|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.|
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?
|21 Dec 2003||I hate you||I did it! It's awsome!! The feeling of falling into a deep coma forever. The hopeless feeling that my neural functions are slowly ceasing to operate. I was in a hospital room, the doctor didn't say anything, but I am in a state of full awareness when they open my skull. It's unbelievable and very strange.
When they decide to operate on me to remove the blood chunk in my brain, they can't afford to loose me by using to much anesthetics by knocking out my heart beat completely... something to do with pons and medulla region... I heard everything with my eyes shut. I remember feeling like I was in my own of prison waiting to be freed. And strangely, there was no pain, or maybe there were... the pain didn't really matter at that point. I was ready to learn about every thing about neuroscience.
The doctors seemed professional, because I could not sense any emtions involved. They were like a very careful life saving butcher with artistical hands.
Fear is only another emotion that is constantly increasing... How much I wanted just stand up and scare the shit out of them. But I can't, powerless to move. Helpless, hopeless...
All of sudden I feel sorry, as I see out of corner of my eye and see a nurse, the only one there seem to have some human emotions dropped a tear... I remember my family, those waiting outside the room must feel ten times worse than that nurse I don't know.
I could choose right and then to fight or to let it go... but I felt so powerless to fight, afterall the reason I got myself into this situation is because I can't bare to take it any more. And I say to myself "this is not too bad, not as painful as I thought" Even though I wanted it short and painless, this took much longer than I thought. If I concentrate hard enough I could feel the pain... not like any pain I ever felt before, but a constant sensation that seemed very friendly. Yes, I thought the pain was like a guardian angel that travelled since the beginning of time. And I was fearing losing it, trying to grab on my sensation of pain forever.
I didn't see a tunnel of light, and everything was getting darker and feelingless. So I thought I was going to hell... but why feel so peaceful?
This is the second time... I might develop a sick fetish of killing myself imcompletely and letting people save me. They might lock me up one of these days, and my fear is, I won't even have control of my own life in this world. If I can't even decide how I wanted to live my life, then... what's the purpose of my existence.
Meaningless, life is to be, at least for me.
Part of me still wishes to be normal, and even very sociable on good days, feeling life is so beautiful. Part of me sees the reality, the ugliness of mankind, the stinks of this city of this planet, wishing the world be destroyed hundred times and cast into the sun. Wishing People stop pretending that their life have a purpose, hoping people remember from the time when we are born, we are waiting to die. We are just fucking animals covered flowery skin, wolves under sheep's clothing.
How many justifications do you see per day? How many lies do you hear per week? Layer upon layer, I wanted to fucking uncover all your layers. I want to expose all of you liars out there. I hate this fucking planet. I hate all of you. You fucking stink of worldly taste. Why do I have do it myself? If there is a God, help me to die, erase my life from this world, erase all of you who think the same way. Let the dogs live in a dog's world.
|21 Dec 2003||Emily Powell||Hey I'm new, I desperately want to kill myself, but am a complete pussy and want it to be as painless as possible. I have been looking for ages on pills that an overdose will definitely kill you, but have been unsucessful. I don't want to make it if I try, because I'll go through hell afterwards, and probably would be able to try again very easily. So if anyone has any suggestions, they would be greatly appreciated. Thanks|
|21 Dec 2003||LeanneaboutChris||I'm back but not better. I've been busy thinking about trying not to think. Feeling too much or too little, I'd rather feel nothing. I used to feel numb, nothing, frozen and blank. Now, I'd actually like that back... too much emotion is a poison. I've gained bad times, and lost the good&distant ones. I have been longing and yearning for something, someone. A figment of my imagination perhaps? Somebody who can see the 'me' inside, who I wish was here but can't be. I lost touch, but keeping in touch just isn't enough.
I didn't forget about the one that mattered, and still does matter, just tried to erase him from my mind. Out of sight, out of mind? Been there, done that... doesn't work.
Festive season is amongst us yet again... don't be a stranger. Keep loving and most importantly keep living.
|20 Dec 2003||Felicia Having A Bad Scare Day||I just wrote to the guy of my dreams today. Though he is in a strainful marriage, and having it easy living in a marriage of convenience... it disturbs me. We have so much in common, but I am afraid to see him for fear of appearing in the show "Cheaters".
I could just imagine getting caught by his wife which is more scarier. But then, I know that it would be the easiest way to get myself killed.
The closest remedy to suicide, people is indeed jealousy!
|20 Dec 2003||Chrissy||give them good tasting pills and tell them its candy|
|20 Dec 2003||billy the freak||wow, i am very impressed with all of you, your writing of course. i finally got time to read some of the posts. mouchette, you're looking beautiful as always. chris, you are absolutely right. this is a safe place where you can express yourself, in many ways. some people come in here and just babble about nothing but they feel better when they're done, some people come in here and scream about how they want to hang their neck up and never come back. makes wonder if they might be hanging from a ceiling beam somewhere. you got people who want to give their best advice and hope they can save a life. then you got the ones who want to use it as a creative outlet like myself. i personally feel that's what makes this interesting. i was here from the beginning and right now this piece of art is taking a wonderful shape. be safe and have a happy holiday season.
lucy, have a wonderful christmas darling!!!
|20 Dec 2003||Neil_y2n||First of all, I'm just 16 years old.. I'ts really hard living for me. I really ask God lots of questions. I just get too depressed when things aren't going my way. I know I should just think of myself but sometimes I just don't accept the things happening. Specially when I am in love or "LOVESICK" in that matter. I just think about this girl so much. Like she's the only reason I'm alive right now. Dec. 3 2003, I told her my feelings for her. But she said we were just too young to fall in love.. That really broke my heart that day. I couldn't help but wonder that I'm still alive up to today. I already planned to kill myself that night. It's maybe God who doesn't want me to die yet. And even I wanted to kill myself, I just couldn't lift my arms to stab myself with a knife. I'm just really scared of getting hurt. I wish I could cry for all the things I feel. But if you look at me, I'm a really a tough guy and wasn't really built to cry. That's what I hate cause if I feel depressed, it all goes to my heart. I just can't cry to let it all out. It's really hard.. Don't forget me people when I'm gone... Cause I WON'T forget you! Peace out..|
|20 Dec 2003||naomi mikamura's goodbye...||sorry ive been glone... ive been in a koma for i while...? i dont remember anything exept this site and a few other shity memories ill forget anyway... it would appear i was hit by a car or truck i cant remember... i do know i was commiting suicide though... now ill pickup where i left off...??? youll never see me again... goodbye everyone...........|
|20 Dec 2003||Chris||I know you've been waiting for a continuation of 9th December's post. So here it comes...
Anyway, the potatoes (yeah, you remember I was boiling potatoes) were done. I got off bed which juttted out of a double-doored closet and went into the coffin-sized kitchen, 'kitchenette' was the euphemism used on the For Rent sign. I grabbed the handle of the pan in a hot pad, held the lid loosely over the top and poured the hot water into the sink, devastating as I did a long column of ants marching over the porcelain on their way to the cupboard. Then I let the potatoes roll and bump out onto my plate, four dead boiled potatoes. I took them into the other room and sat down on the edge of the bed to eat.
There was one window in the room and the raspberry-coloured walls added to the gloom. As I put forkfuls of potato in my mouth and they formed a metallic-tasting mucilage, I told myself I had to learn to cook. I was a long way from the quite good food you eat in average restaurants, let alone the posh ones. Maybe I could check out a cookbook from the library. I had lots of time to learn to cook...
I began to have the idea I didn't know what I was. It seemed I had, once, but apparently I had thought I was what I was doing. That had been all right when I had been a boy who was always happy, a dreamer who dreamed about love and changing the world into a better place, a good boy who studied and worked hard at school, a boy who made people laugh with him instead of at him and a boy who had an enthusiasm for life in general, California style bon vivant. But to apply the same standard now to the 'all dreams shattered', loveless, non-enthusiastic approach, miserable creature lying on a bed at noon in a cheap room, lunching on boiled potatoes, that called for a conclusion about myself that I didn't want to make.
Trying to see myself from the point of view of other people didn't help. I barely know other people and they all seem stupidly the same. And still I couldn't feel the guilt of anything I've done in life and I still couldn't understand why people always laugh at me or say stupid things about me in hushed tones. None of the things I thought of helped. I could really only concentrate on what lay immediately before me, the problems of studying and eating. However memory helped by hurting. Memory brought pain which obscured necessity. Love hadn't left me, only the people I had loved had. So my friends and my imaginary girlfriend remained to dart into my thoughts when I was at my most unprotected, remained to confuse my focus on survival.
It worked the other way round too, the need of surviving distorted my love. As now, lying back on the bed with my hand over my eyes, disgusted, depressed, breathing only because I had no choice, my imagination gave me my imaginary girlfriend and then mocked what I had been given. With the image of this 'girlfriend' came the thought that I had ommitted a noise in my catalogue of sounds, the trickling toilet in the bathroom. And as if that wasn't enough it had to be degraded even more. A girlfriend, and longing for a girlfriend, and a popular tune, a trickling toilet, a tune twisted into a parody for self-humiliation, the connections rushed into my mind, I had to admit the thought belonged to me, 'a trickling toilet in the next apartment, those stumbling words...' couldn't be what my heart meant!
I fixed my eyes on the raspberry ceiling. It was too ugly a hue to create an atmosphere of sentimentality, and the light bulb with its flowered cloth skirt had its own dime-store harshness. With a kind of relief I managed to fasten my mind on these things. The blotchy paint, the forty-watt bulb, and the skirt, handmade with a dirty, rough touch to it. These things told me where I was, told me I was Chris in a cheap room with lots of shit to study and work at and no better idea of what to do than lie on my back on a metal bed and examine the ceiling. I reached for a newspaper lying nearby and stared to read an article before I realised I had made a decision to stop wasting my time and work. But what could I do? How could I catch up with the rest? How was I to be as good as, or even better than the rest of the people who have been working their nuts off all year round? But then I realised, it didn't really matter what it was, I just knew that I had to do something, to move on in life, so maybe one day I could earn some proper money, to prove myself that I could do that much (because even if painfully, school and work are the only things going for me in life, so if I even fail in that, I'm pretty fucked!) So from today, I swear I'm gonna do more than just stare around and waste my time!
See ya slavin' your nuts off!
|19 Dec 2003||Mauvais2Dan||Yea, it seems like that is a problem. School, a job, or get kicked out. Simple thing would be school right? Ur 17 about like me. It isn't that bad. Most you'd have is what... a year maybe a year and half. Do correspondance to make up missed work. That way you can get out earlier and get you credits quicker. But if you actually like to work (and to me it seems as though you don't) then just get a job. I'm sure Arbys or McDonalds would hire you. They hire anyone... or maybe that's just around here. But you need to do something. By not doing anything you'll be out of the house... then what? a Slower suicide. You said you didn't want to hurt the ones who love you. So don't. Sorry if it sounds rude but: grow up! Get a job or get your ass back in school! And if things don't work out. Talk to me ok? You have my e-mail now. Best of luck.|
|19 Dec 2003||Leslie||Suffocate in a plastic bag without a warning label|
|19 Dec 2003||Dan||Well I'm not 13 or under I am actually 17 no job and have until january to get a job or get back in school or be kicked out of my mother's house. I screwed up big time by missing a lot of school and falling behind on many things and don't really know what to do now. If I get kicked out it's pretty much over I have nowhere to go and nothing to own. I have been dependent on others so much of my life and it really sux. Living with my mother has been great and I got a great computer and lots of games which I spend most my time playing. I have no problem at all going to sleep and saying I'll worry about it later but now it's piled up so bad I can't do that anymore. I used to consider suicide a few months ago when I started getting picked on in school but never actually did it, I guess I used it as an excuse not to really do anything with my life, thinking well who cares I can just kill myself. At times I thought it was funny and at times I couldn't think of a good way to do it. I hate pain and didn't want to hurt the ones that actually loved me and cared for me. I feel as though I owe my mother so much but don't have anything to offer. I'm confused and look down on myself a lot trying not to look to others even though I know I am. I did it to myself and can accept that. I know my problems aren't near as serious as others but I don't know what to do anymore.
I'll make another post later on more of the things I feel and am thinking but right now I just can't focus on them enough. I'm not sure what I'm looking to gain by posting this, if it's attention or what I really don't know, I don't even know the point but I figure I'd post and see what others say.
Thx for reading if ya did
|18 Dec 2003||ADLLLLLLLLLLLL||I dunno bout the 13 thing, but overdosing is great, take at least 30,35 pills of whatever.|
|18 Dec 2003||Bereavement||Under 13, huh? Well, your bones are probably really soft and easy to brake. Smoke up, drink up, and walk alone late at night picking fights. Almost guaranteed to get your skull smashed in. If not, OD seems a semi-popular trick; just down a couple with a ruby beverage, and you'll fall down the rabbit hole faster than you thought. Best of all, the most toxi things are found harmlessly beneath the sink. Just make sure you understand what it is you're doing.|
|18 Dec 2003||gonzalo vera mardel||i think that i f you are looking for death any way is effective but if you are looking for an artistic way to kill yourself, then it is another situation, you got to be more specific|
|17 Dec 2003||Felicia Ticked at the Music Industry||THIS IS TO THE MUSIC INDUSTRY INFLUENCE
I've found that there are many teenagers entering this website. The fact that I am old, I'm still young at heart, I am old when it comes to computerized or some wannabe folklore rock or rap that's gone bad. Criminy though, please don't get me wrong, but it seems the music I hear on the radio is getting worst. And....the lyrics of suicide along with illicit sex incantations are enormous. Basically, you're starting to hear the word "Fuck" all the time and the sounds of human moaning. Its like Led Zeppelin or Jim Morrison on acid, a million times over. I mean GOD FORBID! You skater boys, no offense sweeties--please note that I love humankind's well being, blast them earphones so damn loud, it's enough to give me a headache in a six feet distance or whatever.
In a nutshell, music nowadays, will make anybody.... just anybody want to commit suicide!
Do I make myself clear?
If I were you, please lower the volume, limit the negative music to positive lyrics, and read a book or go outside, surf skate, have sex, without the music blasting those freakin profanities, within a 6-mile radius.
And you damn top head music promoters condone it! What's the matter with you! If you guys wonder why kids become worst is "BECAUSE (YOU FREAKING ) LET THEM HEAR THEM!!! And now that this is the only music playing nowadays because you ALLOW it, the kids have come accustomed to it, and I have to hear it at work against my will!!!! Don't you know that if you keep doing this, all teens or kids will grow up to only "CUSS, FIGHT, AND BREED!!!" What kind of President will we have in the future YES .Osama Bin Laden, that BASTARD, will seem like a saint for goodness sake.
GOD! Even American Idol won't condone it. Simon, though everybody says he's asshole, it absolutely right on the nose! If these so called Musicians were to perform in front of Simon, he would say,
"That was ABSOLUTELY horrible!!!!!!"
For Christmas, I am going to buy all you music top head honchos, a American Idol Simon doll, set a spell on it to say insults, and it can haunt you like Linda Blair from the Exorcist!
|17 Dec 2003||take that bitch||grrrr. i fucking hate children. i want to kill them all except for the cute ones
hey i'm new, fuck, and um yeah. so help, i wanna kill myself. badly. or at least hurt myself. slitting your wrists suck. and is painful, and slow. i tried to do it in some tub, but my dad found me. motherfucker i wanna kill him.
the reason though is that i'm in love. ooh love. but he's an asshole though but i can't just brush it off you know, and he's the only thing i ever had like a whatchallcallit, something. grrr. i mean it's pathetic killing yourself out of some stupid guy, but still you don't understand.
|17 Dec 2003||Erica||I have been depressed for five years now. i know that suicide is a western luxury, but sometimes i just wish there was no more tomorrow to worry about. Today has been bad, i have been crying all day, i know that i am probably being stupid as there are things in my life to look forward to. i would starve myself to death, but i am not allowed, i have been anorexic for the same five years and my parents admit me into hospitals when ever i stop eating. having to eat regularly and maintaining a normal weight is hell, on top of that i am depressed and some days can only manage to wake up, let alone function. i do want to die, but i also desperately want to live. what can i say, don't give up y'all, happiness is an illusion, i never believed in it and i never will. it is the trying that they call happiness, trying to stay sane and looking after others, that is a form of 'happiness'.|
|16 Dec 2003||billy the freak||hello my friends. if you liked my latest post and fiend for more like a junky on drugs you may curb your craving by checking out my earlier post in mouchettes favorites archive found exclusively @mouchette.org. and please email me at my new adress. i love feedback and will responde to all.
have a good day.
|16 Dec 2003||billy the freak||:hey there looking at me, what it is you see. what is it about you that i adore? try to find some words i can use. don't got the courage to come up to you. my chances are looking a bit grey. i'm staring across the room. are you leaving soon? i just need a little time. oh no it happened again walked away with her boyfriend maybe we'll meet again someday... someday...
i found myself in a bar room with my best friend searching for something. cigarette smoke loomed in air and made everyone look fuzzy through its transparent wisps of death. the smell of alcohol was bitter, the taste was sweet. i found it.
she was dancing by the juke box. the light shining off her soft milky skin made her look heavenly... like some sort of fallen angel. i imagined two bloody stumps where her wing should have been and was insanely aroused. when i felt the twitch below my belt i decided to order another drink.
"bartender... a double of rum and a beer to chase them down." he assured me that he got my order by repeating it back to me using different words.
"a twin pirate boiler maker coming right up." i gave him a quick nod and pat my friend's shoulder to get his attention.
"hey, look over there by the juke box... my angel." he looked over by the juke box then back at me.
"she's alright... i guess." i was outraged by his response.
"she's alright... you guess." i mocked him in a unpleasent tone. "man, she looks like heather gram."
"yeah, a skinny heather gram" he said, matter of factly.
"dude, she's not skinny!" i snapped at him.
"you're right, she's not skinny." he said with with a smile. "she's anorexic."
"fuck you asshole, you don't know what your talking about. she is beautiful and i'm going to go talk to her" i said, just about spitting in his face.
"alright man, you know i was just goofing around". my buddy jay always has jokes, and he knows me better then anyone. that's why i love him. "if you're going to go over there, you need to calm down and think of something to say, or you're just going to choke up again."
he was absolutely right. what was i going to say? i have a bad problem with my words slipping out my mouth and falling to the floor. it is embarrassing when i got to pick them up. i shot down my rum and drank my beer, then it hit me. i will simply tell her she looks like heather gram.
i got up and took off in the direction of the juke box. my heart started thumping. i passed the pool tables. my head started spinning and instead of going straight i turned left and headed right into the bathroom into the stall onto my knees and puked. i insantly felt better and figured i would relieve my bladder while i was in there.
i walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror. i looked horrible. i washed my face and rinced out my mouth the best i could. i choked and this time i didn't even get to talk to her. i felt pathetic. i looked in the mirror one last time. i siked myself up the best i could, because i wasn't going down without a fight. i told myself... i told myself i could do this.
i came out the bathroom with my head high and my intentions set, but something was wrong. i couldn't find my angel. i walked over to the bar where my friend was.
"I saw your little detour there partner."he said with his glass held to his mouth.
"where did she go?" i asked him in a low embarassed tone.
"her old man came in and told her it was time to go. you wouldn't have got her anyway."
i sat down, ordered a drink and blew air from the deepest part of my lungs. when jay said. "let's get a burger."
"yeah" i said, "a hamburger sounds good right now."