Today is supposed to be my CTB day. I have all my supplies, I have the house to myself because my parents are out of town until this evening, I've written my notes, I've spent the last week going to all the local restaurants which I really wanted to try, I've played through the video games I was most excited about, I've reread my favorite books that I've been meaning to reread for ages, so there's not anything I feel like I'm missing out on - everything's in order. My parents don't get home for another 4 hours or so, so I could still do things now if I wanted (method is inert gas).
And yet here I am, just letting the clock tick. Every single second, my window of opportunity grows shorter, and I've set a hard limit that if my window drops to less than 2 hours, I won't do it, so there's no risk of me being found in time. My parents are always home usually, since they're both WFH and never go out except to do groceries. No one in this family has friends or a social life, if you couldn't tell.
When my parents told me a couple weeks ago that they'd (very randomly and suddenly) decided to go on a trip for a few days, I thought it was a miracle. They asked if I wanted to come, I said no, thinking to myself that I'll never get an opportunity like this for CTB ever again. My parents haven't gone on a vacation since before COVID. I never have the house to myself, and given how loud my setup is (I've tested it a few times now), I actually don't know if I could do it in a hotel since I might get noise complaints.
So my parents' vacation was supposed to be my golden opportunity to do things at home without worrying about noise or suspicion or being found. I've tested my setup a couple times now and everything works. I don't have any regrets, nothing I'll miss out on doing, I don't feel any guilt, no "so-and-so will be devastated!" because I have no friends or extended family or anybody else and I frankly don't care how my parents will feel since they're the ones making me miserable most of the time, I have no sense of purpose or accomplishment ever since losing my job a year ago and being unable to find a new one, and I have no hope of things getting better. I'm miserable every single day, and I need it to end. There's literally nothing stopping me.
But the clock still ticks. Survival instinct has come for me at the worst possible time.
It's actually really funny because I've tried to end my life before and felt no SI those times. But now I'm feeling it and I can't overcome it and I'm furious with myself. I'm never going to get a chance like this again. The gas cylinder is so much louder than I expected. I need to do things now, before my parents come home, or I'll be stuck here for goodness knows how long.
I caused a minor car crash (no one hurt, thankfully) a bit before I got all my supplies together and I remember wishing so badly, Just let me die right here, right now. Before my parents left for vacation, I got into a fight with them about my unemployment for what feels like the millionth time, and I thought to myself, Just a little longer. Just wait a little longer and you won't have to deal with this ever again. Where did all that suicidal spirit go? My window is closing. Why can't I pick up the f***ing wrench and tighten the connections on the gas cylinder? I need to tighten the connections. Just let me tighten the f***ing connections.
This is the worst time for survival instinct to show up. I hate myself for it. I hate the knowledge that the next time my parents and I fight, I will rue that I didn't end it now while I easily could. I'm going to regret not ending my life when I had a golden opportunity.
Why can't I just end it? I've been seriously wanting to for a year, now. There's nothing logical stopping me, just the fact that my brain seems to have temporarily paralyzed my hand with terror, even though it's a painless method and I haven't talked to anyone besides my parents in a whole year and when I do talk to them, it's arguments. I have no regrets, bucket list is crossed off, what am I waiting for? Gosh, I hate this.
And yet here I am, just letting the clock tick. Every single second, my window of opportunity grows shorter, and I've set a hard limit that if my window drops to less than 2 hours, I won't do it, so there's no risk of me being found in time. My parents are always home usually, since they're both WFH and never go out except to do groceries. No one in this family has friends or a social life, if you couldn't tell.
When my parents told me a couple weeks ago that they'd (very randomly and suddenly) decided to go on a trip for a few days, I thought it was a miracle. They asked if I wanted to come, I said no, thinking to myself that I'll never get an opportunity like this for CTB ever again. My parents haven't gone on a vacation since before COVID. I never have the house to myself, and given how loud my setup is (I've tested it a few times now), I actually don't know if I could do it in a hotel since I might get noise complaints.
So my parents' vacation was supposed to be my golden opportunity to do things at home without worrying about noise or suspicion or being found. I've tested my setup a couple times now and everything works. I don't have any regrets, nothing I'll miss out on doing, I don't feel any guilt, no "so-and-so will be devastated!" because I have no friends or extended family or anybody else and I frankly don't care how my parents will feel since they're the ones making me miserable most of the time, I have no sense of purpose or accomplishment ever since losing my job a year ago and being unable to find a new one, and I have no hope of things getting better. I'm miserable every single day, and I need it to end. There's literally nothing stopping me.
But the clock still ticks. Survival instinct has come for me at the worst possible time.
It's actually really funny because I've tried to end my life before and felt no SI those times. But now I'm feeling it and I can't overcome it and I'm furious with myself. I'm never going to get a chance like this again. The gas cylinder is so much louder than I expected. I need to do things now, before my parents come home, or I'll be stuck here for goodness knows how long.
I caused a minor car crash (no one hurt, thankfully) a bit before I got all my supplies together and I remember wishing so badly, Just let me die right here, right now. Before my parents left for vacation, I got into a fight with them about my unemployment for what feels like the millionth time, and I thought to myself, Just a little longer. Just wait a little longer and you won't have to deal with this ever again. Where did all that suicidal spirit go? My window is closing. Why can't I pick up the f***ing wrench and tighten the connections on the gas cylinder? I need to tighten the connections. Just let me tighten the f***ing connections.
This is the worst time for survival instinct to show up. I hate myself for it. I hate the knowledge that the next time my parents and I fight, I will rue that I didn't end it now while I easily could. I'm going to regret not ending my life when I had a golden opportunity.
Why can't I just end it? I've been seriously wanting to for a year, now. There's nothing logical stopping me, just the fact that my brain seems to have temporarily paralyzed my hand with terror, even though it's a painless method and I haven't talked to anyone besides my parents in a whole year and when I do talk to them, it's arguments. I have no regrets, bucket list is crossed off, what am I waiting for? Gosh, I hate this.
