It's Nikki.
I know you've been suicidal for most of your life, so you've probably at least heard of Sanctioned Suicide. I figured there's at least a small sliver of a chance that you could be on here reading this.
I wish we didn't have to die. I love you, which you already know.
I came here the day after we last talked. I've posted on here about my attempts. On June 24th, the day after we last talked, I tried to jump off of the courthouse in, but I couldn't do it. I sent you some audio on Facebook when I was up there. I just wanted my last words to be "I love you, I'm sorry." Because I knew that killing myself would scar you for life, and I really really don't want that. I just don't know what else there is to do. I don't know who I am anymore. The life I had is gone and there's nothing to replace it.
On July 23rd, I tried to call you again, and I saw you blocked my work phone. I tried to kill myself again by fentanyl overdose that night, as well as the night after. I wrote you a suicide note, too. But obviously, I failed.
I had such a hard night yesterday that I tried to buy fentanyl again. But the dealer said he was all out for right now. I don't know if I'll ever get the courage to actually do it, but maybe. Hopefully? I don't know.
Obviously, killing myself is going to hurt a lot of people. Especially you. I don't want to be selfish. I just don't know what to fucking do.
When I was up on the terrace during my first attempt, I remember there was ONE thought that got me to actually want to live. It was the idea that maybe, like a year from now, I would be able to safely tell you what happened, and you'd hug me and tell me you were proud of me for not dying. Back in June 23rd, when I still thought there was a chance we could be friends, that didn't sound like the craziest idea. But after July 23rd, when I realized you were cutting off our last means of contact, I realized that that was just a fucking fantasy.
You already know that I'll love you forever. I already told you all of that stuff. I don't know what to do. I probably won't be teetering on the edge and posting here forever. I really hope I can just go to sleep soon and never have to wake up. I love you. I'm sorry.
If you are on here and reading this, maybe it means that I can help you instead of just making your life worse?
If you are on here and reading this, maybe it means that I can help you instead of just making your life worse?
I know you've been suicidal for most of your life, so you've probably at least heard of Sanctioned Suicide. I figured there's at least a small sliver of a chance that you could be on here reading this.
I wish we didn't have to die. I love you, which you already know.
I came here the day after we last talked. I've posted on here about my attempts. On June 24th, the day after we last talked, I tried to jump off of the courthouse in, but I couldn't do it. I sent you some audio on Facebook when I was up there. I just wanted my last words to be "I love you, I'm sorry." Because I knew that killing myself would scar you for life, and I really really don't want that. I just don't know what else there is to do. I don't know who I am anymore. The life I had is gone and there's nothing to replace it.
On July 23rd, I tried to call you again, and I saw you blocked my work phone. I tried to kill myself again by fentanyl overdose that night, as well as the night after. I wrote you a suicide note, too. But obviously, I failed.
I had such a hard night yesterday that I tried to buy fentanyl again. But the dealer said he was all out for right now. I don't know if I'll ever get the courage to actually do it, but maybe. Hopefully? I don't know.
Obviously, killing myself is going to hurt a lot of people. Especially you. I don't want to be selfish. I just don't know what to fucking do.
When I was up on the terrace during my first attempt, I remember there was ONE thought that got me to actually want to live. It was the idea that maybe, like a year from now, I would be able to safely tell you what happened, and you'd hug me and tell me you were proud of me for not dying. Back in June 23rd, when I still thought there was a chance we could be friends, that didn't sound like the craziest idea. But after July 23rd, when I realized you were cutting off our last means of contact, I realized that that was just a fucking fantasy.
You already know that I'll love you forever. I already told you all of that stuff. I don't know what to do. I probably won't be teetering on the edge and posting here forever. I really hope I can just go to sleep soon and never have to wake up. I love you. I'm sorry.
If you are on here and reading this, maybe it means that I can help you instead of just making your life worse?
If you are on here and reading this, maybe it means that I can help you instead of just making your life worse?
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