dissociatedmess
Member
- Apr 30, 2022
- 17
I've dealt with suicidal ideation since I was around eleven. I know I knew about suicide way too young. When I was around six I was convinced my dolls were going to jump off the ledge of my armoire because they couldn't stand to be around me one more second. They'd have to kill themselves to get away from me.
I don't know how I haven't just gotten the guts to do it yet. I know it's the right thing to do. I know it's what my father would want. I know my mom would love being flocked by the family to support her through the grief. My sister would just say, "Finally" and roll her eyes. My brother probably wouldn't think about it to be honest.
Now I'm older, I have a fiance, but I feel dead inside. We're semi-long distance, I see him around every 2-3 weeks, but we're separated by a border and I have citizenship paperwork in process. The more days go by without an answer the deader I feel.
My body can't take any more.
But I can't even kill myself.
There are voices that constantly mock me and yell at me and tell me to die, saying to just do it already.
There are voices that keep pulling me back and telling me no and trying to live.
And I feel trapped between them.
I feel possessed throughout the days, just doing things and saying things and watching as it feels like someone else drives my body. I keep screaming from the inside to make it stop. I just want to stay home. I just want to be in bed. I want to stop eating. I want to wither away. I can't.
I have DID. Only my fiance and one of my college profs knows. I was doing research on it, and honestly that made everything worse. I'm sick of how much I've had to read about how "rare" it is and how "controversial" it is. I'm sick of reading about how the fucking curse I live with every day "isn't even real." It's real, and it's awful, and it's not like the movies.
70% of people with DID attempt suicide. My only other friend who had it committed suicide in 2020. But here I am, after several attempts, unable to just do the right thing and end it.
I'm just in limbo. Paperwork not moving. Stuck in the smallest studio apt with no room to breathe. Homework piled up. Broken car and can't afford repairs. No family to turn to. Friends who are so caught up in their own drama they space out when I vent, or cut me off to tend to something else. My surroundings always feel surreal.
I'm sorry to post this. I just need to say it all somewhere, anywhere.
I also just feel so guilty that I'm engaged and I still feel this way. I can't die and leave him with the mess. I can't traumatize him that way. He knows I deal with suicidal ideation and it hurts him but he's still been here for almost five years.
I don't know how to live with all of these conflicting feelings of hope and terror and feeling suicidal and wanting to live and the incongruence makes me sick. I wish I could just be ONE way, but no, my silly little brain basically shattered into a million pieces and there's no glue
I don't know how I haven't just gotten the guts to do it yet. I know it's the right thing to do. I know it's what my father would want. I know my mom would love being flocked by the family to support her through the grief. My sister would just say, "Finally" and roll her eyes. My brother probably wouldn't think about it to be honest.
Now I'm older, I have a fiance, but I feel dead inside. We're semi-long distance, I see him around every 2-3 weeks, but we're separated by a border and I have citizenship paperwork in process. The more days go by without an answer the deader I feel.
My body can't take any more.
But I can't even kill myself.
There are voices that constantly mock me and yell at me and tell me to die, saying to just do it already.
There are voices that keep pulling me back and telling me no and trying to live.
And I feel trapped between them.
I feel possessed throughout the days, just doing things and saying things and watching as it feels like someone else drives my body. I keep screaming from the inside to make it stop. I just want to stay home. I just want to be in bed. I want to stop eating. I want to wither away. I can't.
I have DID. Only my fiance and one of my college profs knows. I was doing research on it, and honestly that made everything worse. I'm sick of how much I've had to read about how "rare" it is and how "controversial" it is. I'm sick of reading about how the fucking curse I live with every day "isn't even real." It's real, and it's awful, and it's not like the movies.
70% of people with DID attempt suicide. My only other friend who had it committed suicide in 2020. But here I am, after several attempts, unable to just do the right thing and end it.
I'm just in limbo. Paperwork not moving. Stuck in the smallest studio apt with no room to breathe. Homework piled up. Broken car and can't afford repairs. No family to turn to. Friends who are so caught up in their own drama they space out when I vent, or cut me off to tend to something else. My surroundings always feel surreal.
I'm sorry to post this. I just need to say it all somewhere, anywhere.
I also just feel so guilty that I'm engaged and I still feel this way. I can't die and leave him with the mess. I can't traumatize him that way. He knows I deal with suicidal ideation and it hurts him but he's still been here for almost five years.
I don't know how to live with all of these conflicting feelings of hope and terror and feeling suicidal and wanting to live and the incongruence makes me sick. I wish I could just be ONE way, but no, my silly little brain basically shattered into a million pieces and there's no glue
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