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It's Over Failed My Third Suicide Attempt

probably not :feelsbadman:
Over for me :cryfeels:
I can see why you'd think that, but here's the way I see it. You spoke the ugly truth at the time you most wanted it to be false. I think it akin to the following scenario. Suppose you tell your therapist that nobody cares about you and your therapist replies "That's not true. I care about you, for one." Telling them "No you don't." in response counts as based in my book. That's in essence what you did, at least from my perspective.
Thanks brocel. I never thought it that way, and makes me happy the way you look at what I said.
Asking to see the rescue worker again, on the other hand, was a wee bit cucked, altho it was perfectly understandable and excusable in your position I would say.
Yes, that was cucked, no question. But as you said, in that moment I felt extremely emotional and so horribly lonely and just wanted to talk to someone, anyone.
I don't think you're to blame for being a failure. The fact you and other brocels think you are really tugs at my heartstrings. I actually got emotional and cried a little at the thought that someone would blame himself to the point of flagellation.
Damn brocel... You're gonna make me cry too. :cryfeels:
Who do you think is to blame then, if anyone, or anything?
 
Also, I want to thank every brocel for their support messages. It is not just the replies I have received here, but also a lot of PMs in which you guys wanted to show me your support and told me that you are glad I'm still alive. I never expected such reaction as I was writing this thread.
This place is my home now, and you guys are like family. Love you. (#NoHomo)
 
Damn that’s fucking brutal Man. Do you have any family around?
 
I have attempted suicide once again, for the third time, and being the miserable failure I am, I failed once again. I really believed that third time would be the charm and I would be able to do it. But I was unlucky... I don't remember much, but according to my discharge letter from the intensive care, a foid found me lying down unconscious on the train rails, and she pulled me away and called the police and the ambulance. Although I was not entirely conscious, I still barely remember what happened inside the ambulance because of the foid rescue worker who repeatedly slapped my face and told me not to close my eyes and talk to her. I remember telling her "you're way out of my league, why do you want to talk to me?". I don’t remember how she answered. Aside from that, I remember her telling me her name. I don't remember what happened after that and I woke up in the intensive care the next day. As I gained consciousness, I realized that I was tied to my bed, and asked the nurse why they tied me. She told me that when they first brought me and left me alone in my room, I tore my intravenous infusion off, which caused my blood to spill everywhere, then I got up, started walking down the corridor and as they saw me and grabbed me to bring back me to my bed, I shouted and said that "I want to die", and "please let me go so I can jump from the window". I didn't remember doing any of that at all and I was shocked to learn that I had the strength to actually get up because the only thing I remember is just dreams. Then, I asked the nurse about the rescue worker from the ambulance whose name I still remembered, and I asked if I can talk to her, and she said that she will bring another patient soon, and then I can talk to her if she has the time. Sure enough, she came soon after and when she brought the patient and was about to leave the intensive care, I called out to her since I remembered her name. She came to me with a smile and told me she was glad that I survived. Then as we talked, she remembered that I said she was out of my league, and told me "no one is out of your league, there are no leagues". Of course, I didn't care about that nor did I believe her, but the fact that she tried to make me feel good brought a genuine smile to my face. Since I live all alone and no one says to me stuff like that, I felt a bittersweet smile covering my face. I also wanted to tell her "spare me your fake pleasantries", but those words just didn't came to me. I smiled and thanked her, and before she left, she held my hand for a few seconds as she smiled back. It was the first time I held the hand of a woman. I guess I'm not a KHHV anymore but rather a KHV. After that it was nothing interesting. Just silence, more infusion, and more medications. I had to stay there for a few days and it was so depressing.

Then, after I left the intensive care, I had to stay in a psychiatric hospital since this was my third suicide attempt, and I had to stay for a fairly long time, too. In the end, I just put my happy mask on and pretended to smile and talk to other patients and workers, so that I could leave. It was not my first stay in a psychiatric facility, so I had already realized what the doctors expect from patients before they agree to release them, so I did everything they expected from me by pretending and using a fake, happy persona. I then left and came home again. And as soon as I entered my room, the silence was deafening, and I regretted that I left the psychiatric facility, because there are at least people who work there and doctors with whom you can talk anytime. I felt like a failure once again and thought to myself I want to go back, but I was afraid I would look like an idiot. Instead, I took my cell phone because it has been a long time since I have used it, but of course, nobody had called nor sent a message, since there isn't anyone who would care... But to my dismay, I saw instead that it was I who have contacted someone when I was in the intensive care and was half conscious... I actually contacted 2 people. One was my psychotherapist and the other was another doctor whose specialization I will not reveal since it is in a very specific medical area. They are both foids. I have told them things which apparently made them uncomfortable. I don't remember sending those messages, so I called them both and tried to explain. I apologized like the failure I am and told them I don't remember sending those messages. I said I was all alone and they are the only people with whom I could talk, and that's probably why I contacted them. They didn't believe me, but they weren't necessarily mean about it. I noticed that they didn't believe me, so I told them that I can send them my discharge letter from the hospital that proves that I was half conscious and not completely conscious. They weren't interested, and both of them told me not to contact them again, and that I had to find other psychotherapists and doctors. I apologized once again and told them even if they won't accept me as a patient anymore, I really wished they believed me at least, so, I offered and insisted to send my report from the intensive care once again, so at least they know that I didn't want to bother them, but they weren't interested. They told me not to contact them again and hung up. I continued talking to my phone as if they would hear me. I said: "I can not even have a psychotherapist or a doctor in my life, let alone having friends. What kind of a loser gets rejected being treated by medical professionals?".

But I don't care anymore. I have no strength left in me. I started self harm since I have returned home. My limbs are full of wounds and cuts. It hurts like hell, but I deserve it, so I will probably continue doing it. My knife is covered in blood, and I sleep with it next to me. It gives me a mixed feeling. On the one hand, I live alone, which means that I don't need to hide my knife and I just leave it there next to my bed. On the other, I wish someone who cares was here and they would see what I'm doing and would take my knife away and tell me that I don't deserve such pain. Of course, nobody will ever do nor say that.

The weather is hot these days, so I can not wear long sleeves, and people immediately recognize my wounds outside, and they look like I'm a crazy person. I feel more like a failure as time flows.

And all of this just because I was born as an ugly man.

That’s why nobody cares.

That’s why my psychotherapist and my doctor thought I was being an autistic, creepy weirdo.

That’s why I have to hurt myself.

That’s why I am all alone.

That’s why I just want to put a gun to my head.

That’s why I want to pull the trigger and be dead.

That’s why, in the end, I will die alone.

Just because I’m an ugly man.

Somebody, please kill me.

Please..
Move to Ukraine and get shelled by either side

It pains me to read about you harming yourself. I can't improve your life to the point that you wouldn't want to kill yourself. So I'm not going to tell you to live like some self-absorbed Normie's. I just recommend that you stop cutting. Go do something dangerous instead. Deep seafishing, diving, motorcycles, cutting trees, etc. Get a dangerous job and commit suicide by job.
 
Also, I want to thank every brocel for their support messages. It is not just the replies I have received here, but also a lot of PMs in which you guys wanted to show me your support and told me that you are glad I'm still alive. I never expected such reaction as I was writing this thread.
This place is my home now, and you guys are like family. Love you. (#NoHomo)
I wish I was powerful enough to set up a Marxist Rodgerist state and give you the virgin wife you deserve. I'm sorry I'm not powerful enough to help you out.
 
Thanks brocel.

Thanks brocel. You're right, I'm an emotional trainwreck of a loser. Next time I will succeed for sure.
stop being a faggot. literally snap out of it. you are probably raised by a single mother. stop being a fucking foid tranny mentally. just stop.
 
Suicide is never an answer
 
Jfl you sound like a foid
 
Who do you think is to blame then, if anyone, or anything?
Oh boy, I have a lot to say about that. I'll try to keep it short, however.
  • Preliminarily, I want to talk about the word blame. Blaming someone for something can essentially mean one of two things. Either you condemn the thing that person did or you condemn the person for the thing they did. Going forward, I'll use blame in the latter sense, opting instead to use condemn for the former sense.
  • First off, I don't believe in free will. Long story short, I think the concept of free will is inherently oxymoronic. Regardless, without free will, the entire concept of blame becomes senseless. At least, toward people.
  • So "who" is to blame then? Life. Or God, if you're so inclined. More precisely, the inequality inherent in life. Inequality necessarily means that, for each facet of life, some people are bound to draw the short end of the stick. And, as is plain to see, some people are far more unlucky in this regard than others.
  • All of this ain't to say I don't condemn. Normies have a lot to answer for in that sense. Hypergamy is a good example of behavior I condemn. I get that foids are biologically hardwired that way, but civilization demands we forsake some of biological urges. Rape has been outlawed, so why not hypergamy?
 
Jfl you sound like a foid
Fuck you you fucking dumbfuck. I have just survived a brutal suicide attempt and I have no fucking family or friends and going through all this alone and all those emotions have built up inside me and this place is the only place that I can share them. So fucking what if I'm going through an emotional phase. Just because I'm sharing it and not holding it inside anymore doesn't make me a fucking foid. If you don't have anything meaningful to say, then kindly get the fuck out of my thread.

You're probably a 15 year old irresponsible weak dumbass teenager who gets help from his parents whenever he is in trouble. Do not fucking comment on stuff that is way out of your league.
 
Oh boy, I have a lot to say about that. I'll try to keep it short, however.
  • Preliminarily, I want to talk about the word blame. Blaming someone for something can essentially mean one of two things. Either you condemn the thing that person did or you condemn the person for the thing they did. Going forward, I'll use blame in the latter sense, opting instead to use condemn for the former sense.
  • First off, I don't believe in free will. Long story short, I think the concept of free will is inherently oxymoronic. Regardless, without free will, the entire concept of blame becomes senseless. At least, toward people.
  • So "who" is to blame then? Life. Or God, if you're so inclined. More precisely, the inequality inherent in life. Inequality necessarily means that, for each facet of life, some people are bound to draw the short end of the stick. And, as is plain to see, some people are far more unlucky in this regard than others.
  • All of this ain't to say I don't condemn. Normies have a lot to answer for in that sense. Hypergamy is a good example of behavior I condemn. I get that foids are biologically hardwired that way, but civilization demands we forsake some of biological urges. Rape has been outlawed, so why not hypergamy?
I see your viewpoint. If you don't believe in free will, then of course, your point of view makes sense that you think I am not the one to blame.
I wish I could think like that, but since I am a believer of the concept of free will, most of your viewpoints I unfortunately can not share. But I gotta admit, it is very tempting to blame it all on God. Maybe we can discuss this. You can PM me when you have time if you want.
 
I wish I was powerful enough to set up a Marxist Rodgerist state and give you the virgin wife you deserve. I'm sorry I'm not powerful enough to help you out.
I believe you brocel. It's the thought that counts, so I still appreciate you.
 
Also, I want to thank every brocel for their support messages. It is not just the replies I have received here, but also a lot of PMs in which you guys wanted to show me your support and told me that you are glad I'm still alive. I never expected such reaction as I was writing this thread.
This place is my home now, and you guys are like family. Love you. (#NoHomo)
1679487115774
 
ive always wanted to kill someone. wish i could meet up with a brocel irl and keep shooting him to kill him as quickly as possible (in Roblox).

id even pay for 10 oz steak as a last meal (in Roblox using Robux)
 
stop being a faggot. literally snap out of it. you are probably raised by a single mother. stop being a fucking foid tranny mentally. just stop.
This is not the pep talk that I need.
Giving up after your life has fallen apart so many times is not being a faggot or a foid or a tranny.
Also you're wrong, I wasn't raised by a single mother. I had a bastard of a father who beat me every day and he was an alcoholic piece of shit on whose grave I spit to this day. But I guess since he was not around much, one can say that I was technically raised by a single mother.
Your point?
 
But I guess since he was not around much, one can say that I was technically raised by a single mother.
Your point?
Point being you have a female mind, usually from being raised primarly from a women
 
Point being you have a female mind, usually from being raised primarly from a women
I see your point now. You're not wrong about that. The way I was raised obviously had an affect on me, but I always like to think that I got over that way of thinking when I became an independent adult. I also do not think being suicidal should be linked to thinking like a foid. It's not that simple. There are just a lot of factors in play, it's not just emotions.
 
I have attempted suicide once again, for the third time, and being the miserable failure I am, I failed once again. I really believed that third time would be the charm and I would be able to do it. But I was unlucky... I don't remember much, but according to my discharge letter from the intensive care, a foid found me lying down unconscious on the train rails, and she pulled me away and called the police and the ambulance. Although I was not entirely conscious, I still barely remember what happened inside the ambulance because of the foid rescue worker who repeatedly slapped my face and told me not to close my eyes and talk to her. I remember telling her "you're way out of my league, why do you want to talk to me?". I don’t remember how she answered. Aside from that, I remember her telling me her name. I don't remember what happened after that and I woke up in the intensive care the next day. As I gained consciousness, I realized that I was tied to my bed, and asked the nurse why they tied me. She told me that when they first brought me and left me alone in my room, I tore my intravenous infusion off, which caused my blood to spill everywhere, then I got up, started walking down the corridor and as they saw me and grabbed me to bring back me to my bed, I shouted and said that "I want to die", and "please let me go so I can jump from the window". I didn't remember doing any of that at all and I was shocked to learn that I had the strength to actually get up because the only thing I remember is just dreams. Then, I asked the nurse about the rescue worker from the ambulance whose name I still remembered, and I asked if I can talk to her, and she said that she will bring another patient soon, and then I can talk to her if she has the time. Sure enough, she came soon after and when she brought the patient and was about to leave the intensive care, I called out to her since I remembered her name. She came to me with a smile and told me she was glad that I survived. Then as we talked, she remembered that I said she was out of my league, and told me "no one is out of your league, there are no leagues". Of course, I didn't care about that nor did I believe her, but the fact that she tried to make me feel good brought a genuine smile to my face. Since I live all alone and no one says to me stuff like that, I felt a bittersweet smile covering my face. I also wanted to tell her "spare me your fake pleasantries", but those words just didn't came to me. I smiled and thanked her, and before she left, she held my hand for a few seconds as she smiled back. It was the first time I held the hand of a woman. I guess I'm not a KHHV anymore but rather a KHV. After that it was nothing interesting. Just silence, more infusion, and more medications. I had to stay there for a few days and it was so depressing.

Then, after I left the intensive care, I had to stay in a psychiatric hospital since this was my third suicide attempt, and I had to stay for a fairly long time, too. In the end, I just put my happy mask on and pretended to smile and talk to other patients and workers, so that I could leave. It was not my first stay in a psychiatric facility, so I had already realized what the doctors expect from patients before they agree to release them, so I did everything they expected from me by pretending and using a fake, happy persona. I then left and came home again. And as soon as I entered my room, the silence was deafening, and I regretted that I left the psychiatric facility, because there are at least people who work there and doctors with whom you can talk anytime. I felt like a failure once again and thought to myself I want to go back, but I was afraid I would look like an idiot. Instead, I took my cell phone because it has been a long time since I have used it, but of course, nobody had called nor sent a message, since there isn't anyone who would care... But to my dismay, I saw instead that it was I who have contacted someone when I was in the intensive care and was half conscious... I actually contacted 2 people. One was my psychotherapist and the other was another doctor whose specialization I will not reveal since it is in a very specific medical area. They are both foids. I have told them things which apparently made them uncomfortable. I don't remember sending those messages, so I called them both and tried to explain. I apologized like the failure I am and told them I don't remember sending those messages. I said I was all alone and they are the only people with whom I could talk, and that's probably why I contacted them. They didn't believe me, but they weren't necessarily mean about it. I noticed that they didn't believe me, so I told them that I can send them my discharge letter from the hospital that proves that I was half conscious and not completely conscious. They weren't interested, and both of them told me not to contact them again, and that I had to find other psychotherapists and doctors. I apologized once again and told them even if they won't accept me as a patient anymore, I really wished they believed me at least, so, I offered and insisted to send my report from the intensive care once again, so at least they know that I didn't want to bother them, but they weren't interested. They told me not to contact them again and hung up. I continued talking to my phone as if they would hear me. I said: "I can not even have a psychotherapist or a doctor in my life, let alone having friends. What kind of a loser gets rejected being treated by medical professionals?".

But I don't care anymore. I have no strength left in me. I started self harm since I have returned home. My limbs are full of wounds and cuts. It hurts like hell, but I deserve it, so I will probably continue doing it. My knife is covered in blood, and I sleep with it next to me. It gives me a mixed feeling. On the one hand, I live alone, which means that I don't need to hide my knife and I just leave it there next to my bed. On the other, I wish someone who cares was here and they would see what I'm doing and would take my knife away and tell me that I don't deserve such pain. Of course, nobody will ever do nor say that.

The weather is hot these days, so I can not wear long sleeves, and people immediately recognize my wounds outside, and they look like I'm a crazy person. I feel more like a failure as time flows.

And all of this just because I was born as an ugly man.

That’s why nobody cares.

That’s why my psychotherapist and my doctor thought I was being an autistic, creepy weirdo.

That’s why I have to hurt myself.

That’s why I am all alone.

That’s why I just want to put a gun to my head.

That’s why I want to pull the trigger and be dead.

That’s why, in the end, I will die alone.

Just because I’m an ugly man.

Somebody, please kill me.

Please...
Larping graycel kek. But if it isn't larp hope the 4th time is the charm
 
Fuck yea I sympathize with your suicidal attempts. It’s so hard living as a truecel with no family and struggling in life you live under maximum difficulty mode. I don’t want to be like a faggot Normie and give you a shitty false sense of hope but I will say if you failed 3 suicidal attempts it’s probably due to something. Maybe you yourself just truly aren’t ready to let go.
 
I wish I could think like that, but since I am a believer of the concept of free will, most of your viewpoints I unfortunately can not share.
Yeah, that's fair.
But I gotta admit, it is very tempting to blame it all on God.
It has its downsides, actually. But you not carrying the blame for your own failures is certainly an upside.
Maybe we can discuss this. You can PM me when you have time if you want.
I would love to. That said, I was also gonna make a thread about this four months ago, and that still hasn't happened, so yeah... I tried, but I had a hard time putting my view into words eloquently. Regardless, I'll be busy with work until early April, so don't expect anything before then, but maybe your invitation will be the impetus I need to pick up the pieces again. I'll see.
 
Fuck yea I sympathize with your suicidal attempts. It’s so hard living as a truecel with no family and struggling in life you live under maximum difficulty mode. I don’t want to be like a faggot Normie and give you a shitty false sense of hope but I will say if you failed 3 suicidal attempts it’s probably due to something. Maybe you yourself just truly aren’t ready to let go.
Thanks brocel. I appreciate it.
 
I would love to. That said, I was also gonna make a thread about this four months ago, and that still hasn't happened, so yeah... I tried, but I had a hard time putting my view into words eloquently. Regardless, I'll be busy with work until early April, so don't expect anything before then, but maybe your invitation will be the impetus I need to pick up the pieces again. I'll see.
Sure, whenever you feel like it is fine by me. You can also tag me when/if you make the thread.
 
I also wanted to tell her "spare me your fake pleasantries", but those words just didn't came to me. I smiled and thanked her, and before she left, she held my hand for a few seconds as she smiled back. It was the first time I held the hand of a woman. I guess I'm not a KHHV anymore but rather a KHV. After that it was nothing interesting
Ascension by suicide method? New incel meta dropped? If you keep doing this those acronyms might just keep dropping one by one. Kek.

All jokes aside, good luck with your future endeavors brocel.
 
Ascension by suicide method? New incel meta dropped? If you keep doing this those acronyms might just keep dropping one by one. Kek.
:bigbrain:

Unfortunately the remaining acronyms are a bit more... sophisticated. :feelsrope:
Maybe the other H is also possible to drop but I don't see how K and V can be dropped considering we are not normies.
All jokes aside, good luck with your future endeavors brocel.
You too, brocel. Appreciated.
 
Those doctors sound like typical cunts that have no understanding for guys like us. The way we’re treated for existing isn’t a reflection of your character.
 
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Those doctors sound like typical cunts that have no understanding for guys like us.
It really broke my heart brocel. Especially with my psychotherapist who knew every single shit about my life and I really thought she understood me. But it was also an experience that cause an epiphany and made me ultimately realize that foids will never understand people like us, even if they are literally profesionally trained to do so. We are just creepy weirdos in their eyes.
The way we’re treated for existing isn’t a reflection of your character.
Thanks brocel. I appreciate what you said here. :cryfeels:
 
I have attempted suicide once again, for the third time, and being the miserable failure I am, I failed once again. I really believed that third time would be the charm and I would be able to do it. But I was unlucky... I don't remember much, but according to my discharge letter from the intensive care, a foid found me lying down unconscious on the train rails, and she pulled me away and called the police and the ambulance. Although I was not entirely conscious, I still barely remember what happened inside the ambulance because of the foid rescue worker who repeatedly slapped my face and told me not to close my eyes and talk to her. I remember telling her "you're way out of my league, why do you want to talk to me?". I don’t remember how she answered. Aside from that, I remember her telling me her name. I don't remember what happened after that and I woke up in the intensive care the next day. As I gained consciousness, I realized that I was tied to my bed, and asked the nurse why they tied me. She told me that when they first brought me and left me alone in my room, I tore my intravenous infusion off, which caused my blood to spill everywhere, then I got up, started walking down the corridor and as they saw me and grabbed me to bring back me to my bed, I shouted and said that "I want to die", and "please let me go so I can jump from the window". I didn't remember doing any of that at all and I was shocked to learn that I had the strength to actually get up because the only thing I remember is just dreams. Then, I asked the nurse about the rescue worker from the ambulance whose name I still remembered, and I asked if I can talk to her, and she said that she will bring another patient soon, and then I can talk to her if she has the time. Sure enough, she came soon after and when she brought the patient and was about to leave the intensive care, I called out to her since I remembered her name. She came to me with a smile and told me she was glad that I survived. Then as we talked, she remembered that I said she was out of my league, and told me "no one is out of your league, there are no leagues". Of course, I didn't care about that nor did I believe her, but the fact that she tried to make me feel good brought a genuine smile to my face. Since I live all alone and no one says to me stuff like that, I felt a bittersweet smile covering my face. I also wanted to tell her "spare me your fake pleasantries", but those words just didn't came to me. I smiled and thanked her, and before she left, she held my hand for a few seconds as she smiled back. It was the first time I held the hand of a woman. I guess I'm not a KHHV anymore but rather a KHV. After that it was nothing interesting. Just silence, more infusion, and more medications. I had to stay there for a few days and it was so depressing.

Then, after I left the intensive care, I had to stay in a psychiatric hospital since this was my third suicide attempt, and I had to stay for a fairly long time, too. In the end, I just put my happy mask on and pretended to smile and talk to other patients and workers, so that I could leave. It was not my first stay in a psychiatric facility, so I had already realized what the doctors expect from patients before they agree to release them, so I did everything they expected from me by pretending and using a fake, happy persona. I then left and came home again. And as soon as I entered my room, the silence was deafening, and I regretted that I left the psychiatric facility, because there are at least people who work there and doctors with whom you can talk anytime. I felt like a failure once again and thought to myself I want to go back, but I was afraid I would look like an idiot. Instead, I took my cell phone because it has been a long time since I have used it, but of course, nobody had called nor sent a message, since there isn't anyone who would care... But to my dismay, I saw instead that it was I who have contacted someone when I was in the intensive care and was half conscious... I actually contacted 2 people. One was my psychotherapist and the other was another doctor whose specialization I will not reveal since it is in a very specific medical area. They are both foids. I have told them things which apparently made them uncomfortable. I don't remember sending those messages, so I called them both and tried to explain. I apologized like the failure I am and told them I don't remember sending those messages. I said I was all alone and they are the only people with whom I could talk, and that's probably why I contacted them. They didn't believe me, but they weren't necessarily mean about it. I noticed that they didn't believe me, so I told them that I can send them my discharge letter from the hospital that proves that I was half conscious and not completely conscious. They weren't interested, and both of them told me not to contact them again, and that I had to find other psychotherapists and doctors. I apologized once again and told them even if they won't accept me as a patient anymore, I really wished they believed me at least, so, I offered and insisted to send my report from the intensive care once again, so at least they know that I didn't want to bother them, but they weren't interested. They told me not to contact them again and hung up. I continued talking to my phone as if they would hear me. I said: "I can not even have a psychotherapist or a doctor in my life, let alone having friends. What kind of a loser gets rejected being treated by medical professionals?".

But I don't care anymore. I have no strength left in me. I started self harm since I have returned home. My limbs are full of wounds and cuts. It hurts like hell, but I deserve it, so I will probably continue doing it. My knife is covered in blood, and I sleep with it next to me. It gives me a mixed feeling. On the one hand, I live alone, which means that I don't need to hide my knife and I just leave it there next to my bed. On the other, I wish someone who cares was here and they would see what I'm doing and would take my knife away and tell me that I don't deserve such pain. Of course, nobody will ever do nor say that.

The weather is hot these days, so I can not wear long sleeves, and people immediately recognize my wounds outside, and they look like I'm a crazy person. I feel more like a failure as time flows.

And all of this just because I was born as an ugly man.

That’s why nobody cares.

That’s why my psychotherapist and my doctor thought I was being an autistic, creepy weirdo.

That’s why I have to hurt myself.

That’s why I am all alone.

That’s why I just want to put a gun to my head.

That’s why I want to pull the trigger and be dead.

That’s why, in the end, I will die alone.

Just because I’m an ugly man.

Somebody, please kill me.

Please...
Bro.. Your story has hit me hard, I couldn't help but cry with sobs feeling identified with all your suffering, reading your final sentences above all broke me, this world is brutal and leaves no space for us, I have tried to commit suicide once With a failed attempt, try to find something to distract yourself or what do I know you could do with pets, in my case my cat is one of the few things that keeps me alive. :feelscry:
 
Very relatable story, except for the suicide part. Thank god for the girl getting you off the tracks. Why was this user banned?
 
Very relatable story, except for the suicide part. Thank god for the girl getting you off the tracks. Why was this user banned?
Self ban and being a little cuck about some users said that wish they'd cum in his dead sister
 

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