[StillIntending]

Possible trigger:

This is too much. This is too much. I can't handle this. By all rights I should be able to but because I am weak I can't. I am a failure. I am worthless. I am a despicable human being and I have no idea why the two people who have seen this side of me still love me but it is probably to their detriment that they do because I am the embodiment of negativity and can only be a negative in anyone's life. I certainly am a negative to my life. In fact, now, with these new things happening, I may just kill myself over this. I may also cut. I never have cut, you see. But this week I did pick up a relatively sharp object and used to break a few layers of skin on a tiny portion of my hand. It did scab over a bit. I did that today again, but a bit deeper. My idea is to keep doing it, doing more every time, until it break myself of my inability to cause myself pain.
The problems that I'm facing now are all temporary, and I know that. But they will be extremely painful to live through. And I don't see much point in bothering to live through them at all.
I probably won't kill myself. I certainly won't tonight. But I don't know anymore. Until last week whenever I talked of suicide I could say with certainty that though I spoke of it, I knew I'd never go through with it. I don't know anymore. Maybe I am capable of going through with it after all. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
I hate myself. I hate myself with a burning passion.
I needed to feel like I said this out loud. I'm sorry. Neither of those people who know this side of me are available right now.

[mazing]

I know that things feel like they will never improve now but they can and will - you are right, this is only temporary. You can get through this. You are not a failure. You are not worthless.

Is there anyone else you can call right now? A friend? GP? A local hotline? Sometimes just being able to talk it out can help make it a bit easier to handle. If not, even just finding somewhere isolated and crying / screaming / talking it out or writing it all down and destroying the paper. Sometimes it can help just to get it out so you don't have to hold it all inside.

Also, is there anything you can do that you enjoy or find semi-relaxing to try and help? Reading, go for a walk/run, watch a movie, take a bath?

Take it one moment at a time if you need to. I know that it's painful and hard, especially thinking that things will take a long time to get better but it is possible. And I promise you that it is worth it in the end.

I would also encourage you if you haven't already to consider professional support. It might be able to help you have another outlet if the people who know what is happening are not available and may also be able to help with other coping strategies that don't involve harming yourself.

[unaluna]

Dude we're here.

[StillIntending]

Thank you. This is the worst my depression has ever gotten to date. These have possibly been the worst days of my life so far. I don't know how many other days there will be, come to think of it.

Possible trigger:

Until extremely recently I had suicidal thoughts without any intention of ever going through with them. I didn't even think I was capable of it. That's where my username comes from—no longer desiring life, but still intending to live it. (Another way I interpret the CS Lewis quote from my signature.) But as of last Sunday I think I'm probably actually suicidal. I don't know. I don't know. I know that I failed in my responsibilities and the things that I have been brought up and equipped to do. Things I should have been able to do. I couldn't do them. I failed. All this year I've scrambled and fought to make it through, but now, now I have at long last simply failed. There is no salvaging this. My best friend is trying to help me in every way he can. Is telling me to come clean to my parents. Neither of us think they will respond well. Our hope is that after they worsen my situation, my reaction will be strong enough to convince them that I need genuine help. We have no idea how severe they will get with me before that happens, or if that will ever happen at all. I drew blood on myself for the first time just now. It wasn't very much. It was an extremely small cut, and not at all deep. But. I don't know. I feel like some part of me is already dead and the rest of me is dying. Assuming I make it out of this, will I even still be me? Will depression have changed me so much that I'm no longer even really the same person? I am terrified. Possibly more of life than of death.