still alive (barely)

[wanting2gopeacefully]

I'm derek, apathetic and chronically suicidal, disabled writer/game designer/director trying (for some reason) to still get last fate to a tangible state for once after years. using what i can which isn't much to hire what need to get it done. not even indie would want to fund (publish) or invest in me so this was all i was left to do, at least i have no-holds barred on on it all.
here's a few protos; characters/sprites are done, backgrounds, and monsters (current placeholder) are not.

I've already did+do journaling, ok. the game might as well be part of that as i inch closer to my inevitable end which is soon after some fasting.

yes I've already been through the rounds my whole life; after released:

tell them that ->
sent to psych ward ->
be abused, drugged with sedatives, assaulted, can't speak out about it without it being dismissed as "just a mental patient talking nonsense" -->>
get out -->>
still suicidal ->>
fake like i'm not so i don't burden/irritate others ->>
self harm ->>
suicidal ->
another ambulance/ER ->
-Subtalar Artheodesis ->
adds to suicidal ->
sent back to hospital ->
another ER/ambulance bill ->
get out psych ward again ->
still suicidal, now prescribed pills with plethora of side effects crazy high doses, dr/psychiatrists increases doses making it more easier to overdose ->
fake it again like everything's ok to not burden ->
Death.

my last therapist, ron, suggested i seek euthanasia, the best advice i could ask for, so i didn't need to see him anymore. but of course, that's not available, so i just found another method.

i have severe pain (trauma, emtion, etc.) dating back to the 2020 incident (alexander) - 2021 and before then, since then, and thereafter; it's always continued to go downwards. last fate doesn't change my suicidal ideation or frequent attempts, nothing does, at best LF represses it, the it comes back full force when i've done my part/waiting, or in a rut (cant hire, monthly restriction here). i have a new method that i'm saving for the day i simply had enough.

my doctors don't know what to do with me; they had to stop upping my doses because of the inverse effect it was having; i'm chronically suicidal no matter what treatment is forced (in the ward, etc.) on me, throughout my days i attempt, until i collapse from mental anguish and exhaustion. Why? Well when the writing was done and i needed try/find/wait to hire for other things i'm in a sort of stasis, since my side on the game is on that and publishing.

anyways, 7 years of talking about it yield nothing, only worsening slowly. i am chronically suicidal, burdening who just can't figure me out; trying to put yourself in my shoes is not near enough to comprehend the pain in actuality.

 

[kaetic]

I'm so sorry you're living this way.
I understand how chronic pain can push you in this direction, and how it makes you feel useless because it affects everything. Your work, your social life, any activities you enjoy take a back seat to dealing with the pain. I get how people probably treat you because they can't comprehend that it is impossible to push yourself through the pain. Even those that try to help and don't just assume that you're faking it to get out of work. Or the endless helpful suggestions, that are appreciated but don't actually help. In my case, I did have some relief from it though even during, and after dealing with this crap from 14 years of age to just last year (43 currently), and going through multiple incorrect diagnosis, I finally got real relief.
While I don't know your exact situation, and have never consciously attempted suicide, or been sent to a psych ward, so I can't imagine the kind of "treatment" you got while there, and even though it might just be words on a screen... Please know that you are not useless, you are deserving of relief, and you are not alone.

 

[wanting2gopeacefully]

I'm so sorry you're living this way.

Not anmore tonight

 

[kaetic]

Not anmore tonight

If you need to talk you can message me. I know you posted this a while ago, and It's not my place to tell you what to do or not do. But creating an account and announcing your intent, sounds like you might be unsure. Please talk to someone.

 

[wanting2gopeacefully]

this is a pro-life place; there is no place for me

 

[TheRealCallie]

this is a pro-life place; there is no place for me

I fully believe there is a place for everyone. Some just have more difficulty finding that place or are even living in denial and refuse to find their place (not saying that's you).


That said, I really don't understand how, living in the world we live in with massive amounts of technology and medical advancement, they are unable to take pain away from people like you. I know several people who deal with chronic pain on a daily basis and nothing works for them. One of the people is about to get surgery to try to help, but it's unclear if it will actually help or not.

 

[kaetic]

this is a pro-life place; there is no place for me

That's not what I meant, the choice is yours to make. I just hope you're certain, because you can't change your mind after.

Where do you live? The laws are different depending on the country.

 

[Hoarse Whisperer]

Chronic pain (internal and external) is extremely difficult to live with. Try to get past the idea that you're some kind of a burden on those around you because you aren't. I hope you find the peace you're looking for one way or another. If you want to talk about stuff I'm down to chat anytime.

 

[wanting2gopeacefully]

not everyone wants to live, simple as that. thats what pro-life is forcing to live, taking away autonomy and one's one selfish reason(s). it's no longer about the sufferer, but about the controller who refuses to comprehend the choice of an individual.
Constant assumptions everyone everyone stranger has someone in their lives, have families, is a certain way. i've seen it all, i've seen enough im more content being alone and unbothered to go whenever i please; others places just don't interest me anymore. reminded of that just now after all this time. but i can't delete my account when i click on it now

 

[TropicalStarfish]

Welcome to the forum. I've thought about it for a bit, and, I'm not quite sure what to say beyond that.

When I was still relatively young, I found a parable of sorts, that at the time, and continuing, has always been (for me) quite depressing, but quite profound. It goes something like the following. I'll tell it in a new way...




A man, having been committed to a sanitarium, locked up, and straight-jacketed, decided to bide his time by attempting astral projection. He didn't believe in such things, but, having nothing but time, figured, he may as well try anything. He tried and tried, and, no luck. After many days, and many nights, thinking, thinking, he grew exhausted. Exhausted of his thoughts, his situation, his circumstance, all of it. He was physically and mentally tired, but, for some unknown reason, couldn't sleep. Again, he went on like this, for many days, then weeks, etc.. And then one day, while sitting, tired, but also awake, awake, but barely so: he blinked his eyes closed for a moment and saw a tree. Shocked by what he saw, as clear as he could see the empty walls in front of him, he closed his eyes again, to make sure it wasn't some illusion of his exhausted mind; but, there was the tree, again. He opened his eyes again, then closed them, and again, there was the tree. And so he kept his eyes closed...

He examined his surroundings. He appeared to be in a slight clearing in some sort of jungle. The tree before him, he found, he could move closer towards, by thinking about it; and, as he did so, he noticed something or some one hanging from the tree. There was a man there, dressed in a white gown of sorts, with large flowing white pants. He looked like some kind of Hindu Yogi from a movie or something, and was hanging upside down from the tree. He moved closer towards the tree. Closer he moved, and still closer, till he could make out the mans face. He looked very peaceful, and his eyes were closed. Suddenly he opened them quickly, as if he knew he was being watched the whole time.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment," said the man hanging from the tree. "Is there something I can help you with?" The committed man was nonplussed, and didn't quite know what to say. "Well, come now; out with it," said the man.

"I...I...I don't know what to say," said the committed man.

"Well, go away and come back later then, I'm busy," said the man who looked like a Yogi.

"Wait."

"It is a specialty of mine, yes, waiting; but, I prefer to do it in solitude, so, quickly now, again. Out with it."

"Is this real?"

"I don't know, go ask a philosopher. Any other questions?"

"Are you some sort of Yogi or Guru?"

"I don't know, I suppose that's up to you. What do you think?"

"You look like one."

"Looks can be deceiving. Any other questions?"

"Why are you hanging from a tree and how is it I can be here, where I am, and see you, even though I'm somewhere else?"

"I like hanging from this tree. It's calming and conducive to my work. As to the other question, I can't be sure. Strange things can happen when you hang upside down, from a tree, for hours at a time in quiet contemplation and solitude. Any other questions?"

"If I open my eyes, will I be back where I was before? And if I go back, can I close them again, and return?"

"I don't know, but I'd prefer if you went somewhere else for a while rather than return here. As I said, I'm really kind of busy. One more question, then I'm going back to wherever it is I am."

He thought about it for a moment, then said, "Why are people like you revered as Gurus and Yogis, and people like me are locked away for being crazy?"

The Yogi looking man laughed a bit, and then his face grew a bit sorrowful, "The Yogi knows who not to talk to. Well now, it is my turn, I think, to ask you a question."

"Okay...," said the committed man.

"Am I a Yogi hanging from a tree? Or a Psychiatrist sneaking a nap in his office, at his day job?"

"I don't know," said the committed man.

"Neither do I,," said the Yogi looking man. He then closed his eyes and returned to hanging from the tree in quiet solitude.

The committed man opened his eyes, and was back in his cell. Then, for the first time in a while, he closed his eyes, saw nothing but the darkness behind his own eyelids, and slept. Days went by, and days turned into weeks; he slept a lot, and felt a sort of peaceful clarity in his solitude. After a few weeks, a Doctor came in and greeted him. The committed man, still in a sort of hazy doped up, peaceful clarity, said, "Hello Doctor, I think I'm ready to go home."

The Doctor said, "I can see that. Come into my office, and let's prepare the paperwork and a discharge plan." The committed man followed him down a few corridors to his office. And so as they went through the motions, dotted all the I's, and crossed all the T's, the committed man took notice of a few interesting odds and ends here and there, and noticed a guitar on a guitar stand in the corner. "Do you play?" asked the committed man.

"What? Oh the guitar! Yes, yes, well, not as much as I'd like to, but when I can, I do. And you?" asked the doctor.
"Why no. When I was younger, a bit, but, I never picked it up," replied the soon to be uncommitted man.
"Well it's never too late," said the Doctor. "At any rate, it seems everything is in order here. I've made a discharge plan for you; it's all strictly voluntary. I recommend you give it's direction a good honest try, in the beginning. If the shoes still don't fit after awhile, then who could blame you for moving to the beat of your own drum, right?"
"Or guitar," said the Man.
"Haha, or guitar," said the Doctor. "Maybe you've got something there."
"Thnx Doc."
"Thank-you," replied the Doctor. "Let's go collect your personals and get you out of here now." And so the doctor got up and motioned the man towards the door. On his way out, before exiting, he saw a painting on the door, with a large tree that looked like the one from his astral journey in the cell. It had an array of butterflies strung about it; and it had a quotation at the bottom that read:

“Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Soon I awakened, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.” ​

​

― Zhuangzi

---

...and some other quotes I've been gifted, once, by a wise friend:

"Nothing is permanent in this wicked world. Not even our troubles."
― Charles Chaplin

"Although the world is full of suffering it is also full of overcoming it."
― Helen Keller

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are scared with scars."
― Khalil Gibram

“People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. But the self is not something one finds. It is something one creates.”
― Thomas Szasz