare to calculate the percentage involved. . Because in many countries around the world, suicide is against the law, I have to go to the Deep Web to find facts and real information, with research related to behavior that scientists do not allow publicly on the World Wide Web. With all the sick stuff in the Deep Web, I probably only used it to find the scientific evidence base for killing myself.
There is one parameter I read a long time ago that freaked me out: Only 1 person actually dies out of 25 that commit suicide. The success rate of the year was four times higher than that of women. I am a person who is afraid of failure so I like to come up with specific plans and 12983102 backup plans after a whole life is too dark and everything goes wrong, and I will study until I want to die, i have to suck it up right away.
Of course, life, or death, is not what we want. I have committed suicide twice, and if you still have not guessed, then I fail both.
For the first time, I followed the suicidal style for a beginner depression: Take sleeping pills, rent a hotel, sit in the bath, and cut off my hands. A few minutes I started to feel tired and evaporated, a few minutes later I started to feel cold all over, a few more minutes I lost feeling in my body. The mistake here is that I sit in the tub, the red water starts to fill up, spills over the floor, and I think it wouldn't be good if I had someone wipe the blood. So I got up to find a mop. By the way, I called an ambulance. The sirens after eight hundred and forty seconds I counted from the time I hung up, the next day I was returned to society in a steady state and some bandages.
The second time, about a year later, when I had reached the intermediate level of suicide. I confidently went on to use a more complex method - helium gas. This was calculated by me right after my discharge last year, trying a variety of installations with a full range of devices mostly bought at home appliances: a helium bottle, a canopy machine. gas, a large plastic bag I stitched around the piece, a 10/8 mg PVC tube and a couple of tranquilizers. People call this drowning, when you grab the plastic bag over your head, and breathe normally, but there is no oxygen in the helium, so even though you breathe and the body doesn't react and suffocate, you will have brain death in about twenty minutes.
I came home from school, put the dirty clothes in the washing machine, went up to my room and put the plastic bag on my head. Press the air out, turn on the helium, wait for the bag to inflate, take a breath, and put the plastic bag over your face.
I woke up after twenty minutes with a headache, took out my pocket, went downstairs, I pressed the wash button, and got my books ready for the next day.
I still remember the first time I called the suicide hotline. I didn't even have a suicide plan at that time, I just wanted to call and see what it was like. The sister with a very gentle voice on the other end told me that most of the suicide survivors regretted it. That she used to jump the bridge too, but when she fell in the middle and was about to touch the water, she saw the problems that she was so desperate about and the problems were so small, suddenly she panicked and wanted to live, but it was almost too late. I told her to tell the truth, because after two unsuccessful suicide attempts, I felt nothing but finding one more thing that I failed. I always quarreled with her, I don't have any problem that makes me want to kill myself, because I live, I want to kill myself. I don't want to die, I don't want to kill myself, but most of all, I don't want to live. I am not a high school girl who committed suicide out of love, also not because of poverty, because of difficulty, because of school, for class, for work, for society that wants to die. I also like loneliness. My only problem is that I have a figure, a mind, a heart, born in a well-off class where people don't give you the right to be sad, to live your best, to live as well as you can but then died. My problem is that I simply believe that living is a process that is too time consuming, too laborious, while at the end of the race everyone is the loser.
I really, if there was a choice, wouldn't choose to die. It was too painful for both the traveler and the stayer. What I want here, is I want to disappear. The memories are wiped away, the sadness disappears, one morning I don't wake up because I don't exist. Life goes on, I've never been here, everyone gets up for breakfast without thinking about this brother, this friend, this colleague. I simply do not exist, there never will be.
The only things that can make suicide worse are the negotiations, the talk, the sharing about suicide. The good thing is, usually no one who has or is attempting to commit suicide talks about suicide. It's a private, a safe corner, and only people completely ignorant of this talk about suicide as a mealtimes story.
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Lỗi - Error 404 English Translation
Literatura Faktu"Finally, my autobiography book, Error 404 is out, after 2 years of work. It actually took me only 6 months to write 99% of the book, but couldn't write the ending for a long, long time. I wrote a book about a child who was sexually abused, unhappy...
