Everybody has to break at some time. I guess this past hour was me.

People always comment, "I wish I could be as happy as you are all the time."

That comment was made twice yesterday.

Well, I'm not.

Everyday I have some notion of suicide again.

Even if it is just a little "I Wonder..."

Guys. I'm not happy.

At least not truly.

I want to cut.

My new project is to find the meaning of life.

Before, I have had these little research sessions where I just stick myself to a certain religion or disease and learn all I can about it, which lasts anywhere from 3 days to a few months. 
That is a coping mechanism of mine, I think. I try to know everything I can about something in order to not be so anxious when it comes to that subject.

This past year however, I did a special study.
I learned all I could on cutting, general self-harm, suicide, how to prevent these things, and why things like this happen, like the psychological and physical facts behind it.
For example, cutting can trigger your body into making the same chemical high you get when you do sports.
That's why it is so addicting, because it does, in fact, make you feel better. Cutters aren't just twisted little fucks. They do feel happier and calmer after cutting.

But you see, I've spent a lot of time dwelling over an aspect of death. 

A lot of people would consider it to be hard, knowing so many people who have been suicidal or committed suicide, then there are just the self-harmers, but in reality, it just changes a person's perspective. 

I know that life can be hard, unbearably so.
I know that people can get to that point where they don't know how to handle everything. So they turn to the least recommended option.
They look at their appearance and try to change that to be happier.
Or they look at themselves, forcing blame and regret onto their own shoulders, guilting themselves into a form of punishment.
And often  the torture they inflict on themselves can involve punishment in the form of changing who they are, how the appear, how they act...
I know that some people just decide to be over with punishing themselves and instead throw themselves off of a building or eat a bullet.
Or they take pills, thinking that they'll drift off into a dream-like state and never again have to face reality.
Sometimes, these are just attempts and they are found and get support they need, which may or may not be the tool they need to keep going.

The thing I know best however is how life can change in an instant. You can go from being a happy little middleschooler to somebody who can't wait for a reason to kill themselves or run away and break apart the barrier that keeps you hidden behind walls.
There are these fences that hold you in, these little cages that society sets up, saying "You're safe inside here", "We all love you in here", or even "Nobody will like you on the outside."
Some people figure out how they can live inside those little boxes, being perfectly content, not the slightest bit curious about what lies on the outside.

Then there are the people who challenge the barbed wire that closes them in. They climb over it, bleeding as they go, not afraid to stain their uniforms, not scared to face the delicious red hues that could envelop them or force them to bleed out.

I'm determined to bleed out, all over the place, so that people are forced to see my stains and all that I have done to create those worldly tarnishes.

So, let me reword my goal.

I don't want to find the meaning of life.

I want to find the meaning I have in life.

I want to find what I can do to change future generations. 

I want to know how I should live my life to where I am perfectly content with it.

I don't officially believe in an afterlife just yet, so I'd like to make the life I have worth living.

My dad has told me these things several times:

Suicide is a result of medication.

Cutting is just for attention.

It's all the government's fault.

Maybe if the teenagers were actually brave, they would find a solution.


Mostly lies.

It is the person, not the pills.
Suicide is not a result of medication. Medication is a result of suicide. You get depressed, whether it is from chemical imbalances or society. Then you cut. You don't tell anybody about it, that part is crucial. Then slowly you wind your way down this little lane and you feel almost as if you are freeing yourself, allowing yourself to live again because you have this thing that gives you just one more thread to hold on to.
Soon, that thread breaks as well.
And you are left with nothing.
You attempt suicide.
You fail.
They prescribe you some medication to either deal with severe anxiety or severe depression.
The pills make you feel as if you are incomplete.
If you could succeed, then you wouldn't need the pills.
You feel the need to gain some form of success, some accomplishment.
So you figure, Hey, I failed before. Let's try harder.
Positive outlook, right?
So you succeed in killing yourself.


I'll cut to be popular.
That's not a statement most people think to themselves before they cut.
They figure cutting is a way to cope.
Sometimes coping does mean seeking attention, but not always.
Cutting isn't just for attention. If you cut, it means that you just need something to hold on to because nothing else is worth it anymore. All of people who cut sometimes wish that people would notice the scratches and scars, just so those people would know how they feel, but that doesn't mean they do it specifically for attention.
Normally there is more than one reason why a person is cutting themselves.
Self-harm isn't popular everywhere. In fact, it is shunned in most places, if you didn't know.

Government is not the problem, reality is.
How?
How is government the problem?
Al around the world we have suicides and cutters.
All around the world, we have different forms of government.
Some people feel oppressed by the authority, so they kill themselves. Some people, feel like they have too many options in life and it's too much pressure, so they find another solution.

Suicide IS the solution.
Some people can't get this through their heads.
Suicide isn't a call for help, neither is cutting. Both are a way to cope with the world that lies around us.
Suicide happens when people feel so ultimately hopeless, so lifeless and empty, that they figure Why am I living?
That's the key. When they kill themselves, they don't feel alive. They feel so dead, as if their corpse is already in the room with them, they just have to dispose of the body.
The 'solution' doesn't involve talking to people who couldn't possibly understand, it involves breaking the one person that does.


Lies don't help. Talking and listening, even when you don't understand, helps.
Listen to the damned, because their whispers may be the last thing you hear from them.

Help. Please.

You want to help? Really? 
Then just be nice.

Don't yell at me for cutting.

Don't tell me that I'm stupid.

Don't tell me it's just a phase.

Because who knows? It might be the last "phase" I go through in life.

Isolation.

It isn't something I mean to attain, it just happens.

Depression and Suicide sites say that  I should talk to somebody about things.

I have. It doesn't work.

I have tried talking to people for months, and it doesn't work.

Either I feel like they don't really care, or else they get mad at me for being so destructive, or they have bigger problems of their own to worry about.

Great.

I always feel so hated.

It always happens.
Hey! The world likes you now! You can try to be happy!

Then something comes along and ruins it.

I had everything planned for next year. What I was going to do, where I was going to go.
And now it's all ruined from one cruel twist of crooked fate.

There's no way I can achieve all that I want to, and the only reason is spawning from a single human being.

I'm hated, and there is nothing that I can do besides stand there and let myself be tarnished.

Warning: You might not want to read this - I'm not sure how dark this'll turn out to be...

So the first time I ever had a hint of suicidal ideation was about three or four months ago. And to think about it wasn't intentional.

 I remember that I was just laying on my futon/bed, waiting for a text from a friend, and I thought, Wouldn't I just be happier if I was dead? After I had the thought, I kind of stopped thinking for a second, then rewound. What? Had I really just though that? I was startled into speechless-ness. Then I thought about it a bit more and realized that it was logical, I could be happier if I was dead. Since then I have had several thoughts similar to that.

Now don't be alarmed! I do not plan on killing myself anytime soon. I believe it would be too selfish, too uncaring. Even though I have a firm belief that it may be only from psychological dependency that people have ever befriended or loved me, they still have done so. By taking my own life they could possibly begin treading in lakes of guilt or thinking they weren't good enough at supporting me and showing me their love. I don't wish that to happen. So, until I possibly screw everyone over or move off to another continent, cutting off all connections to those that I grew up with, I doubt I will kill myself. Not unless if I have a moment of pure demurral - but even then I'd probably call up a close friend and talk to them about what goes on with my life.

Just a note about Suicidal Thoughts, no big deal.