Archive for the 'attempted suicide' Category

11
Nov
08

Suicide

I’m thinking about it myself. I don’t know if Caitlin is alright; I haven’t grown a pair and called her mother yet.

306 by Emilie Autumn

“Three hundred and six
In only six years
If it was an accident
Where are the tears
I am still unidentified
Behind the cathedral
Is where my body hides
But I’m not inside
Just one of sixteen
In only one day
If it was a game
Then why couldn’t I play
I am the abandoner
But still I remain
And my frozen pulse quickens
As the black plot thickens

Like this story I heard
A lifetime ago
Where a girl
(And this is funny)
Took her life
But what she doesn’t know
Is how long it takes
For the water to rise
And the breath to stop fighting
And the cold to close her eyes

Morality plays
On stages of sin
The easy way out
Or the easy way in
I am still overglorified
My reasons to live
Were my reasons to die
But at least they were mine
Now I’ve freedom unbound
Cut the laces of life
The pistol
The poison
The noose
Or the knife
I have chosen my instrument
And said no goodbyes
And my frozen pulse quickens
As the black plot thickens

Like this story I heard
A lifetime ago
Where a girl
(And this is funny)
Took her life
But what she didn’t know
Is how long it takes
For the water to rise
And the breath to stop fighting
And the cold to close her eyes”

10
Nov
08

That’s All She Wrote…

(caitlin) I will be thin says (8:52 PM):
hey
–Missy– says (8:52 PM):
hi
(caitlin) I will be thin says (8:52 PM):
how r u
–Missy– says (8:52 PM):
doing ok. kinda tired though. you?
(caitlin) I will be thin says (8:53 PM):
dieing if i kill myself u wount
–Missy– says (8:54 PM):
what?
(caitlin) I will be thin says (8:54 PM):
im going 2 miss u
–Missy– says (8:56 PM):
I don’t know what to say
(caitlin) I will be thin says (8:56 PM):
i love u i have 2 go
–Missy– says (8:56 PM):
ok, love you too
(caitlin) I will be thin says (8:57 PM):
im sorry but i might not wake up 2morrow

21
Sep
08

Question!

How do you tell your parents that you tried to kill yourself several times? I mean, it almost floored my brother.

04
Aug
08

It Was A LONG Month

Where to start? The head-first dive into depression? Breaking edge? The broken promise? Sleepless nights? The spiders and all the beetles? My stupid, harpy of a stepmother? My bratty little half brother?

The beginning might be a good place. The drive down wasn’t that bad. Took us 3 and a half days.

We (me, dad, and Vern) got to our summer house late afternoon. It wasn’t more than 4 hours later my brothers Andy and Chris show up with Andy’s girlfriend Jen. They talked our ears off. Then Chris stayed the night. Me and Chris stayed up till 4am talking. We talked about our anxiety, my depression, cutting. He made me promise to stop cutting. Fuck him. He promised me he’d talk to dad about my anxiety and depression so dad would get me to a therapist and on medication. Fuck Chris because he never did a damn thing! Fuck Chris cuz he was so drunk he couldn’t remember a fucking thing. Why the fuck should I honour the promise I made to him if he didn’t honour the promises he made to me? There were other promises, but this one burns the most.

I felt like shit most of the month. I got so depressed at times I wanted to die, or something to distract me from my misery. I wanted to cut so bad, but I thought Chris would pull through with his promises so I didn’t. It was this depression that lead me to breaking edge.

I was invited to stay the night over at Chris’s apartment for the night. Yup. This is where I break edge. I was invited because I was miserable at the family reunion earlier that day. My aunt Sherrie thought it’d be a good idea. Sherrie, Chris, Andy, and my cousin Matt all live in the same area (actually Chris and Andy live in the same apartment building and Sherrie and Matt live in the apartment across from Chris and Andy). Plus, my cousin Amanda was visiting Sherrie (her mother) with her two kids. Amanda and Chris picked me up from North Tay, that’s where the summer house is, and then we went to Sherrie and Matt’s apartment. When we got there, Sherrie was already smashed. It was both sad and hilarious at the same time. We (me, Chris, Matt, Amanda and my cousin Andrew) watched her down a wine glass of gin and orange juice. We laughed as her words got so slurred and as she stumbled around. Then, Sherrie tried to tell me that I didn’t have to drink any beer and stuff like that. She was so far gone. After that, She went to the liquor store with Andy to get more booze. It was after she left that Chris offered me a beer and Matt handed it to me. I WAS going to refuse. For some reason, I couldn’t refuse. Maybe it was because I wanted to drink with them. May be it was my tiny crush on Matt that made me take the beer. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any fucking spine and I felt so much pressure. Anyways, it escalated from there. We went outside and drank more. Went to my cousin Kelly’s party. Drank more there. Nearly passed out on some boy’s bed. Disgusting, isn’t it? I’d love to blame this event on someone, but I know I’m the one at fault. I didn’t have to accept the beer. I could have said no. But I didn’t. SInce then I have been switching between self-pity and self-loathing.

I had lots of nights where I couldn’t sleep. A couple of them were energy drink-induced I know. The rest of them, however, I have no clue what cause was.

Stupid harpy bitch, aka my stepmother Mary Anne, was nothing but bitch bitch bitch, whine whine whine, kvetch kvetch kvetch when she arrived several days later.

And my little brother Vern was horrible. I can’t even express how he acted. The effort of finding the right words is folding my brain into an origami swan.

Lastly, the bugs that resided in that house. It’s like oh em gee! Look at all the spiders and beetles! I killed at least 20 bugs in all. Spiders: I hate them. Especially the one I nick-named Indianna Jones before killing it, as it decided swinging across my room was a novel idea. I didn’t actually mind Indy at first because he was pretty ninja. He managed to get across my room without me noticing and I was looking out for him like a hawk. But Then he had to swing over my bed like the real Indy in Raiders of the Lost Arc. It was lights out for him.

11
Jun
08

Life As It Is

Well, school’s out on Friday. I have a two more exams to go. I’ll do okay on my math exam and so-so on my social exam. But still pass both.

Still have that spider problem. Killed a much smaller spider. That other spider got away after I snapped a pic of it and grabbed a fly swatter. Next time I see it though… it’s going to be one flat fucker.

As for my culinary arts practical exam… ACED!!! My dessert was the best bit out of my group’s 3-course meal. I kept being stopped by teachers who kept praising me. Also, smugly I must add, I got quite a few stares from my peers when my culinary teacher, Chef Len Hallowes, shook my hand and congratulated me on my awesome dessert. Chef Hallowes has always criticized our class for a lot of things and praise is actually quite rare. Shocks everyone when he shells out praise.

On a much darker note, I was being hit on by complete strangers this morning. Cat calls and whistles. Made me feel ill. They looked like they were part of my school’s ground maintainance crew from the way they were cruising around the school grounds in a white pickup.

An even darker note. Every once in a while, I look at my fading scars on my arm, the ones from when I tried to slit my wrists last September, and get the urge to replace them with more cuts. I swear, all I want to do is mutilate myself. Mutilate, starve, scar, pierce.

Also, I smother Americans with the Canadian flag. Not. But sometimes I want to. Right now I’m content enough to wave my Canadian flag in Americans’ faces.

19
Sep
07

Today Is The Greatest Day I Have Ever Known

Monday I realized that I am such a mediocre human being that I should drink bleach and a couple other cleaners I know that will undoubtedly kill me. But since I should TRY to redeem myself, I’ll wait till I am no longer babysitting. Who ever heard of a babysitter killing themselves while they are supposed to be keeping an eye on their quarry?

A whiny, rich, upper class emo kid, that’s who. Now before you say “Hey, that sounds an awful lot like you”, I’ll have you know that I’m a worthless, self-esteem-less, middle class emo kid. There’s a difference.

I just wanna ask: why didn’t my family -really- notice this? I mean, come on! These self-inflicted wounds? I never hid them! The only person who noticed was some girl at school.

These scars, these pink ribbon scars, stand out upon my ghastly pale skin. They have served as a reminder of how fucked up I am. Was. Have been.

You’d accept my 666, my damnation, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t judge me if I were bettering the world with my death, with one less lower-than-dirt human being? My belly stings.

What would pesticide taste like? Really? It smells so pretty. Like flowers. Even though the bottle says to wash it off if you get it on your skin, it doesn’t hurt. This is a trigger-spray bottle half full of Raid. The stuff doesn’t sting on wounds, either. It tastes almost like nothing! But it is poison! Tastes like flowers. And soap. Really. I’ve eaten flowers when I was younger. How could this possibly -hurt- me? Sniffing again and tasting again, it actually smells like phisoderm and tastes more like a poison should. Yeah this -is- gonna hurt me.

Here I am, going off the deep end. You get front row tickets to a pre-taped show! It’s now 2:10am. I planned on doing this 2 hours ago. No such luck. The ‘rents were still awake. I have to do this now so I -am- dead when they get up and I don’t wake up in a hospital. My tongue is going numb. As I type this, I can’t help but think of the spider I killed in August with Raid. I think of how it tried to skitter away. Would it kill me like that, too? Will I be in pain? Fucking stuff is not nice to swallow. My heart races. It -is- Raid.




Mah Stalkin’ Device

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