2Headpats4You
Recruit
★★
- Joined
- Sep 13, 2020
- Posts
- 181
I tried to kill myself some time ago and I should have died.
I planned it quite well. I wanted to die on a specific day of importance and I took great joy in doing things I usually found ardous for the last time, such as cutting my toe nails.
On the day of importance, I broke my tech stuff such as my router and electric toothbrush (that I had not used in quite a while); I broke my only credit card. I spared my phone.
I took a ceremonial blade and went out to the forest after writing goodbye posts on reddit and facebook without disclosing my location.
I had cleaned my up my place of residence neatly so that whoever stepped into it would find it neat and respectable, realizing that I had planned to kms quite well.
I had retaken my drivers license days before I planned to depart which was my last big accomplishment; the drivers licence truly makes the man.
What I didn't expect was that there would be a physical block that kept me from killing myself the way I intended. I wanted to die and proclaimed it loudly by word after a while but it was not physically possible. The block was not mental but physical. I managed to get a scar on my calf which has healed up half way now. Everything had gone well up until that point and I had had the end I had planned and wanted. It shock me as I truely wanted to die. I spent some time and walked around a bit in the wilderness. I thought that I would behead myself if I could or submit to a hungry tiger if it was there. I thought that I needed a poson brew or an executor due to this unexpected imperfection of my human body.
There were some supposedly deadly electric wires with warning signs. I touched them barefoot and did different combinations but they seemed to be powerless. Again, I wanted to die; it would be extremely embarassing and humiliating to survive. I had lived my most recent year as a neet, having failed my university studies and having my father pay for my neetdom while he thought I succeeded in the next year of my (equivalent of) masters degree. I decided to die of dehydration instead. I had over the years defeated that which kept me from kms.
I was found by a female police officer who swiftly and sneakily took the blade out of my pocket. I still don't know how they found me but they could perhaps have tracked my phone.
I had no choice but to follow her and some of her seemingly amoral male colleagues to the local hospital where I was never let alone to kms. This was the worst thing that could happen to me, not to my body but to my honor and dignity. I was berated of my possessions and moved to a psychiatric ward by a police escort against my will.
I was forced to stay there against my will. I did not get to smell free air. The air, food, bed, temperature and staff were appaling. It was impossible to feel good physically at any given time and I was plagued by survival guilt. I wanted to die with dignity and kms outside; It would be made impossible to do it inside the ward.
The staff members were merciless and retarded. They claimed to only follow orders and yet slandered me to eachother and the doctors.
Any healthy person would find the situation and atmosphere repulsive and quit in a few days at most.
The staff wore pride colour stripes as parts of their uniforms; I asked them about it and they all seemed to accept it without sanity or healthy homophobia.
I hunger striked for normal food the first 4 days. I drank a bit on the second evening as a planned to kms discretely that night although I failed as the pen I had gotten hold of failed to pierce the skin on my jugular. The staff hated that I striked as it gave me even the slightest grain of freedom and agency.
At one point they planned to electrocute me into a lobotomised state but I used my last and only ability to contact the outside world to put a stop to it.
They would have stopped me if they knew I could. My whole time there was filled of suffering, despair and humiliation. Keep in mind that I was only there for being accused of being suicidal.
The sewer looked like the nether parts of a human female. (image 2)
I was transferred to a better hospital after a bit over one week. It was better and I achieved physical comfort. They allowed me to used my phone and charger which which I ordered cyanide pills online.
The doctor there was better and let me out after a few days. The treatment of me was oligatory for anyone who tries to end there life in this country regardless of age, cause and sanity.
It is the pinnacle of this meme (image 1). Nothing they did improved my life. It was horrible and any life I would have had outside decayed further. I did not get to speak to any sane man until I was let out. Many of my possessions were taken from me such as my ceremonoal blade, one of my most priced possessions.
I realised some time after being let out that cyanolabs.com, the site I had used, was a scam; they take your money without even producing what they claim to deliver.
It can be found in the scam directory among similar sites.
I tried to made a death brew out of cherry pits as they contain an adequate amount of cyanide. Only frozen ones can be bought here in this time. I bought a mortar and 750 grams of frozen cherries without reading all the small text on the back of the box; it said that they were de-pitted by machine (which made them into an inedible repulsive soggy mush). Proof(image 3)
I live in such a denegrating first world prison that I'm not even allowed to buy complete cherries.
While I may losen up on revealing doxing information, I will not disclose my country of residence.
I would have walked into the desert in the Ummah if I could and I would have licked a dart frog were I in Brazil; they look too delicious to not get eaten.
I would like to have been of the indosphere as king cobras would not be impossible to find; they have a >99% mortality rate within one hour of no medical treatment.
I looked at a photograph from the indosphere while browsing wikipedia; the forest in indosphere looks like such a beautiful spiritually strengthening place even if my deepest most immovable spiritual loyalty lies in my real home nation.
My parents forced themselves upon me when I regained freedom. I have been unable to dehydrate myself to death as they would notice. My father will visit me tomorrow.
He knows that I failed at my studies now. He is such a boomer in that he trusts the projections of population stabilising and that the future will be bright.
I found it very hard to eat after regaining freedom. I had done everything I had wanted to have done and eaten everything I wanted to eat in my life. I had planned what I ate for some time.
I had used up my copes and found my days to be empty, even after being used to never speaking to people irl.
I had a great survival guilt after not even failing to kms with cyanide; I felt against eating and drinking as I live unjustly and should have died; My survival guilt remained.
My refrigerator is empty and I don't have a credit card. I have mostly eaten fruit and fast food burgers and I have not begain to brush my teeth; I don't even own a tooth brush.
I had planned everything so well and just not expected that the physical block was there. My survival guilt made it not about inceldom or my living standards but about my honor and dignity.
I would have done the whole month of August differently; I made several mistakes including not kms on time. It may have been the most important and most poorly executed month in my life.
The lack of possessions, friends and future that is in my life means that I don't have a new beginning, just a humiliatingly postponed end.
My life is so wrecked that I will not make it to the anniversary. I was ready to die. I survived the wrong day.
My advice is the following:
Don't seek help from the medical establishent; it will do you no good. The less they do to you, the better.
Don't post digital goodbye letters even if you don't disclose your location.
Don't break things like keys, credit cards or machines.
Ignore empty well wishes from "friends" such as virttue signalling female facebook friends who wouln't have sex with you to keep you alive.
Use a good method with deniability and high mortality like cyanide, dart frog or king cobra. I think a fast acting poison is preferrable as you don't lose consousness right away whithout knowing if your method worked while not being painful for longer than a few minutes. Cobra bites and cyanide poisoning are reversible unless it's a late stage.
I planned it quite well. I wanted to die on a specific day of importance and I took great joy in doing things I usually found ardous for the last time, such as cutting my toe nails.
On the day of importance, I broke my tech stuff such as my router and electric toothbrush (that I had not used in quite a while); I broke my only credit card. I spared my phone.
I took a ceremonial blade and went out to the forest after writing goodbye posts on reddit and facebook without disclosing my location.
I had cleaned my up my place of residence neatly so that whoever stepped into it would find it neat and respectable, realizing that I had planned to kms quite well.
I had retaken my drivers license days before I planned to depart which was my last big accomplishment; the drivers licence truly makes the man.
What I didn't expect was that there would be a physical block that kept me from killing myself the way I intended. I wanted to die and proclaimed it loudly by word after a while but it was not physically possible. The block was not mental but physical. I managed to get a scar on my calf which has healed up half way now. Everything had gone well up until that point and I had had the end I had planned and wanted. It shock me as I truely wanted to die. I spent some time and walked around a bit in the wilderness. I thought that I would behead myself if I could or submit to a hungry tiger if it was there. I thought that I needed a poson brew or an executor due to this unexpected imperfection of my human body.
There were some supposedly deadly electric wires with warning signs. I touched them barefoot and did different combinations but they seemed to be powerless. Again, I wanted to die; it would be extremely embarassing and humiliating to survive. I had lived my most recent year as a neet, having failed my university studies and having my father pay for my neetdom while he thought I succeeded in the next year of my (equivalent of) masters degree. I decided to die of dehydration instead. I had over the years defeated that which kept me from kms.
I was found by a female police officer who swiftly and sneakily took the blade out of my pocket. I still don't know how they found me but they could perhaps have tracked my phone.
I had no choice but to follow her and some of her seemingly amoral male colleagues to the local hospital where I was never let alone to kms. This was the worst thing that could happen to me, not to my body but to my honor and dignity. I was berated of my possessions and moved to a psychiatric ward by a police escort against my will.
I was forced to stay there against my will. I did not get to smell free air. The air, food, bed, temperature and staff were appaling. It was impossible to feel good physically at any given time and I was plagued by survival guilt. I wanted to die with dignity and kms outside; It would be made impossible to do it inside the ward.
The staff members were merciless and retarded. They claimed to only follow orders and yet slandered me to eachother and the doctors.
Any healthy person would find the situation and atmosphere repulsive and quit in a few days at most.
The staff wore pride colour stripes as parts of their uniforms; I asked them about it and they all seemed to accept it without sanity or healthy homophobia.
I hunger striked for normal food the first 4 days. I drank a bit on the second evening as a planned to kms discretely that night although I failed as the pen I had gotten hold of failed to pierce the skin on my jugular. The staff hated that I striked as it gave me even the slightest grain of freedom and agency.
At one point they planned to electrocute me into a lobotomised state but I used my last and only ability to contact the outside world to put a stop to it.
They would have stopped me if they knew I could. My whole time there was filled of suffering, despair and humiliation. Keep in mind that I was only there for being accused of being suicidal.
The sewer looked like the nether parts of a human female. (image 2)
I was transferred to a better hospital after a bit over one week. It was better and I achieved physical comfort. They allowed me to used my phone and charger which which I ordered cyanide pills online.
The doctor there was better and let me out after a few days. The treatment of me was oligatory for anyone who tries to end there life in this country regardless of age, cause and sanity.
It is the pinnacle of this meme (image 1). Nothing they did improved my life. It was horrible and any life I would have had outside decayed further. I did not get to speak to any sane man until I was let out. Many of my possessions were taken from me such as my ceremonoal blade, one of my most priced possessions.
I realised some time after being let out that cyanolabs.com, the site I had used, was a scam; they take your money without even producing what they claim to deliver.
It can be found in the scam directory among similar sites.
I tried to made a death brew out of cherry pits as they contain an adequate amount of cyanide. Only frozen ones can be bought here in this time. I bought a mortar and 750 grams of frozen cherries without reading all the small text on the back of the box; it said that they were de-pitted by machine (which made them into an inedible repulsive soggy mush). Proof(image 3)
I live in such a denegrating first world prison that I'm not even allowed to buy complete cherries.
While I may losen up on revealing doxing information, I will not disclose my country of residence.
I would have walked into the desert in the Ummah if I could and I would have licked a dart frog were I in Brazil; they look too delicious to not get eaten.
I would like to have been of the indosphere as king cobras would not be impossible to find; they have a >99% mortality rate within one hour of no medical treatment.
I looked at a photograph from the indosphere while browsing wikipedia; the forest in indosphere looks like such a beautiful spiritually strengthening place even if my deepest most immovable spiritual loyalty lies in my real home nation.
My parents forced themselves upon me when I regained freedom. I have been unable to dehydrate myself to death as they would notice. My father will visit me tomorrow.
He knows that I failed at my studies now. He is such a boomer in that he trusts the projections of population stabilising and that the future will be bright.
I found it very hard to eat after regaining freedom. I had done everything I had wanted to have done and eaten everything I wanted to eat in my life. I had planned what I ate for some time.
I had used up my copes and found my days to be empty, even after being used to never speaking to people irl.
I had a great survival guilt after not even failing to kms with cyanide; I felt against eating and drinking as I live unjustly and should have died; My survival guilt remained.
My refrigerator is empty and I don't have a credit card. I have mostly eaten fruit and fast food burgers and I have not begain to brush my teeth; I don't even own a tooth brush.
I had planned everything so well and just not expected that the physical block was there. My survival guilt made it not about inceldom or my living standards but about my honor and dignity.
I would have done the whole month of August differently; I made several mistakes including not kms on time. It may have been the most important and most poorly executed month in my life.
The lack of possessions, friends and future that is in my life means that I don't have a new beginning, just a humiliatingly postponed end.
My life is so wrecked that I will not make it to the anniversary. I was ready to die. I survived the wrong day.
My advice is the following:
Don't seek help from the medical establishent; it will do you no good. The less they do to you, the better.
Don't post digital goodbye letters even if you don't disclose your location.
Don't break things like keys, credit cards or machines.
Ignore empty well wishes from "friends" such as virttue signalling female facebook friends who wouln't have sex with you to keep you alive.
Use a good method with deniability and high mortality like cyanide, dart frog or king cobra. I think a fast acting poison is preferrable as you don't lose consousness right away whithout knowing if your method worked while not being painful for longer than a few minutes. Cobra bites and cyanide poisoning are reversible unless it's a late stage.
