Life is an odd thing. I’m writing this while thinking about my death, how I could do it, whether I could really go through with it etc. However, I’m not upset about it. I’m not angry, I’m not any other negative emotion you can think of about it. I’m okay with it. I don’t know if it’ll happen, or when it’ll happen, but I’m okay with knowing that it’s an option. I feel pretty good that it’s an option actually.
You never know what you’ll get out of life. When I was younger, I never used to think about this kind of thing. I just.. did what I was told, I went along with what others wanted, there wasn’t much thought put into anything. Once I stopped going to school, around ~13 to 14 years old, things started to change. I was no longer going with what everyone else wanted. I stopped going to school by choice, I refused to go back. The reasons aren’t important, that’s just how things worked out. I spent the next ~8 to 10 years of my life inside. I would go out maybe one or two times a year, mainly to doctors appointments or things that were 100% necessary. I never went out just for the fun of it.
I had no real life friends at this point. My entire life was online. I used to think about if things were different, if I had kept going to school and lived a more “normal” life. Friends, a job, a partner, maybe even a family of my own one day. I won’t deny that I still would have liked to experience that, but I no longer think that’s something that’ll happen. but again, that isn’t said in a sad or upsetting way.
From there, I randomly stumbled upon someone who was, and still is, very special to me. Her name is Hollie. We started out as friends, in a very messed up friendship that was filled with lies. Although that’s a story for another time. We became very good friends, we were literally talking 6-8 hours everyday, sometimes more. Of course we had the occasional day where she’d be busy and we’d only talk 2 hours, but for the most part it was a very consistent thing. We met on a chat site, one that’s mainly known for being very sexualised. As such, we were both comfortable talking about that kind of thing with eachother too. For a while we even had a sort of “deal” about killing ourselves together. We figured that if we were to do it together it would be.. easier, more comforting I suppose.
Eventually we even got into a relationship. We met, spent almost 2 full months together in person. For me, everything in person was amazing. We did have issues, we argued, hell we even broke up a few times too. But just being there with her, spending time with her, being close to her, being able to cuddle or just lay next to eachother. It’s something I’ll always remember, it was the best summer of my life and I don’t doubt that it always will be.
Since then.. I came home. We broke up, for real this time. Our friendship no longer felt right, there’s a lot more to this than I want to go into right now, but it just didn’t work anymore. We’re no longer talking, and as much as I wish things were different I don’t think she’ll ever be a part of my life again. Right now is a very confusing time for me, I wake up and realise I’m alone. I feel awful, I wish that I could trade anything to go back to how things were. Even just as friends, the amazing friend she used to be for me, I’d do anything to get that back.
Then the day plays out. I realise that no matter how much I feel bad about it, she isn’t going to come back. Sitting here and bitching about it isn’t helping anything. I try to see things from a better point of view, while sure, she might be gone.. she changed my life. She gave me the best time I’ve ever had. She proved to me that people like her exist in the world. People who are so kind, caring, fun to be with, beautiful.. things I somewhat already knew, but they seemed so rare, they seemed like the type of person I’d never even be able to interact with, let alone be in a relationship with.
I admit I was lucky to find her, for her to want to speak to me, and especially for her to want to be in a relationship with me. But that did all happen. It’s something that’ll give me hope for the future.
I’ve attempted to kill myself before. I was around 19 or 20 years old, and funnily enough I had just started taking anti-depressants for the first time ever. Kind of ironic that something meant to stop you from feeling depressed is the very thing that caused me to go far enough to actually attempt it. The attempt itself isn’t what I care to talk about right now though, what I want to talk about is how I convinced myself that it was the right thing for me to do.
I’ve never been much of a religious person. I was brought up around religion, went to churches with my school at times. But I never really.. felt it. It wasn’t something I really believed in, it was just something that I learned about. I’ve always been curious what happens after you die, and I don’t have any more of an idea than anyone else does. We’re all more or less guessing, we’re believing something that was written in a book thousands of years ago, or we’re making our best guess based on the small amount of “evidence” we might have.
In reality.. There’s no way to know for sure, until it happens. For me, I convinced myself that reincarnation was real. I don’t want to get into why I believed this, because it’s based on basically no evidence, it’s not something that I’m attempting to get others to believe. You can believe whatever you’d like, that’s up to you. For me.. I feel happier thinking that reincarnation is real. Believing it was real is what made me feel happy about dying, I no longer thought that I’d just stop existing and there would be “darkness” forever. I thought I’d come back, as a different person. I’d get to experience life again, in a different way, with all new things.
For now, I’ll just say that reincarnation made me feel so much better because I’ve always felt like I was in the wrong body. To be able to think that I could wake up and be someone else, to live a different life and to maybe feel like I am who I should be, was an amazing thought.
This is what caused me to be selfish. I’ve wanted to die for a long time, but I’ve always held off on it because I have a family member who cares so much about me. I know that it’d almost certainly ruin that persons life. Obviously I survived my attempt, and I got to see what it could have done to them. I saw how upset they were, and that wasn’t even with me dead, that was just with me attempting it. Ever since then, I thought that I’d just wait until they died of natural causes for me to kill myself.
However now.. I feel selfish again. I feel like I’ve finally collected my thoughts on things, the confusion has faded. I have a new outlook on things. Life is all about different experiences for me, I’ve thought that for a long time. That was another reason I was so happy with the idea of reincarnation. I’d love to experience every possible lifestyle. I’m sure there would be millions (or I guess infinite if we’re being technical) of versions where I hate my life and where I have to deal with awful things.
But the way I see it.. I’m okay with that. At the time I’ll hate it, and if I could read this post at that time I’d likely entirely disagree with myself. However, that’s only a temporary feeling. When things are bad, you can let yourself regret so much, it’s difficult to remember all of the good times you’ve had or imagine having any others. Everyone has parts of their life where they enjoy themselves, and parts where they hate it entirely. It’s the reason rich and famous people can hate their lives. They’re used to having so much, in terms of money and fame, and it means so little to them. You might think that having $500,000,000 would make you happy, and temporarily it would, but you’d get used to it too. Eventually you’d realise that all of your issues and flaws still exist. Maybe the money could help you buy drugs, escorts or friends that help hide those issues, but they still exist and deep down you know that they do.
On the other hand, if you’re used to having nothing, then even a small change can make a big difference. If you’re used to having no friends, then just meeting one person and having a connection with them can mean everything. You get my point. I want to experience all of that, the good, the bad, everything inbetween. I hope that somehow I’ll eventually be able to recollect all of these experiences, all of these different lives, but that’s more of just a dream.
So in the end.. I don’t know if anyone will relate to this. If anyone will care. Hell, if anyone will even read it except the one person I send it to, and even they might not. I’m putting this out there because whenever I lose someone, I always want to know what’s going on in their life. I hope that they’re okay, that they’re doing what they want to, that they’ve found happiness or are on a path to finding it. I’m writing this so that if I do end up killing myself, it’ll be something that people who knew me can read. To get a small look into how I saw things, how I felt. To know that I wasn’t upset or angry, that I was okay with things going how they have. I might want to have experienced some of the other possible outcomes, like staying in school and having that “normal” life, or for things to have worked out with Hollie, but I don’t regret it anymore. I don’t regret those things not happening, things have turned out this way and that’s just how things are.
This is hopefully going to be more of.. both an intro and outro to my life. If I die, it’ll be the first thing people who knew me will read, so for them it’ll be sort of an outro. For anyone else who stumbles upon it, it hopefully sets up a small foundation for what my life is like, that I hope to build onto in the future. This is my first time really writing anything since I was in school, and I’ve always been pretty awful at it, so I apologise for how badly worded things might be and how the topics jump around a lot.
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