#suicidal ideation Tumblr posts

  • queerbipolarpoetry
    18.04.2021 - 16 hours ago

    sometimes when i feel suicidal i look at the prettiest color in my room and ask myself: what if this was the last time you saw that color? I know it sounds stupid but as a chronically suicidal person it helps a lot!

    I hope this helps others with SI. It’s a skill that has gotten me through a lot of hard moments. if you want more tips like this, let me know!

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  • leosmeditations
    18.04.2021 - 19 hours ago

    On the Subject of Bleeding (tw)

    Did you know that a disposable razor Is no match for a humble pair of scissors? Bend the plastic, snap it, get the blades out The blood will flow quite heavily tonight

    Did you know that they still call me ugly? I’m an outcast, a weirdo and a freak I bought a couple of disposable razors The blood will flow quite heavily tonight

    It’s been a while since then. I have friends now They helped me. We threw all my blades away But still, inside my mind, the blood is flowing It’s an image that will never truly fade

    Did you know that blood is an addiction? We crave seeing it flow, so sickly sweet And though I look fine to you, I’m still dreaming of the wounds The blood still flows quite heavily in my mind

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  • slimy-eye
    18.04.2021 - 1 day ago

    Yeah I’ll take a uhhhh midlife crisis at 10:30 at night please, with a side of suicidal ideation and an excedrin overdose because of chronic pain, thanks.

    In all seriousness, tonight sucks ass. Sorry I haven’t posted much today.

    #how does one do trigger warnings on tumblr #suicidal ideation#overdose
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  • sleazyschizoid
    17.04.2021 - 1 day ago

    went into the sub looking for what other schizoids do for work and first thing there was this heart-wrenching rant... 

    if you're a very young schizoid (under 25) I fucking promise you that it never goes away or gets any better. 

    we’re not like antisocials who tend to mellow with time. in our case, symptoms just get worse. Isolation. Think about it for a minute. You spend your whole life being an island, and in your later years there’s nobody around you. 

    Any friend you might’ve made has got their own family: grandchildren who visit for Thanksgiving. 

    To you it’s just another day...

    If you’re stubborn now imagine when you’re old: so set in your ways, unwilling to meet new people or learn different ways of doing things. Becoming one of those loathsome “if it’s not broken why fix it?” motherfuckers.

    Of course, this is all sounding very pessimistic. 

    Personally I’m not a pessimist. I am just very, very negative. And tho I see both the pros and cons of a situation, I often give more weight to the pros, cause my feelings about such notions are so fucking meh that if something turns out inconvenient then I’d just shrug it off. And if it turns out convenient then good my guy, good... you know? 

    Or maybe it’s cause I have ASPD traits. And I’m very impulsive. Whatever the reason: I’m not a pessimist. 

    I don’t believe recovery is possible in every case. For one, it might not be possible for me anymore.

    But yeah, not “caring” enough to kill yourself? Been there. Tho it’s not about caring for me: it’s about desperation. And I’ve been desperate enough.

    Right now I’m suicidal, but not depressed. It’s the kind of ideation that can end my life simply cause I’m too fucked up and it makes sense then. I know there must be thousands of suicides that happened under the influence.

    It doesn’t go away nor usually get better: doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try everything before you finally say fuck it.

    Everyone’s got an answer or some word of advice. I’d say stay off drugs if you’re dealing with suicidal ideation. I mean that’s what I tell myself but I never fucking listen. I like drinking. I like blow. I like dying. As for life, I can take it or leave it. It’s not my call to say when, but knowing how definitely helps.

    I’m always fucking ready.

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  • blindedbythedarkness
    16.04.2021 - 2 days ago


    We need to talk about what you did. About the fact you took your own life. I've been waiting for the perfect moment ever since that day to talk about it, but I don't think it's every gonna come. Right now, I'm as ready as I'll ever be and my need to say these things is growing. It's been tugging me towards this conversation for months now.

    So, Josh, let's face it head on. You killed yourself. You threw yourself off that walkway with the sole intent to end your life, and you succeeded, albeit with it a short delay. I just want to make it clear, right now, that I don't blame you for what you did. However, that doesn't mean I don't get angry sometimes.

    I wish I knew why you did it. I wish I knew exactly what was running through your head in the weeks, days, hours beforehand. I suppose I can imagine a lot of it, though. I don't think much of it would shock me, I suppose I just wish I'd known so in some Other Life I could have talked to you about every one of those thoughts. I guess on a wider scale too, I have some ideas about what caused your depression and kept it going strong. The things you told us about your upbringing and family would certainly seemed to play a big part in the value you saw in yourself. The lack of support from uni probably made your future options seem very bleak indeed. But the exact reasons are probably far more complex and intertwined and have gone with you to your grave.

    What I really wish I knew is what happened that day. I'm not on a witch hunt, but the story I've heard makes it sound as though there were one thousand, tiny, missed opportunities to stop you. What I know is that you had an exam that day, an exam you hadn't revised for. In the middle of that exam you had one of your strange fainting fits. I'm not sure if you continued the exam after that, but it can probably be assumed that the rest didn't go well, even if the first half had done. After that, you took yourself up to the fifth floor of the maths and stats building; you pushed a chair up against the barrier and you wrote your brief, final message to the world on your hand. Then, at around 11:05am that morning, you climbed over the barrier and let go. The rest, as they say, is history.

    I lost count of the number of times we told you to go to the doctor about those fainting spells. "If there's something wrong with me, I'd rather not know", you'd say. Then you'd follow it up with a story about how your dad had gone decades without a GP visit. We suggested to B one time that she should withhold sex until you agreed, but she just laughed that she couldn't wait that long. Those fainting spells were strange things. I remember you having one at the top of the stairs once. You were lying there, eyes open, but unable to speak or move. I remember feebly trying to maneuver you into the recovery position, unsure of what else I could do and feeling helpless as I stood over your body. Looking back, I don't think you were fainting. I think they were seizures, likely caused by the extreme stress you were under. I didn't know that was possible at the time, but it seems the signs you weren't coping were staring us in the face.

    With this in mind, it makes sense this would happen in the middle of an exam you hadn't revised for. But that also makes me question your state of mind after it happened. The stress alone would probably warp your thinking, and if it was a seizure you had, you brain would have been even more fried. I'm not trying to minimize what you did or imply that you didn't mean it. I fully believe that you wanted to die. But the method you used implies a snap decision as opposed to a planned approach. A moment of weakness in a lifetime of fighting your own brain. It wasn't your fault, you fought so fucking hard for so long. But somehow it breaks my heart more to think it was a spur of the moment decision, potentially added to by a fried brain. You wanted to die, but the lack of plan makes me think a small part of your heart wasn't in it. In another life you could have got past that moment, yet in this reality that part of you was never allowed to grow and flourish. Your poor, tired brain had a moment of weakness and dragged your body down with it, permanently.

    I have questions about the whole thing that I'll probably never know the answers to. For example, I wonder what the fuck you were doing alone after becoming unconscious in an exam? People were obviously aware it happened, otherwise we would never have been told. And yet you were just allowed to wander off alone soon after. Did someone try to help and you lied and told them you were fine? Is there someone out there forever blaming themself for believing that you were okay? Or did no one give a fuck? Were they all too self absorbed for your wellbeing to truly matter to them? Did staff stop caring as soon as the exam ended and they were off the clock? Just how did you end up alone, suicidal, five stories high right after publicly collapsing, Josh? I wish to God I knew.

    I have other questions too, of course. More general ones that you could probably guess. Like, what stopped you talking to us? Why did you choose to jump instead of sending me a text? What was your last thought? Were you in any pain as you died? Who was the last person to see you properly alive? Did you think of us, of me, before you did it? And is there any reality in which I could have stopped you?

    Truth be told, Josh, if I had another chance at that day I still wouldn't know how to change things. Of course I would have tried harder to talk to you about how you were feeling, but I still wouldn't know exactly what to say. Most of all, it seems, you were afraid of failing uni and nothing I could have said would have changed that. Sure, I would much rather have a living uni-dropout friend than a dead one who never technically failed. But it wasn't about what I was okay with, it was about how you felt and the million reasons you felt that way. Simply put, if I could do that day again, I feel like I would need to be by your side for the entire duration to change the outcome. And even then, I would be afraid what the next day would bring.

    You were in a terrible fucking place, Josh. I fully understand that. I mean, I will never know the details of your personal mental nightmare, but having lived my own and come close to ending it myself, I feel like I can say I get it. Even now, on bad days, I think of you and just think "I get it." Your depression, a severe and chronic condition, killed you. Just like cancer and strokes and heart attacks kill. It hijacked your brain and the control of your body, just as cancer cells invade and blood clots starve the brain of oxygen. You had just as much choice in the matter as patients of any physical illness. I will never blame you Josh, I promise. It was never your fault.

    But, like I say, that doesn't mean I don't get fucking angry. When it first happened the anger was constant and it took all my energy just to stop it boiling over. Now, it comes and goes. I feel angry that you did it. Despite all I know, the part of my brain that reacts impulsively wants to scream that "you're a fucking idiot!", "you're so selfish!" and "how the fuck could you do this to us?!". Of course, when I think about it more I remember that none of that is true. You just wanted to end the pain, you never intended to cause ours. But I have to be honest that those thoughts do always creep back in. It's very easy to be angry that you chose the solution that would never allow it all to get better. It's so permanent, Josh. It's so horribly, painfully permanent.

    I just wish I could go back in time, to way before the day you died, and plant the seeds for you to think it okay to talk to friends. To think it okay to drop out of uni. To think it okay to ask for help. I wish so badly I could help the Josh you were before I even met you.

    Thank you for letting me finally get this off my chest, Josh. Fuck, I had been holding onto that for so long. So fucking long.

    I love and miss you so, so much.


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  • sleazyschizoid
    16.04.2021 - 2 days ago

    there’s no point

    still have not found a therapist i even like.

    can’t trust.

    haven’t had a drink in almost a week: im always angry lately.

    i’m off any medication, except cough syrup.

    my rib’s fine now, but still get pleurisy.

    i’m just tired. 

    i haven’t heard my own voice in a couple days, except when i growl or shout at whatever is malfunctioning. 

    i should be shouting at my fucking brain.

    i’m having my last appointment with the second doctor soon. 

    have to grab some gig soon too, but i can’t even think straight before i clean up. and i don’t feel like doing it. 

    after two days of annoying pain i can move and lift and whatever, but i dont fucking wanna do it. it’s taking me days to clean up my place.

    it’s not that it’s filthy, i just got a lot of shit to throw out and put away (all those winter clothes and linens have to go into storage. it’s warmer than last year this spring). 

    and i do it slowly cause if i overexert myself my rib’s gonna fucking bother me again.

    i keep going over this thought in my mind: disappear.

    it’s not the gods: it’s me. I’ve heard this mf before. 

    isn’t it easier to delete your own contact info than it is to go deleting them all one by one?

    i dont mind it, but i kinda wanna change my name now. 

    i dont want anything you gave me anymore.

    how do i tell you that it’s not gonna stop?

    there’s no end to it. and i’m so done my guy.

    used to think: i’m glad i didn’t shoot myself at 14, cause at 21 i got to make love to you.

    or…. I’m glad i didn’t shoot myself at 24, cause at 29 i got to see him 

    and i asked over and over, to anyone: what is there after 30? 

    and there’s never been anything for me, 

    before or after.

    if i never got to meet you,

    touch you,

    hear you

    so what?

    #done#tired#suicidal ideation#headache #life's a permanent headache lately #sleazyschizoid#recovering bastard#log #need to get well enough to workout #or fuck someone soon #whatever#recovery#dry drunk
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  • dawning-games
    15.04.2021 - 3 days ago

    I received both good and bad news today, so I would like to make even a brief post saying that if any of you are feeling depressed or trapped or scared and contemplating suicide, to please remember that you are so loved and so important. Joy may be fleeting but so is pain- what you are going through right now won't last forever, this I can promise. I am grateful that you are here with me


    #suicide#suicidal ideation #based on how i was last tube this go round happened i will be radio silent then posting a million things so i will be around in some fashion
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  • insidedyingim
    15.04.2021 - 4 days ago

    I deserve better than how you treat me. Everyone sees it but you. All of my friends tell me you're bullshitting me. Using me. Taking me for granted. But I just accept it because my self esteem is so low I think it's okay for you to treat me like this. You want me to love on you and dote on you and comfort you and cuddle you yet you don't want to be with me. You make absolute nonsensical reasons for it. Then expect me to be cool with it and still give you the aspects of a relationship you want while I sit here and fucking suffer. Wonder what you'll think when I'm dead. Will you have regrets then?

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  • im-0-kay
    15.04.2021 - 4 days ago

    Today on having a panic attack and managing to snap yourself out of it by promising to try to kill yourself... Cuz hay realistically it takes longer than a couple hours for them to take you to the police or a hospital cuz your rural as fuck sooooo just off yourself tonight and your fine...

    #nothing ever fucking works so no need to get all panicy at me #suicidal ideation#tw sucide #tw panic attack
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  • feraljaskier
    14.04.2021 - 4 days ago

    super angsty Aiden headcanon ahead. tw suicidal ideation!!!

    I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole canon of Aiden being dead and like. What if he wasn’t? What if he was captured and tortured mercilessly for hmm, we’ll say a few months at least, before he finds a way to escape. And he’s back on the road, desperately trying to find Lambert, but keeps hearing rumors that Lambert is gone. Even though he’s a witcher and can withstand a fair amount of trauma, the torture still leaves him with grade a ptsd, nightmares that keep him awake for weeks on end, slowly loosing his mind, flashbacks that leave him jumpy and paranoid. He spends his coin almost exclusively on alcohol to numb the pain but it’s never enough. And one day he buys a little vial of poison so strong it could kill a witcher, and just. keeps it. holds onto it for the day when everything finally becomes too much.

    Except he does end up running into Lambert eventually, and everything should be different but it isn’t. Having Lambert by his side is incentive not to drink the poison but he still wants to. Some days it’s all he can think about. Lambert eventually finds the vial and kinda freaks out because he mistakenly thinks Aiden is using it for an assassination contract and “I thought you said you were done with that part of your life??” and Aiden doesn’t want to admit that the poison was meant for himself but he can’t lie, not to Lambert, and I have no idea how this story ends but I think it would be an interesting (and painful) narrative to explore.

    #Aiden #Aiden the witcher #suicidal ideation
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  • elopedwiththestars
    14.04.2021 - 4 days ago

    i’m struggling so fucking hard. every day is a struggle. it doesn’t matter how much or little sleep i get, how much water i drink or caffeine i avoid. i want to die. i want RELIEF.

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  • tifs-against-terfs
    14.04.2021 - 5 days ago

    experiencing s//icid//l ideation, send nice asks

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  • fagottinis
    14.04.2021 - 5 days ago


    #i think physical affection for me personally is so. shallow #like i get hugs all in one day or hour or whatever #and then go back to being alone for so long #its like that bit of physical relief. the feeling that maybe someone does love me #that feeling doesnt even matter #and it goes right back to being alone #if i had just not been born then i wouldnt have had to worry about ppl needing me alive now #granted if i was gone then i wouldnt have to worry about my responsibility to others anyway #whatever i just want to not be here #arthur does dumb shit #dont listen to me #tw depressing stuff #tw#trigger warning#suicidal ideation
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  • i-dont-feel-like-im-me-anymore
    13.04.2021 - 5 days ago

    Wondering why I ever let myself get this old.

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  • traumatrash
    13.04.2021 - 5 days ago

    things aren't always going to be this bad. there are going to be days I'm happy that I didn't miss one day. I'm going to sit in the sunlight and feel happy I'm alive someday

    all I have to do right now is live to see that

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  • katjohnadams
    13.04.2021 - 5 days ago

    hey luvs some personal shit below the cut keep scrolling if that’s not your jam, no hate. It’s mental health shit and look, I definitely understand that being just not what you’re here for or Too Much™ right now

    so here’s the deal, my posting is gonna be... mostly queued with some days I post a lot because I am just... not gonna consistently be here. I got a lot of workin on me to do. I hurt my husband and royally fucked up and I gotta own that. Why? well, fuck because my mental health has spiraled horrifically out of control since the accident sept 2019, but that’s no excuse. I had so many people who love and would have supported me and helped me help myself and I just... hid inside my head and presented myself like everything was fine.

    but inside since I rolled that van, I’ve been growing more and more certain I’m actually dead. That I died there and eventually everyone will wake up and realize I’m actually gone and I’ll finally be able to rest. Or that I survived but only because Some Power fucked up and didn’t take me when I was supposed to go ala Miracle Day and eventually death will catch back up and I can just stop.

    and it’s bad, because that’s what I want. I want it to be over with.

    But I know, having years of experience with mental health fun, that this isn’t rational. And I was so used to knowing being enough but it isn’t and I have been getting desperately in need of help. Probably honestly since before the pandemic but... I am so used to being the bad bitch that can handle anything.

    and I am just... not.

    so I’m getting help. I’m trying. pain in the ass right now. Hell, I’m even willing to take anti-psychotics if that’ll help. I just don’t want to feel like this anymore because it is... miserable.

    I don’t want sympathy or “it’s not your fault” like, luvs, it 100% is but also I am doing what I can to fix it. I’m not the only guilty party here, either, but like, I can only fix me. I can only confront my own fuckin trauma. I don’t want to, but I gotta. Can’t go around saying shit and not sticking to it. I used to be so much stronger than I’ve become. I know it doesn’t seem like it from the outside but I have becomes small and afraid and weak as fuck.

    and that’s gotta fuckin change.

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  • insidedyingim
    13.04.2021 - 6 days ago

    I would do pretty much anything to be thin. Anything to not look like me. Anything to not be fat. Anything to feel happy in my body.

    Yet, I can't. Stop. Fucking. Eating.

    It's like a drug I can't let go no matter how badly I want to. It's the only thing that brings me comfort and happiness in this hellish nightmare I call life.

    Half of why I'm still alive is because if I kill myself I'll be fat for eternity. HELP.

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  • thruthefairydoor
    13.04.2021 - 6 days ago

    So this was the first time I had to check off the "suicidal thoughts" box when I went to the doctor and on the post-visit summary my physician now has me down as having "recurrent mild major depressive disorder with anxiety" and idk why but when I saw that I laughed 😂😂

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