I found myself here today when, as I was using nail polish remover on my fingernails, I casually started to think about how it might taste and whether it might be a good way to end the pain. I don't think I would ever actually commit suicide - I fear death and don't really want to die. I just want to love living and be happy. But I often have these suicidal 'thoughts'. Like I sometimes imagine being hit by a bus so that the choice of whether to live or die is taken out of my hands. A freak accident that can happen to anyone is far easier for my family to live with than to think I would choose death above all else in my life.
I don't quite understand where this hatred for life has come from. I had a fairly good upbringing. I am in a stable job. Surrounded by family and friends that love me. No real 'trauma' to speak of.
Then of course comes the guilt and shame - and not being able to talk to anyone about how I feel because I am ashamed that I have far less to complain about than a lot of people. I should be grateful for the life that I have. And if there's things I don't like - I should just change them, right? But for some seemingly unknown reason I just don't know HOW to be happy.
I feel so lame even saying all of this.
Can anyone else relate?
Shared experiences of life, and the path that has led you to where you are.
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