hitori1973
Member
Below is my suicide note. I posted this in the "networking" area by accident. I think it fits better under "loneliness"
I feel like killing myself but keep holding on in the hope things will get better. They never do, in fact they just get worse. I’m getting too tired to continue. I just don’t care about life anymore.
Will anyone who feels (or has felt) the same way talk to me?
Last Words
It seems that the better half of my life is over and from here it promises nothing but diminishing returns.
I watched my father grow old, weary, and depressed until I found him dead upon his bedroom floor.
I see my mother on the same path. She seems to me a shell of her former self and I miss her already.
Is this what is left - to watch myself become defiled by age and crushed by loneliness?
I used to be happy. I didn’t think my life would turn out this way - such a disappointment.
I imagined I would be happily married with children on whom I could dote.
That never happened. [my wife] didn’t want children but I married her anyway because I didn’t want to be alone any longer. Now she is divorcing me because my depression has become too inconvenient for her.
Love seems cruel to me. A dopamine-induced delusion followed by a creeping coldness maintained by mutual convenience. This is a reality too difficult to bear for I loved her more than my own life; but now she doesn’t want me anymore and I’m back where I started – sad and lonely.
The platitude about suicide that “it is a permanent solution to a temporary problem” bothers me. I’ve struggled with my depression and suicidal feelings for over thirteen years and I’ve been painfully lonely for the majority of my life - it doesn’t feel very temporary to me.
To those who have ever held me in their heart:
Please don’t feel sorry for me; my pain is over.
I know this is a selfish act.
I’m sorry to leave you this way.
The guilt I feel about the pain my suicide will cause has kept me from following through with my plans for a number of years.
But is guilt really a reason to live?
I just don’t want to do this any longer. I’m too sad, discouraged, and lonely. I’m tired of picking myself back up. I think I have given life an honest try. Happiness has been elusive and ephemeral in my life. I’m done chasing the mirage and quit this life with no regrets except your pain.
To Mom:
I am sure my death will deal you the hardest blow.
I’m so sorry for causing you such grief – please forgive me.
I never wanted to do this while you were still living but I just can’t hold out any longer.
Your religious and political fanaticism has alienated you from those you love – including me. Don’t waste your remaining years on that crap. No one really cares about it - they just care about you.
You seem to have lost your marbles and it has been depressing for [my sister] and me to watch. It’s like the mother who raised us has been dying in slow motion before our eyes bit by bit for the last decade or more. I say this in the hope that you are still capable of changing for [my sister] and [niece]’s sake.
I don’t believe in religion, let alone share your beliefs. I don’t make any claims about what will happen to my “soul” after I am dead; I just want the suffering to end. I know you will worry that I am in Hell. I can only say: A god that is unable to forgive is no God at all. I have tried to do right in this world and quietly suffered a misery that most others do not understand. A god that would sentence me to eternal punishment is not a god worthy of love – only fear and loathing.
If Heaven does exist (and I hope it does – who doesn’t?), I hope to be there with Dad to greet you there when you arrive. But don’t be in a hurry to die (I cringe at my hypocrisy in saying this), Molly will need you now more than ever.
I love you more than words can express.
You have loved me more than anyone ever has or ever will – no one even compares. Thank you so much!
It is no coincidence that dying soldiers cry out for their mothers.
My greatest sin is leaving you like this. If you can forgive me I’m sure God can too.
To [my sister]:
It makes me extremely sad to think of you being left alone after Mom’s death. I wish we could have been closer, gotten along better, shared more things in common…
Please be strong and healthy for [niece]. Our family may have been built on a “broken” foundation and crumbled upon itself, but at least you have your own family now. You may have difficulties in your relationship with [brother in law] but is he not a good person? A devoted husband and father? Marriage is hard. There are no simple answers I can provide in this department…life and love are not like the TV shows we grew up with. There are no happy endings - just ups and downs I guess.
I know you will probably blame my suicide on my meds but I would not have made it this far without them. I have struggled with suicide since coming home from college. I planned my suicide as I went to sleep every night the year before I met Tanya. The meds at least helped to buy some time and keep me functioning. I still recommend that you give medication a try. You may find that your depression and anxiety have been weighing you down more than you ever believed.
To [niece]:
I wish I could have watched you grow up. You may not even remember me, but know I loved you a great deal and you provided me with great joy. Be smart, independent, honest, kind and most of all, do what makes you happy (as long as it isn’t harmful to you or others of course).
To my students:
The majority of my happiest moments this past year have been laughing with you.
I am ashamed of my failure as a role model.
I hope you never feel the way I have.
To those of you who REALLY liked me: thank you for being a friend; you understood a part of me that most adults never could.
I wish I never had to grow up. Empathy, idealism, and independent-thought can become poisonous in adulthood and survivors must find ways to limit their effects.
Goodbye
I was never much of a Shakespeare fan before but now Hamlet's soliloquy resonates with me greatly.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of disprized love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
I feel like killing myself but keep holding on in the hope things will get better. They never do, in fact they just get worse. I’m getting too tired to continue. I just don’t care about life anymore.
Will anyone who feels (or has felt) the same way talk to me?
Last Words
It seems that the better half of my life is over and from here it promises nothing but diminishing returns.
I watched my father grow old, weary, and depressed until I found him dead upon his bedroom floor.
I see my mother on the same path. She seems to me a shell of her former self and I miss her already.
Is this what is left - to watch myself become defiled by age and crushed by loneliness?
I used to be happy. I didn’t think my life would turn out this way - such a disappointment.
I imagined I would be happily married with children on whom I could dote.
That never happened. [my wife] didn’t want children but I married her anyway because I didn’t want to be alone any longer. Now she is divorcing me because my depression has become too inconvenient for her.
Love seems cruel to me. A dopamine-induced delusion followed by a creeping coldness maintained by mutual convenience. This is a reality too difficult to bear for I loved her more than my own life; but now she doesn’t want me anymore and I’m back where I started – sad and lonely.
The platitude about suicide that “it is a permanent solution to a temporary problem” bothers me. I’ve struggled with my depression and suicidal feelings for over thirteen years and I’ve been painfully lonely for the majority of my life - it doesn’t feel very temporary to me.
To those who have ever held me in their heart:
Please don’t feel sorry for me; my pain is over.
I know this is a selfish act.
I’m sorry to leave you this way.
The guilt I feel about the pain my suicide will cause has kept me from following through with my plans for a number of years.
But is guilt really a reason to live?
I just don’t want to do this any longer. I’m too sad, discouraged, and lonely. I’m tired of picking myself back up. I think I have given life an honest try. Happiness has been elusive and ephemeral in my life. I’m done chasing the mirage and quit this life with no regrets except your pain.
To Mom:
I am sure my death will deal you the hardest blow.
I’m so sorry for causing you such grief – please forgive me.
I never wanted to do this while you were still living but I just can’t hold out any longer.
Your religious and political fanaticism has alienated you from those you love – including me. Don’t waste your remaining years on that crap. No one really cares about it - they just care about you.
You seem to have lost your marbles and it has been depressing for [my sister] and me to watch. It’s like the mother who raised us has been dying in slow motion before our eyes bit by bit for the last decade or more. I say this in the hope that you are still capable of changing for [my sister] and [niece]’s sake.
I don’t believe in religion, let alone share your beliefs. I don’t make any claims about what will happen to my “soul” after I am dead; I just want the suffering to end. I know you will worry that I am in Hell. I can only say: A god that is unable to forgive is no God at all. I have tried to do right in this world and quietly suffered a misery that most others do not understand. A god that would sentence me to eternal punishment is not a god worthy of love – only fear and loathing.
If Heaven does exist (and I hope it does – who doesn’t?), I hope to be there with Dad to greet you there when you arrive. But don’t be in a hurry to die (I cringe at my hypocrisy in saying this), Molly will need you now more than ever.
I love you more than words can express.
You have loved me more than anyone ever has or ever will – no one even compares. Thank you so much!
It is no coincidence that dying soldiers cry out for their mothers.
My greatest sin is leaving you like this. If you can forgive me I’m sure God can too.
To [my sister]:
It makes me extremely sad to think of you being left alone after Mom’s death. I wish we could have been closer, gotten along better, shared more things in common…
Please be strong and healthy for [niece]. Our family may have been built on a “broken” foundation and crumbled upon itself, but at least you have your own family now. You may have difficulties in your relationship with [brother in law] but is he not a good person? A devoted husband and father? Marriage is hard. There are no simple answers I can provide in this department…life and love are not like the TV shows we grew up with. There are no happy endings - just ups and downs I guess.
I know you will probably blame my suicide on my meds but I would not have made it this far without them. I have struggled with suicide since coming home from college. I planned my suicide as I went to sleep every night the year before I met Tanya. The meds at least helped to buy some time and keep me functioning. I still recommend that you give medication a try. You may find that your depression and anxiety have been weighing you down more than you ever believed.
To [niece]:
I wish I could have watched you grow up. You may not even remember me, but know I loved you a great deal and you provided me with great joy. Be smart, independent, honest, kind and most of all, do what makes you happy (as long as it isn’t harmful to you or others of course).
To my students:
The majority of my happiest moments this past year have been laughing with you.
I am ashamed of my failure as a role model.
I hope you never feel the way I have.
To those of you who REALLY liked me: thank you for being a friend; you understood a part of me that most adults never could.
I wish I never had to grow up. Empathy, idealism, and independent-thought can become poisonous in adulthood and survivors must find ways to limit their effects.
Goodbye
I was never much of a Shakespeare fan before but now Hamlet's soliloquy resonates with me greatly.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of disprized love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.