fandomsecrets | [ SECRET POST #3429 ]

[ SECRET POST #3429 ]

⌈ Secret Post #3429 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 00 pages, 00 secrets from Secret Submission Post #490.
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how do you find the motivation to keep going when everything in your life is constantly going to shit and all you want to do is die? i know how i'd do it and i know when. i just don't have any fucks to give about continuing to exist.

Life is shit and it gets better. That is it. And you want to be around for when it does.

op.

it doesn't always, though. without going into too many details, i've gotten myself into a position where there's only one way out of it, and i'm trying but i'm not optimistic about it working. and if it blows up in my face, i'm entirely fucked in all ways.

If it doesn't work, you figure out a new way out of the situation. It's cliche but death is a permanent solution to a non-permanent problem.

Being forcibly committed after a failed suicide attempt is no fun. (Understatement of the year).

It's easier to simply lose all hope for anything to ever be good, and simply wait for your lifespan to run out from natural causes.

I call it "A Little Longers." All you need to do, when you're drowning, is find an A Little Longer.

A Little Longers can be big or small. It can be "I need to stay alive a little longer, so I can see the Game of Thrones finale," or "I need to stay a little longer so I can get a milkshake this weekend," or "I need to stay a little longer so I can finally see Deadpool."

They can be so small; they can be really big. But they keep you here, so you can be around when some light gets through all those stressful cracks and fills you up.

Sometimes it takes a different perspective. Sometimes it takes time for something new and better to come along and make your life unshit again.

Sometimes we don't even realize that it's not everything in life that's malfunctioning, but rather it's our own brains conspiring against us in the way that clinical depression is so very good at doing.

...And sometimes life really is that shit, and there isn't much to be done about it except ending it (example: I don't begrudge anyone with a debilitating, incurable terminal illness the wish to die).

However, I find it's usually best to treat the first two options as priorities before deciding on the last one.

At the time, it was that I knew that people I cared about would cry and that still mattered to me. Then things got better. Still have a few moments of 'Oh god, how much longer?' but things got better.

You give enough of a fuck to post about it here. IMO that's a sign you want to be talked out of the decision.

not really. i just didn't have anywhere else to ask. the one friend i have, it's not fair to keep dumping on them and if they knew how close i was to the line, they'd just feel guilty in the end and that's not right.

That's a shitty place to be in, Anon. I've been there; I lost job, home, and mind, all in the space of three months, and knew that getting out of the homelessness cycle was pretty much completely out of my control and would be for the foreseeable future. Also, I believed myself to be the worst child a family could have, and that I didn't deserve the oxygen and food it took to fuel me. I spent over a year living in a crawl space full of rusty nails and rotten fiberglass, aching to die, so I'd like to think you could find my situation comparable to yours.

I'm not sure how I kept going. Spite, maybe--I didn't want to become another dead tranny kid people cry over on TDOR. I wasn't sure how I wanted to die, but I knew it wasn't like this.

Besides, I hadn't finished writing my favorite story series yet. Or gotten published yet. Or hell, read Moby Dick yet. (That last bit is a joke; I never plan on reading Moby Dick. But it was as good a reason as any.)

I mean, my crushing agonizing suffering wasn't GOING anywhere. It's not like I had a deadline (no pun intended). It gave me some comfort to think I could kill myself whenever I wanted, so I might as well do it later. Death is pretty much the ONLY permanent thing there is, so I wanted to exhaust every other avenue first. After all, you said you have a plan--I have one too. My method of demise isn't going to disappear in the next five minutes and I highly doubt yours will either.

Also, by that point I'd been mentally hospitalized for long enough to suspect my brain wasn't being entirely honest with me about how terrible I was. I wasn't sure, in fact I highly doubted my brain was wrong, but hey. My death wasn't going anywhere. Might as well see, right? If I was gonna die, I might as well do it feeling good about myself.

So I read books like "Hello Cruel World" and "How I Stayed Alive When My Brain Was Trying to Kill Me" and I kept sleeping in my shitty crawl space and writing my stupid stories and hating myself and wishing I could die, and eventually things got a little better and I hated myself a little bit less, and well. I'm glad I lived. And I hope one day you are too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ SECRET POST #3429 ]

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