suicide attempt survivors

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I survived that night...

I am a General surgeon in my last year of residency. I always had a feeling of not being enough, worthless within me. I always feel I am not good enough. Not because someone blames me by saying this, but this feeling comes from my inside. I have an extremely supportive family, but still I feel this way. I just had a break up. I am totally aware I sabotaged my relationship single handedly. And today this is over. I feel suicidal in a overwhelming number of times and this night is such a night.I hope I survive this night and wake up next day, alive.

#SuicideAttemptSurvivors

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The Perfect Storm Poem

Trigger Warning: This poem contains sensitive topics, dark imagery and graphic depictions of suicidal thoughts. Keep in mind, this is just a poem and not to be taken out of context. Unfortunately for others to hear, I do have a rather dark-toned voice when it comes to writing stories in a poetry format. See this as self-expression and a way to transmute pain into art. As I am already seeking professional help.

If anyone is sensitive to this topic, please do not read further than this message. Your mental health is more important than my art.

......

My arousal

Is it depart from this

God-forsaken planet

Permanently

Not tempted to look back

At the past mistakes

Filled with unfathomable regrets

How can I or anyone close forget?

The relationships

I have obliterated

And ended prematurely

Perhaps it would be

Sapient to fly off

The nearest cliff

To finally end the prolonged

Suffering once

And for all

Aspire to vanish

In the midst

Of a perfect storm

Or arrive at cosy

Setting that is warm

Who am I fooling?

I cannot live on

Like this

Spiralling into a

internal abyss

Inner peace

Shattered

Dreams and hopes

For the future

Battered

Into a million pieces

Before my eyes

As if my whole life

Have been a

Big fat lie

I often flirt with death

Through living in

A heedless manner

Who gives a toss

about a defective planner?

As I strolled

Through an eerie

Swamp

Appeared to be all in black

Absences of any hue

Colour it would lack

Descending into more

Intrusive thoughts

Then stumbled into

an invisible web

All caught up thus far

Accepting the entanglement

Just as peaceful

As a spa

Ironically….

Futile to break free

From my own shackles

Cannot saved through

my own insanity

Perplexed in the

Stygian and chilling swamp

Contemplating on

My life or future

In profound estrangement

And dread

Stream of tears

Began to shred

“Is this what I truly desire?”

I questioned

“Who am I leaving behind?”

If only I can

Rewrite the past or rewind.

#MentalHealth #Depression #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Loneliness #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #SuicidalThoughts #Anxiety #Selfcare #SocialAnxiety #MightyPoets #Neurodiversity #SuicidePrevention #Poetry

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#AnorexiaNervosa as my only possession in life of #EatingDisorders #traumacoping #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #PTSD

Since I was a child I went through horrible abuse, sexual, physical, emotional, bullying, financial, threatened to be killed by my father and it continued until my adulthood. I am at the moment in a shelter for victims of domestic violence because of my parents. Those who should be your closest one and are most tightly connected by blood did me so much harm that I am no longer living.

When I was 8 or 9 I started developing anorexia. My body was too fat to me. But it is never about food, it's about deep suffering.I was also undiagnosed autistic and when I was 12,13 I started being suicidal and started cutting soon. Actually I was cutting myself for some time when I was like 5,6 with my sibling-because of traumas and my autism.

At 14 I was first time sitting in children psychiatrist's office. I was controlled by my father and mother. I grew up in morbid physical surrounding. My siblings were severely abused for years. Yet nobody came to help, cps, police...

I faked being better, nobody knew for my anorexia, only later few persons from school knew.I was threatened by psychiatrist at that time to be send in basical asylum for children if I don't stop cutting. In the end I ended up in that hell just 2 years after and I have traumas from there. That place is closed permanently or temporary but closed. I started having symptoms of #PTSD as a child but how could anyone notice when my abusers were closest family members and parents. And my growing in cultish "family" trapped me even more to say things and have clear look on what they do to me and my siblings.

I asked for help for anorexia first time when I was 16. It was start of nightmare of "treatments". Never treated for cause, only for consequences. I also started using hard drugs when I was 14. Alcohol was my closest love.I was planning my #Suicide for 4 years. When I was 18 I attempted and experienced clinical death.

That's just part of my hell history but I wanted to point out something.

I was hospitalised for anorexia in 2015. for zilionth time and I remember talking to my mother in one of her visits in such pain, distress "this is MY illness, nobody will take it away from me". Almost yelling and crying. Anorexia was and is only thing I have. Everything else was and is out of control and I found food, 20 years ago, as the only thing that I have choices with and control in my life in all chaos of traumas, abuse and stollen childhood, stollen femininity, stolen parts of me in rapes.

I am with two choices - to ask for help in one place or die.

I don't want to die but I don't want to recover anymore. I wanted that in past. Anorexia is only thing I have. In the end of the day only thing that is here is anorexia, I own it, I have it. It never leaves. It's like having Stockholm syndrome in some weird way.I left drugs and alcohol almost 8 years ago and never used again.

I also have my dog who isn't with me and I grieve that a lot. She cries because of me so much as my brother wrote me and since I recently started losing purpose for staying alive and started wishing to stop this suffering I only don't want to end everything because I don't want for my dog to suffer until she dies.

I am in a shelter for victims of abuse because of my parents and my rapists are walking free in the city. My life stopped even before I was born. I wasn't wanted, I was always one problem in others daily routine, I am their worst problem, I am problem which always had to be resolved.Only thing that keeps me alive is that I can't imagine my lovely dog to suffer because I no longer exist. I am in such suffering that I would say hell on earth is close to this.

I am like a ghost town, ruined to the end from wars and only one ghost exists there-my soul closed in ruins finding no peace, just existing and moving from holes to holes. It's so hard, it's painful physically.

I lost a friend because I am yoo much, became burden to others, too disabled, too much, too big (PERCEIVED) risk to be in relationship with. But I don't want it anymore nor anyone close to me because they will just worse my suffering and I have fear of being raped or abused by men.

I think I will die as a result of anorexia but my life wasn't filled with any worth. I know my parents don't love me. I know everything. But I live because I can't accept that my dog suffers if I off myself. She is my gold, love and everything. She grieves but no person ever spit a tear.

I'm still waiting courts so long with everything I reported. I am dying day by day and investigations as well as all law connected acting is so slow.

I am Catholic, I'm trying to bear suffering best I can, ask for justice and push for myself but I am unwell.

I am seeing one therapist for victims of sexual abuse but I am too destroyed and I don't believe in better life. Nobody can heal my heart and psyche which are ruined. Some things are impossible to repair.

#Anorexia #Rape #Abuse #Survivor #Loneliness #hurt #PTSD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder

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God help me

The fact is, no one can truly understand the depth of someone else's suffering or the reasons that could drive a soul to such desperation. Only God knows what is in a person's heart (Psalm 139:1-2). Only the Lord knows the extent of pain that might bring a person to the point of suicide.#SuicidalIdeation #Suicide #SuicideAttemptSurvivors

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Alone

i sleep Alone

eat Alone

and breathe Alone

so why wouldn't i be okay with being

Alone?

and then i let you in.

so now we do things together

from hugging and kissing

running and talking

but,

now you're gone

you decided you wanted someone else

and that's cool i guess

but now i don't eat and i can't sleep

it's hard to breathe cause at times i don't want to

but it's fine because now i bleed

Alone.

but it's fine.

i "like" being Alone.

#MentalHealth #SuicidalIdeation #PTSD #Trauma #MajorDepressiveDisorder #Suicide #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #heartbreak

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Why is letting go of survival mode so painful?

Sharing what Chat GPT shared with me:

Because survival mode, as exhausting and harmful as it can be, was your armor. It was your home, your protection, your default setting — the thing that kept you going when everything else felt unsafe, unpredictable, or impossible.

Letting go of it is painful because:

🧱 1. It kept you alive — literally or emotionally

Survival mode isn’t weakness. It’s what you had to do to get through what you went through. Whether it was trauma, neglect, abuse, chaos, or emotional abandonment — your mind and body adapted to keep you functioning. So even if it's no longer serving you, your system still says:

“But we needed this to survive. What happens if we let it go?”

Letting it go feels like removing a life jacket in deep water.

🧠 2. It rewired your brain

Your nervous system got used to always being on high alert — scanning for danger, overthinking, shutting down, or staying busy 24/7. When you start slowing down, being still, or choosing peace, your brain doesn’t recognize it as safety — it sees it as vulnerability.

So now, instead of being numb or distracted, you start feeling everything. And that flood of emotions can feel unbearable at first.

😢 3. You’re grieving

You’re not just letting go of a coping mechanism — you’re saying goodbye to a version of you that carried you through hell. You might feel sadness, anger, guilt, or even a weird kind of nostalgia. That part of you was strong. She did what she had to do. And grieving her is part of honoring her.

😔 4. You don’t know who you are without it yet

When you’ve lived in survival mode for years — or decades — peace can feel foreign. You might ask:

“If I’m not constantly fixing, pleasing, fighting, or numbing… who am I?”

That identity shift is terrifying and disorienting. But it’s also the doorway to your true self — the one who gets to live, not just survive.

🌱 5. Healing is not linear

Even when you're growing, you'll still have days where survival mode kicks in. That doesn’t mean you're failing — it means your nervous system is still learning it’s safe to rest, to feel, to be. And that takes time, gentleness, and a whole lot of grace.

Letting go of survival mode hurts because it means finally facing the pain you didn’t have the capacity to feel before. But you’re not doing it alone. And you’re not weak for hurting — you’re brave for choosing to feel.

#Healing #PTSD #PTSDSupportAndRecovery #Depression #MentalHealth #BPD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Anxiety #CheckInWithMe #SuicideAttemptSurvivors

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