20 years old. Don't feel like it though.
Living in good old Germany.
My name means bitterness in Hebrew.
Life has changed me.
I'm diagnosed with Depression & some comorbidities including an eating disorder. I nevertheless try to manage my life around that. Currently recovering.
Loving independence movies.
People might say I'm a little weird.
Changing the direction every day.
Need the creativity in my life like the air to breathe.
Writer & Photographer.
NCIS & Criminal Minds <3
“You’ll be on the list of the reasons why I’m dead.I know that it’s not fair, but I won’t be here to care."
I don’t care about anything. People will call me selfish.
“What are they gonna tell about me, when I’m dead?”, I’m asking myself.
“Do they remember any good things? Or maybe they won’t even care. That would make everything much easier."
My voice is shaking.
"Here are the letters. Here are the list of names. Bye."
One year ago I attempted suicide. Once again. It wasn’t the first time I was tired of life. One year ago I wrote this note and nobody cared. I wrote this note and knew I would probably never wake up again. 6 months ago one of my doctors at therapy told me that it was a wonder that I was still alive after all my suicide attempts. I don’t easily say that people didn’t care, because most of the time it isn’t true. If my friends would’ve known they would’ve cared. But I wrote this note, not my first one, and nobody cared. A year ago this was fatal. Today my friends care, but I’m still alone at night. And some nights I’m still afraid that nobody would stop me. I’m writing this to make people aware of the seriousness of such a situation. Suicide can be prevented most of the time. Don’t think you shouldn’t react because they’re doing this for “attention”. One year ago I attempted suicide. Once again. And nobody cared.
Sometimes I stop talking, because every single word would be too much. I get lost in music, listen to every single note. Sometimes I doesn’t talk for days. It’s easier like that. It’s a peaceful world. There is nothing left to say. Silence. I live in my own world. Not talking is so much easier. When the world becomes too loud. Too fast. I close my eyes. I listen. Maybe I begin to cry. Silently. But it’s better. Peaceful.
I think this just needs to be said. Thank you to those who supported me yesterday. Thank you for all the encouraging words. I went to the doctor today and he helped me. Even though I had another panic attack while I waited and broke out in tears when I met him. I was all sobbing, but he understood me. I’m taking antidepressants now, even though it was a long fight against them. But I need to stabilize my emotional situation, and my doctor is right about that. He gave me a few more free days and told me that I’ve been really strong in the past, even though I went through so much. He believes in me, and showed me where I can get immediate help. He also told me to take walks through the forest every time I feel like crying. I should enjoy the nature. And he couldn’t be more right about that.
So here’s my advice to the one’s who are struggling too: Even though you might be afraid of telling your doctor about your problems: Do it. He can help you & together you can find a solution for your recovery. Collect your courage and talk to someone. They’re here to help you <3
I know that one day can’t make up 364 other days where people don’t care. But raising awareness is always a good thing. No matter why it happens.
Let me tell you a short story about my past. The first time I thought about suicide I was only 9 or 10 years old. Not even able to understand the whole world, but already prepared to jump off my my window sill. Standing on it I thought about how I would die faster. Falling on my neck maybe. Not very nice thoughts for such a little girl, right? I couldn’t do it that day. My mum came in and so I stepped down my window sill. About 4 years later it happened again. Me past midnight, standing in the kitchen, a knife in my hand, ready to die. Should I stab it right into my heart? Is it even long enough? From what I’ve learned, yes. Or should I slice my veins? My mum would freak out. Only a few weeks later I took painkillers. 1,2,3,4. I can’t remember. I didn’t die. Over the last two years the suicidal thoughts never really left me. I overdose, starve myself, cut myself. I’m not proud. It’s a struggle. I can’t stand this life. Still not very nice thoughts, right? The truth is - my family doesn’t care. I know how it feels like to be alone with suicidal thoughts. No one should go through this.
The signs of suicidal thoughts aren’t always visible. You would wonder how good we are at faking a smile. How easy it is to say “I’m fine”, when in reality we’re not. There’s only one way to prevent suicide: Talking. So please keep on talking to your friends, family members, etc. if you see any signs of suicide. Talk to the ones you love. It saves lifes.