Reading these suicide pages you will find people seeking help and people offering their help. Some witness about suicide from real life experience, others who play along with me would pretend it's a children's game. Some make sick and cruel jokes about it, and angry people blame me for even mentioning the subject. You might also want to read my favourite answers. If you want your answer to be included here, fill in the form.

Date Name/email

What is the best way to kill yourself when you're under 13?

Quelle est la meilleure forme de suicide pour les moins de 13 ans?
19 Oct 2008 Uukkyy Take some of mummy's pills you find in the medicine cabnet.
Overdose and go to sleep. Relax. Let the pills work.
Make sure you tell all the people that care for you that you love them and thanks for everything thy have done. Jst a shame it wasn't enough I guess.
18 Oct 2008 Georgia Please don't do it. I came to this site because I also searched for a way to commit suicide painlessly. My boyfriend broke up with me the night before a final. He was the only person in the world I loved. It's been 6 months and I still cry at night because I miss him. But I promise you, it will get better, for me and for you. Life gets so much better from high school. If you are fat, you will lose weight. If you have no friends, you will make yourself popular. If you are poor, you will be rich. If someone is hurting you, there are people out there who will listen and will get you out of your situation for free. Go to your local emergency room, google a shelter, call a legal aid number, call Samaritans, talk to someone right now. I know it helps, it's what I did and it's why I am still here. Suicide does not just harm you. It denies the entire world all the possibility that you hold. You do not know what you might accomplish one day and it is simply not fair to deny the rest of us the possibility of your gifts. Think of it as a gamble. You will die no matter what, that's certain. And right now, you feel miserable, but that might not always be true. Isn't it worth the gamble that one day things will get better? Even if you live for a hundred years, life on this Earth is short. What seems like endless pain to you now will seem like a second when all is said and done. Please keep trying.
18 Oct 2008 Jebediah Hussein No matter what the age, narcotic overdose is preferred. Painless, even fun! Woot!!!
18 Oct 2008 time to ride, time to die when i kill myself i dont want to be rememberedi just want to leave pain in EVERYONE'S life for the hell they put me through!!!!
17 Oct 2008 Talk To Me you guys need to vent and you know it
i need to vent too
im not trying to convince anyone to stope what they're doing but i think you just need someone to talk to and love you.

e-mail me:
16 Oct 2008 Kuborion Bye-bye, baby,
Don't be long.
I worry about you
While you're gone...
15 Oct 2008 Zach Go visit a site called To Write Love on Her Arms. If you haven't heard of it, a girl once tried to kill herself multiple times, but never succeeded. Her friends made this site as a support for her. They told her story and how it affected everyone around her. I can't remember when the site was originally created, but since then, thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of kids and teens and even adults have posted similar stories and ways to overcome these feeling of hopelessness.
I used to think about killing myself all the time, but then something happened and my life changed. I've started to feel suicidal again, but I still hope that something amazing will happen.
If you are serious about killing yourself, and aren't here just for laughs, good luck. Maybe you'll survive to contemplate the meaning of your existence another day. If you don't, then I guess I'm glad that you've succeeded where many have failed.
14 Oct 2008 rezz im 12... im sorry, this is the dumbest site i have ever seen in my life. The answers that others put up to this questions are good but this question it self is very, very, stupid - I can't take this, I'm tired, sad and there's only one way out - People who try to die don't realize how corny and crappy this sounds. The whole point is that you want to feel better. Not die. People commit suicide cuz they think they'll have a better life. Now let me tell you reality for athiests. If you die for someone to make them happy, it's not gonna be a great touching story of how you'll be in hevean watching over them. You die, you done existing in this world. You're not there. You want to feel better. Not screw play with life and die. Now for god believers - It makes me so mad to think of you bastards. You go to hell for giving up in hope. not hevean. I get mad cuz god made you for a reason. Look at africa or iran and places like that. Kids don't kill them selves cuz of their hopeless lives. They live. Live cuz they want more. And here you guys are probably on this site cuz ur boyfriend turned gay and broke up with you or something. We have a lot to learn from kids like that. My little sister died when she was 6. She caught an amonia. SHE didn't die. She tried to live. She was the bravest smartest girl in the world. She new that she was going to die before i even did. But she would smile in front of me with what ever I did. My friend in Kenya didn't kill her self when she caught malaria. I couldn't go near her for 5 weeks. She eventually died but she tried to live. My friends mom died two months ago from breast cancer. But when she died, my friend didn't cry or tried to kill her self. She wants to become a great doctor and now she's in the best middle school of tokyo cuz she knows theres hope. Thats why all you sons are stupid. It's your choice if you want to die but go ahead. I hope you go to hell and Satan rips out your eye sockets out. Hope you learned.
13 Oct 2008 crystal The Quest - by Wystan Hugh Auden

I. The Door

Out of it steps our future, through this door
Enigmas, executioners and rules,
Her Majesty in a bad temper or
A red-nosed Fool who makes a fool of fools.

Great persons eye it in the twilight for
A past it might so carelessly let in,
A widow with a missionary grin,
The foaming inundation at a roar.

We pile our all against it when afraid,
And beat upon its panels when we die:
By happening to be open once, it made

Enormous Alice see a wonderland
That waited for her in the sunshine and,
Simply by being tiny, made her cry.

II. The Preparations

All had been ordered weeks before the start
From the best firms at such work: instruments
To take the measure of all queer events,
And drugs to move the bowels or the heart.

A watch, of course, to watch impatience fly,
Lamps for the dark and shades against the sun;
Foreboding, too, insisted on a gun,
And coloured beads to soothe a savage eye.

In theory they were sound on Expectation,
Had there been situations to be in;
Unluckily they were their situation:

One should not give a poisoner medicine,
A conjurer fine apparatus, nor
A rifle to a melancholic bore.

III. The Crossroads

Two friends who met here and embraced are gone,
Each to his own mistake; one flashes on
To fame and ruin in a rowdy lie,
A village torpor holds the other one,
Some local wrong where it takes time to die:
This empty junction glitters in the sun.

So at all quays and crossroads: who can tell
These places of decision and farewell
To what dishonour all adventure leads,
What parting gift could give that friend protection,
So orientated his vocation needs
The Bad Lands and the sinister direction?

All landscapes and all weathers freeze with fear,
But none have ever thought, the legends say,
The time allowed made it impossible;
For even the most pessimistic set
The limit of their errors at a year.
What friends could there be left then to betray,
What joy take longer to atone for; yet
Who could complete without the extra day
The journey that should take no time at all?

IV. The Traveler

No window in his suburb lights that bedroom where
A little fever heard large afternoons at play:
His meadows multiply; that mill, though, is not there
Which went on grinding at the back of love all day.

Nor all his weeping ways through weary wastes have found
The castle where his Greater Hallows are interned;
For broken bridges halt him, and dark thickets round
Some ruin where an evil heritage was burned.

Could he forget a child's ambition to be old
And institutions where it learned to wash and lie,
He'd tell the truth for which he thinks himself too young,

That everywhere on his horizon, all the sky,
Is now, as always, only waiting to be told
To be his father's house and speak his mother tongue.

V. The City

In villages from which their childhoods came
Seeking Necessity, they had been taught
Necessity by nature is the same
No matter how or by whom it be sought.

The city, though, assumed no such belief,
But welcomed each as if he came alone,
The nature of Necessity like grief
Exactly corresponding to his own.

And offered them so many, every one
Found some temptation fit to govern him,
And settled down to master the whole craft

Of being nobody; sat in the sun
During the lunch-hour round the fountain rim,
And watched the country kids arrive, and laughed.

VI. The First Temptation

Ashamed to be the darling of his grief,
He joined a gang of rowdy stories where
His gift for magic quickly made him chief
Of all these boyish powers of the air;

Who turned his hungers into Roman food,
The town's asymmetry into a park;
All hours took taxis; any solitude
Became his flattered duchess in the dark.

But, if he wished for anything less grand,
The nights came padding after him like wild
Beasts that meant harm, and all the doors cried Thief;

And when Truth had met him and put out her hand,
He clung in panic to his tall belief
And shrank away like an ill-treated child.

VII. The Second Temptation

His library annoyed him with its look
Of calm belief in being really there;
He threw away a rival's boring book,
And clattered panting up the spiral stair.

Swaying upon the parapet he cried:
"O Uncreated Nothing, set me free,
Now let Thy perfect be identified,
Unending passion of the Night, with Thee."

And his long-suffering flesh, that all the time
Had felt the simple cravings of the stone
And hoped to be rewarded for her climb,

Took it to be a promise when he spoke
That now at last she would be left alone,
And plunged into the college quad, and broke.

VIII. The Third Temptation

He watched with all his organs of concern
How princes walk, what wives and children say,
Re-opened old graves in his heart to learn
What laws the dead had died to disobey,

And came reluctantly to his conclusion:
"All the arm-chair philosophies are false;
To love another adds to the confusion;
The song of mercy is the Devil's Waltz."

All that he put his hand to prospered so
That soon he was the very King of creatures,
Yet, in an autumn nightmare trembled, for,

Approaching down a ruined corridor,
Strode someone with his own distorted features
Who wept, and grew enormous, and cried Woe.

IX. The Tower

This is an architecture for the old;
Thus heaven was attacked by the afraid,
So once, unconsciously, a virgin made
Her maidenhead conspicuous to a god.

Here on dark nights while worlds of triumph sleep
Lost Love in abstract speculation burns,
And exiled Will to politics returns
In epic verse that makes its traitors weep.

Yet many come to wish their tower a well;
For those who dread to drown, of thirst may die,
Those who see all become invisible:

Here great magicians, caught in their own spell,
Long for a natural climate as they sigh
"Beware of Magic" to the passer-by.

X. The Presumptuous

They noticed that virginity was needed
To trap the unicorn in every case,
But not that, of those virgins who succeeded,
A high percentage had an ugly face.

The hero was as daring as they thought him,
But his peculiar boyhood missed them all;
The angel of a broken leg had taught him
The right precautions to avoid a fall.

So in presumption they set forth alone
On what, for them, was not compulsory,
And stuck half-way to settle in some cave
With desert lions to domesticity,

Or turned aside to be absurdly brave,
And met the ogre and were turned to stone.

XI. The Average

His peasant parents killed themselves with toil
To let their darling leave a stingy soil
For any of those fine professions which
Encourage shallow breathing, and grow rich.

The pressure of their fond ambition made
Their shy and country-loving child afraid
No sensible career was good enough,
Only a hero could deserve such love.

So here he was without maps or supplies,
A hundred miles from any decent town;
The desert glared into his blood-shot eyes,
The silence roared displeasure:
looking down,
He saw the shadow of an Average Man
Attempting the exceptional, and ran.

XII. Vocation

Incredulous, he stared at the amused
Official writing down his name among
Those whose request to suffer was refused.

The pen ceased scratching: though he came too late
To join the martyrs, there was still a place
Among the tempters for a caustic tongue

To test the resolution of the young
With tales of the small failings of the great,
And shame the eager with ironic praise.

Though mirrors might be hateful for a while,
Women and books would teach his middle age
The fencing wit of an informal style,
To keep the silences at bay and cage
His pacing manias in a worldly smile.

XIII. The Useful

The over-logical fell for the witch
Whose argument converted him to stone,
Thieves rapidly absorbed the over-rich,
The over-popular went mad alone,
And kisses brutalised the over-male.

As agents their importance quickly ceased;
Yet, in proportion as they seemed to fail,
Their instrumental value was increased
For one predestined to attain their wish.

By standing stones the blind can feel their way,
Wild dogs compel the cowardly to fight,
Beggars assist the slow to travel light,
And even madmen manage to convey
Unwelcome truths in lonely gibberish.

XIV. The Way

Fresh addenda are published every day
To the encyclopedia of the Way,

Linguistic notes and scientific explanations,
And texts for schools with modernised spelling and illustrations.

Now everyone knows the hero must choose the old horse,
Abstain from liquor and sexual intercourse,

And look out for a stranded fish to be kind to:
Now everyone thinks he could find, had he a mind to,

The way through the waste to the chapel in the rock
For a vision of the Triple Rainbow or the Astral Clock,

Forgetting his information comes mostly from married men
Who liked fishing and a flutter on the horses now and then.

And how reliable can any truth be that is got
By observing oneself and then just inserting a Not?

XV. The Lucky

Suppose he'd listened to the erudite committee,
He would have only found where not to look;
Suppose his terrier when he whistled had obeyed,
It would not have unearthed the buried city;
Suppose he had dismissed the careless maid,
The cryptogram would not have fluttered from the book.

"It was not I," he cried as, healthy and astounded,
He stepped across a predecessor's skull;
"A nonsense jingle simply came into my head
And left the intellectual Sphinx dumbfounded;
I won the Queen because my hair was red;
The terrible adventure is a little dull."

Hence Failure's torment: "Was I doomed in any case,
Or would I not have failed had I believed in Grace?"

XVI. The Hero

He parried every question that they hurled:
"What did the Emperor tell you?" "Not to push."
"What is the greatest wonder of the world?"
"The bare man Nothing in the Beggar's Bush."

Some muttered: "He is cagey for effect.
A hero owes a duty to his fame.
He looks too like a grocer for respect."
Soon they slipped back into his Christian name.

The only difference that could be seen
From those who'd never risked their lives at all
Was his delight in details and routine:

For he was always glad to mow the grass,
Pour liquids from large bottles into small,
Or look at clouds through bits of coloured glass.

XVII. Adventure

Others had found it prudent to withdraw
Before official pressure was applied,
Embittered robbers outlawed by the Law,
Lepers in terror of the terrified.

But no one else accused these of a crime;
They did not look ill: old friends, overcome,
Stared as they rolled away from talk and time
Like marbles out into the blank and dumb.

The crowd clung all the closer to convention,
Sunshine and horses, for the sane know why
The even numbers should ignore the odd:

The Nameless is what no free people mention;
Successful men know better than to try
To see the face of their Absconded God.

XVIII. The Adventurers

Spinning upon their central thirst like tops,
They went the Negative Way towards the Dry;
By empty caves beneath an empty sky
They emptied out their memories like slops,

Which made a foul marsh as they dried to death,
Where monsters bred who forced them to forget
The lovelies their consent avoided; yet,
Still praising the Absurd with their last breath,

They seeded out into their miracles:
The images of each grotesque temptation
Became some painter's happiest inspiration,

And barren wives and burning virgins came
To drink the pure cold water of their wells,
And wish for beaux and children in their name.

XIX. The Waters

Poet, oracle, and wit
Like unsuccessful anglers by
The ponds of apperception sit,
Baiting with the wrong request
The vectors of their interest,
At nightfall tell the angler's lie.

With time in tempest everywhere,
To rafts of frail assumption cling
The saintly and the insincere;
Enraged phenomena bear down
In overwhelming waves to drown
Both sufferer and suffering.

The waters long to hear our question put
Which would release their longed-for answer, but.

XX. The Garden

Within these gates all opening begins:
White shouts and flickers through its green and red,
Where children play at seven earnest sins
And dogs believe their tall conditions dead.

Here adolescence into number breaks
The perfect circle time can draw on stone,
And flesh forgives division as it makes
Another's moment of consent its own.

All journeys die here: wish and weight are lifted:
Where often round some old maid's desolation
Roses have flung their glory like a cloak,

The gaunt and great, the famed for conversation
Blushed in the stare of evening as they spoke
And felt their centre of volition shifted.
13 Oct 2008 Christmas Jones Kurt Vonnegut put it best,
"No damn cat, no damn cradle."
In other words everything is fucking absurd. I mean have you looked at the debt lately,
10 trillion fucking dollars, the giant sign that is supposed to keep track of the debt doesn't even have enough spaces for that number. Everything is absurd. Suicide is a fine idea these days, I just hope everything is not as absurd on the other side. Is heaven in a bloody recession too!?!
13 Oct 2008 P.Beatriz With everything thats going on i just cant deal with it
13 Oct 2008 Sarah Take Shit Loads Of Pills..
Thats What I Do
Urghh I Took 30 paracetomal
with straight vodka
Did Nothing To Me!
12 Oct 2008 David I read all these books about human survival, and how people beat insurmountable odds by staying alive, and then I read all this stuff about people who want to kill themselves. It doesn't make any sense on any level. You have been given the gift of life. I understand your life may be pretty shitty right now, but believe me you will have so much satisfaction and fullfillment if you get through these tough times. This is YOUR life, not the bastards who are trying to bring you down. Whether it's your peers or parents or whomever, beat them by rising above all the crap that is dished out to you and focus on one goal. Finsish school, get a really good job, find one true good friend, something, but please don't let the bastards win. YOU have control of your life and only YOU can make it or break it. I can help you. If you need help contact me at
12 Oct 2008 wwww sincerly, I Havn't got a best way
12 Oct 2008 Troy mouchette my sucide suggestion is 35%
down. after what bella wants me to do
on her bed post.

Troy says

hey guys,im in shit again.

this girl i know has something bad,they think
the chemo killed her sea monkey eggs too,they
might come back after a few months,im going to
canada in feb 1st to see her.

i have to sell my motor bike,GPRS system,take out
a loan and save every pay check from now,just to be
able to afford a airfare ticket.

its fked.

but things look up abit,her step mom is having a kid
in the next few days,i ordered a mushroom 1up cap
for him when i visit,won't fit him striaght away
but he will grow into it,and heh plus her sister
bella wants a lap dance from me.


i said,show me your bed post when i get there
dim the lights,and play jimi hendrix - foxy lady.

but fuck if i can't make it,im gonna break into
pieces,if she dies,i think i might join her,a book
my sensei got from europe,he gave to me shows you
how to do that thing they call the delayed death
touch,the one only taoist preists are meant to know.

if anyone wants to know how to do it,just email me
with your chinse star sign,and i'll find and scan the
page,with the name of the pressure point you have to
hit at a certain time which is listed on there with the
moons cycles.

im the tiger in the chinse zodiac,my pressure point that
cuases death in a average of 15 days,is called the median

im not in great conidtion right now but better than last
year,i had a run in with some psychic stalkers,that were
obessed with not normal auras and the time life magzine.

i damaged one of my brain hemspheres really bad,one side was
slower then the other,i couldn't drive,or throw a baseball
or play video games without getting creamed in 10 seconds.

i recovered,but another incident like that,and i don't think i
make round 3,with a pulse.

Psychologists watching if you want to put your money where your
mouth is,email me,if you think you can help me with air fare

if i can get there in feb,me and another friend who are going
nick from washiton state,have a plan,i have a some paw paw leaf
extract i got from japan,its strong shit,can cure some forms of
cancer,nicks going to try and convince her to try it.

poor bugger,by law they have to write a report if they think
there patient is going to hurt them selfs,only i think that they took
it out of context,she only refused treatment becuase she didn't
like the side effects,so her psyche docter writes a sucide report
for her,how nice. NOT!

i know shes going to try mary jane on a med script too,to try and
kill the cancer cells.

Psychologists,and other do gooders that can't sit still
email me

if you think you can help me with air fare money.

after everything i am going to do,that i addded up.
i'll barely have 40% of the air fare.

by the time feb comes,i've got more docters bills hitting me
again,making it a tight sqeeze.

if your not normal or whats considered normal,docters want to
milk you with Fascist drug companys,and tell you,you have ADHD.

i need 3000$ before feb 1st,good idea to get it to me,50%,40%35%
of it atleast 14 days before,i've been looking at the air line time
tables,trouble shooting a route,so i can get there the same time as

i can get almost 40% of the fare by my self.

the plane ticket to canada costs about 2200$ approx and thats
without luggage fee's,plus you need alittle cash on hand,other
wise customs won't let you thru,they'll want to know why you
are coming into country,hear your life story,provoke an outburst
and then take you away.

if you don't have spare cash on hand to support your self while your
there,even thou,i will be sleeping on her floor.

any Psychologists That does any unsolicited Behavior concerning my
ip and Identity.

not related to the topic.

can expect to see me in person,blink with a cats eye while lighting
a match without a box,before i turn there sanity into a Paradoxical oxymoron
worse then microsoft works.

i just had my passport photo done,worse photo in history,looks like a real mug
shot without the betty boop stickers and the empty tear drop tattoo.

i look like a drug dealer just converted me.

thats what i get for staying up 3 days at a time working and listening to gary
glitter - full monty theme.

i look human,and i can imagine anyone that hears things that they can't understand
will obviously think its crazy like tpycial parents who can't see someone elses
point of view.

but if you ever see me,i can do good things and bad things,im the only person
in history that whos full name can spell death,gucess what i look like?

the x genration version of death.

not the classic,black robe and sickle from wal mart with a hello kitty backpack.

my index finger can cure Infertility,with just one tap on the nose.

i might be able to do it easyer then everyone else without needing to do what
you would,but if god was made in
mans image,and you love your parther,one tap on the nose and wait a few
months,sea monkey eggs will come back,if you love her,it will work,just
have faith,the magic god uses,that can't be tampered with,is called love.

and i can also kill anything i touch if i want it to.

ironic i can't kill my self that way if i wanted to go.

Unfortunately i don't have a normal life,and have done and seen things that
would make an atheist turn pale.

only advice i can give you guys is don't mess with the zodiac or get too curious
with star sign settings,if you manage to get deep enough in it.

you won't have a normal life,expect psychic stalkers,as soon as they sense how
much purpose you have,they will target you.

and stalk your steps.

i still can't believe how silly they are,thinking something that is either already
dead,or fictional to atheists like edward cullen,can die.

i saw one of there posts the other day on the local notice board,and some disturbing
graffiti,there looking for me.

it said,"free psychic readings"


play The Beatles - Come Together

with a

poker face.

10 Oct 2008 Kuborion Sometimes I just feel like dying.
Then I realise it would be no fun at all and quickly abandon that idea.
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"ii B33N THRU AL0T 0F SHiT iiN MA LiF3..BUT iMA K33P MA H3AD UP LiK3 MA N0S3 iiSZ BL33DiN!!!"
09 Oct 2008 dead stop being a bitch and do it you sorry pieces of shits
08 Oct 2008 Camilo Vargas choking on a waffle.
08 Oct 2008 Viola Tione Start by attending enough school so that the social pecking order crushes your spirit. Listen to all those who tell you it is only temporary to let your agony drag on and on. They of course don't share your problems. Eventually you will get so that you have no spirit left in you and suicide then is irrelevant.

Mental health professionals will make money off of you, or your parents' insurance, if they are lucky enough to have health insurance, making themselves richer by prolonging your life and trying to make you see that it is worth it. This desire they feel for you to live is really their own fear of death, not any concern for your well-being or whether you want to live. They want to you to be a rich person's servant your whole life. They want you to be a member of their "community". But it is all a lie. Their community is filth. People might pretend to care, but don't be fooled. Nobody cares. Nobody. You are ALONE.

Playing on the old footprints in the sand poem it must be said that if you look back and see only one set of footprints that was because God was riding on your back and whipping you to make you go faster.

Consider also that humans are incapable of altering their own collectively self-destructive behaviors while the seek to remedy the individually self-destructive behaviors of others.

Ask yourself do you really want to live with these people? Do your friends and family say they "love" you? Or are they venomous liars who love only themselves and are incapable of seeing anything beneath surface appearances?

There are two excellent methods. First, shoot yourself in the head, not the heart or anything else. If you live you wont remember what happened anyway. Chances are you will die. Second, if you have a working syringe, (it need not be a clean one for this method), fill it with air, put it into a properly popped out vein and give your heart a breath of fresh air.

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