steppen_wolf
Member
- Sep 23, 2025
- 17
i am making this post simply because there is no one in my life i can tell this to. even worse, i couldn't just hide it this time and had to lie to the people who care most about me.
i honestly cannot recollect why i was feeling so low this last saturday or if there were even specific reasons. i just remember truly, truly feeling like i couldn't take another second being alive, frantic racing thoughts of all methods readily available (none reliable) and being full of such terrible energy i was convinced i'd jump in front of a bus if i left the house. i'm in my mid 20's and have been actively planning out my suicide for months now, but i'm not at a point where it's physically feasible yet. it's like suddenly i was struck by this mixed feeling of overwhelming urgency and helplessness and it was literally unbearable.
i don't remember how it went from there, it's like an out of body experience trying to recollect it, but what i do know is that i took a lot of clonazepam/klonopin, around 50mg (very easy to do in my country, since it comes in drops), and drank a lot of vodka, like over half a liter. i don't know if i did this over a period of time, all at once, what i did for most of the time i spent blacked out, why i did the things i have evidence of having done… just nothing. this probably started at around 4pm saturday and my next conscious memory is from about 5am the next day, lying in bed in a daze, exhausted, in pain and so much confusion.
the first thing i could tell was that i had been bleeding because my bedsheets were stained with it, then that my whole body hurt as i tried standing up, and finally that my entire room had been torn apart. shelves empty because everything on them had been thrown to the floor, an overflowing mess of half-opened books, a million shards of a huge broken mirror, a broken lamp, notebooks, clothes, just every random object you can think of. very much still under the influence i stumbled to the bathroom where there were more blood stains on the walls and on the floor and then my face and neck on the mirror covered in dried blood.
just thinking back to the chaos around me and the utter and complete exhaustion i felt looking at it, knowing i'd have to take care of it alone and in pain and not knowing what had happened, is honestly traumatizing. i don't think i went into a rage during the blackout because i never do when i drink or use benzos. my best guess is i stumbled my way into throwing things to the ground and breaking the mirror, probably physically unable to hold myself up but trying to for some reason, over and over again, trying to take a shower which i know i did because the bathroom floor was flooded and my hair was still wet when i woke up.
i went to the ER on sunday evening when i didn't seem shitfaced anymore. i made up a story about a dizzy spell during a trip to the bathroom and not being able to recall falling or what happened after (not exactly a lie) and they believed me. they scanned me and i remember praying i might've had actually hurt myself badly, like a bleeding in the brain or something. but no, just the broken nose, which i've spent the last two or three days lying to everyone about. my whole body is covered in bruises, and even now my muscles are still sore and i don't know why. i also haven't been able to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time since. after waking up at 5am on sunday i stayed up until 3am on tuesday, i cannot tell why or even how. despite the exhaustion it's like my body and mind are still stuck in that moment of horror of waking up after everything. plus, i am all out of klonopin now lol...
as to friends and family, no one knows i'm suicidal and it's extremely tiring even just having to hold conversations about it like it was just some kooky mishap. obviously i did everything myself, and funnily enough most likely on accident (except the booze and the benzos), but it's like having survived a nightmare i can't even recall, let alone share. i only realized it afterwards, but my very impulsive suicide attempt at 17 was also by mixing benzos and vodka, only way less messy and hurtful and exhausting since i was just lying in bed then, was found out and taken to the hospital still unconscious.
i don't consider what happened now a suicide attempt simply because i wasn't trying to die, though i guess if i were luckier i could have. at least it feels kind of good now to be soothed by the physical pain without having to actively cause it, it's just there as long as i don't take the pain meds, and no one suspects anything.
what's weird(er) to say is i feel genuinely traumatized by what happened, yet can't really begin to articulate why. can't say i won't do it again either, even though now i wish i hadn't. i can't even bring myself to say i regret it, since it doesn't feel like it was *i* that did anything. at least now the truth is out somehow.
(can't believe i typed out all of this. it's probably unreadable, so i'm grateful but also sorry if you've made it here.)
i honestly cannot recollect why i was feeling so low this last saturday or if there were even specific reasons. i just remember truly, truly feeling like i couldn't take another second being alive, frantic racing thoughts of all methods readily available (none reliable) and being full of such terrible energy i was convinced i'd jump in front of a bus if i left the house. i'm in my mid 20's and have been actively planning out my suicide for months now, but i'm not at a point where it's physically feasible yet. it's like suddenly i was struck by this mixed feeling of overwhelming urgency and helplessness and it was literally unbearable.
i don't remember how it went from there, it's like an out of body experience trying to recollect it, but what i do know is that i took a lot of clonazepam/klonopin, around 50mg (very easy to do in my country, since it comes in drops), and drank a lot of vodka, like over half a liter. i don't know if i did this over a period of time, all at once, what i did for most of the time i spent blacked out, why i did the things i have evidence of having done… just nothing. this probably started at around 4pm saturday and my next conscious memory is from about 5am the next day, lying in bed in a daze, exhausted, in pain and so much confusion.
the first thing i could tell was that i had been bleeding because my bedsheets were stained with it, then that my whole body hurt as i tried standing up, and finally that my entire room had been torn apart. shelves empty because everything on them had been thrown to the floor, an overflowing mess of half-opened books, a million shards of a huge broken mirror, a broken lamp, notebooks, clothes, just every random object you can think of. very much still under the influence i stumbled to the bathroom where there were more blood stains on the walls and on the floor and then my face and neck on the mirror covered in dried blood.
just thinking back to the chaos around me and the utter and complete exhaustion i felt looking at it, knowing i'd have to take care of it alone and in pain and not knowing what had happened, is honestly traumatizing. i don't think i went into a rage during the blackout because i never do when i drink or use benzos. my best guess is i stumbled my way into throwing things to the ground and breaking the mirror, probably physically unable to hold myself up but trying to for some reason, over and over again, trying to take a shower which i know i did because the bathroom floor was flooded and my hair was still wet when i woke up.
i went to the ER on sunday evening when i didn't seem shitfaced anymore. i made up a story about a dizzy spell during a trip to the bathroom and not being able to recall falling or what happened after (not exactly a lie) and they believed me. they scanned me and i remember praying i might've had actually hurt myself badly, like a bleeding in the brain or something. but no, just the broken nose, which i've spent the last two or three days lying to everyone about. my whole body is covered in bruises, and even now my muscles are still sore and i don't know why. i also haven't been able to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time since. after waking up at 5am on sunday i stayed up until 3am on tuesday, i cannot tell why or even how. despite the exhaustion it's like my body and mind are still stuck in that moment of horror of waking up after everything. plus, i am all out of klonopin now lol...
as to friends and family, no one knows i'm suicidal and it's extremely tiring even just having to hold conversations about it like it was just some kooky mishap. obviously i did everything myself, and funnily enough most likely on accident (except the booze and the benzos), but it's like having survived a nightmare i can't even recall, let alone share. i only realized it afterwards, but my very impulsive suicide attempt at 17 was also by mixing benzos and vodka, only way less messy and hurtful and exhausting since i was just lying in bed then, was found out and taken to the hospital still unconscious.
i don't consider what happened now a suicide attempt simply because i wasn't trying to die, though i guess if i were luckier i could have. at least it feels kind of good now to be soothed by the physical pain without having to actively cause it, it's just there as long as i don't take the pain meds, and no one suspects anything.
what's weird(er) to say is i feel genuinely traumatized by what happened, yet can't really begin to articulate why. can't say i won't do it again either, even though now i wish i hadn't. i can't even bring myself to say i regret it, since it doesn't feel like it was *i* that did anything. at least now the truth is out somehow.
(can't believe i typed out all of this. it's probably unreadable, so i'm grateful but also sorry if you've made it here.)
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