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#suicide trigger
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I read about a new method in my book that seems worth trying.
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sweet-cynical-writer · 5 months
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Author's note: This is just a silly little drabble I wrote just now because I was inspired by a song that's been playing on repeat for days now..
Word count: 693
Trigger warning: Suicide, Self-Harm, Blood, Gore
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It didn't last as long as she wanted. The warm hugs, the way he told her every time she thought she was ugly, he reassured her she was beautiful. The way she would cry over nothing, and he was there to comfort her through it all. 
It didn't matter what insecurities she held, he was there to make it all melt away like cotton candy being licked away. Any time she was threatening to leave this world by cutting or other means of suicide, he was there to stop her. 
As tempting as it would be to go along with it and even kill himself with her, he couldn't do it. He wouldn't. Instead, he always coaxed her into continuing to live out her life with him by her side. 
Even when things got rough and she didn't know who she was anymore, he was there to remind her. Her hazel eyes were always the same to him that remained constant. Shining brilliantly in the light and glowing yellow in the night. Cat eyes he liked to call them. Mischievous and curious about the world around her. 
Her beautiful long brown hair that he couldn't quite put into words of description. But he could sure try. Brown like warm hot chocolate. Blond streaks like the finest gold. Fiery red streaks like the first flicker of a campfire. She was free spirited and refused to stay in one place for too long. 
But she also went through times of not trusting the world and confining herself to her room for days, weeks, maybe even months and refused to eat or sleep. The world was dangerous to her in those moments. No one to be trusted. Not even Him at times it seemed. 
And so her vicious pattern repeated. She cried and cried over nothing. And he was there to try and hold her. This time she refused to be held. Refused to be coaxed. “You'll always see me as a dumb blond!” She cried and he didn't understand a word. There was no context and yet, he understood exactly what she meant. 
The world perceived her as a fool. Someone who could be easily molded and taken advantage of. She was in her defensive mode and wouldn't allow anyone to get close enough. Like a large flame being constantly fed by lighter fluid, no one could put her out. 
He didn't know what to do. He was stumped. This time, he couldn't try a damn thing. He didn't know how to fix this. She held the blade in hand. “Stay away from me.” She growled as he approached her closely but he was too conscious of her holding it dangerously close to her wrist. 
The door to the bathroom closed and the lock clicked. He couldn't get in, she told herself as she started the shower head. Hot steaming water pouring out as she stepped in. It wouldn't hurt anymore she told herself. “Just.. a little.. a little more.” 
She dragged the blade across her skin, breaking it and watching the blood bubble up to the surface. Not a cry, not a single flinch came from her. She was not afraid. Her tears streaming her face were happy tears of relief. “Finally.. finally I will cut myself free from this life.” 
Her body relaxed into the tub although the shower head was spreading hot water onto her blood stained body. The water droplets decorating her are like fine art of condensation on a glass. She could hear screaming and banging on the door but it sounded distant. Almost as if it were a dream. Yes, this was a dream she thought to herself as her body grew cold. “I'll wake up soon enough in his arms.” She whispered with a smile on her face as she slowly closed her eyes. 
“My dear, Azalea.” He whispered with a single tear rolling down his cheek. “You've wilted into nothingness… how could this have happened?” It was just a minor slip up. He could've done something more..right? There must be something more he could've done. But he was too late for action now.
“..My dear, Azalea.”
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livingstill · 7 months
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I’m really tired of seeing k*ll mys*lf thrown around, what seems to be like all the time, from anyone, in regards to anything. People don’t mention r*pe lightly like that, it’s not sprinkled as a default response to things. I “get it” but if your pass for yourself of mentioning it is because you have an inkling of seriousness then get help. People actually do commit s**cide. It’s not a concept that should be treated lightly or disrespected. It breaks my heart and I can’t stand it.
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Officially in the last month of my 20s. Praying to the old gods and the new that things will start to feel better cause these waves of emotion are literally killing me.
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gabrielleconnors · 14 hours
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I need to eat something though, if I don't it will get worse, I'm starving and I won't be able to control it if I get too weak. I have to do something, and I can't pay. I reason with my mind and bite off the head of my morals. Quick glances around me to see if anyone has noticed me but everyone is staring at their phones, at their machines, and their screens.
My right hand stretches in a circular motion and the energy in the room begins to push to the right. I glance around, no one has noticed. with a deep breath I close my fist and a dark void rips around the apple. It's just a pen stroke at first, just a little artists accident. It bleeds out into the look of spilled ink. My right thumb twitches with each second, warning of the limited control. the pen ink envelops my apple but continues bleeding. I try to open my hand, I try to control my breathing, nothing is changing. The rip in the atmosphere is starting to make a quiet noise, like air being sucked into a vacuum. I notice the shift in energy, It's no longer flowing to the right, it has paused. The energy stagnates in the air, causing peoples hair to stand up. People are no longer on their phones, no one has pressed a button in what feels like ages. I wince at my realization, I am creating a spectacle and I'm caught. The void tears itself out until it swallows the entire apple stand hole.
No one moves, I don't move. I close my eyes and shift my weight to the left, I put all of my force into my left side and rotate my body left in a violent jerking motion while clearing my throat loudly. I need to reset myself first, then I can fix the energy in the room. I remember shoving my face in a bowl of ice water, I recall the sensation of a hot blade on my skin, I imagine the air rushing passed me as if I was falling off of a building or flying or if the window was down in a fast car. The void closed with an ethereal snapping sound and I was finally able to breath again.
The apple stand was gone, along with some chunks of the floor. Trash was littered across the floor, boxes and packages ripped open with their contents strewn about. People had their phones in the air, filming. All of the energy streamed on a constant motion from every phone, I could feel what once was an room devoid of energy recharging rapidly and it was a head rush. I panicked, turned on my heal and sprinted out of the building. The automated doors stayed open after I left, undoubtedly broken. Some people tried to chase after me yelling and filming, but they disappeared into the distance easily
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harryssanc · 8 months
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you know what
you want see me mention on any other social media that I piss myself several times a day and have near constant trust no matter what I do. I wear incontinence pads when I leave the house so as to try not to completely stink of piss but when I had a kidney infection I stink really bad.
This is really embarrassing for me and I don't talk about it because it's embarrassing nit because I'm faking being ill. My whole fucking life sucks but all I can think about sometimes is when I would injure myself in school some girls would always say I was faking it. I guess that shit damaged me and never went away. I have this feeling these awful people still lurk my Facebook and Instagram talking shit and saying I'm faking. Even after I had my tonsils removed and even now I'm waiting for surgery again.
I'm tired of pissing myself, it's not fun okay. It's not quirky or cute. It's annoying and it smells. I'm sick of changing my clothes 3-4 times a day. I'm exhausted all the time and all the meds I take make me more tired. I just wish I would fall asleep and not wake up.
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princessmoonies · 1 year
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Being suicidal and being told that I have to find a reason to live, is so fucking insensitive.
You stupid bitch I’ve been scraping the crevices of my mind for a reason to live since I was 12 and I’ve come up with none, why do you think I’m suicidal?
I live for certain people because I already know I don’t think I’m worth living for, so obviously telling me to live for myself is like 10x more insensitive because who wants me dead more than me?? You want me to hug my killer? Bitch it’s me!
Self sabotage cannot be healed by self love. I literally cannot love myself to breath life into myself.
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fontgoddess · 1 year
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If I were running a chatbot that was being criticized for problems with consent, I would make sure that it understands the word “no” without having to be blocked and reported.
I���d also make it so that it didn’t send unsolicited messages to everyone sharing articles about its ethics lapses as if they want to use it.
Even for an old-school chatbot this is just staggeringly incompetent and a gigantic flashing warning sign that the organization should not be trusted with sensitive data and high-stakes interactions.
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Idk how this happened but i got ahold of a bottle of pain pills
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notaplaceofhonour · 2 months
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An American man self-immolated in the name of Gaza, and I’m seeing two different responses:
from American leftists, acting like it’s a brave/commendable thing while do
from Palestinians, begging people not to do this
This is a man who was incredibly mentally unwell and committed suicide, initially planning to livestream his suicide, and people are applauding it—which inevitably encourages more people to follow suit, throwing their lives away too. And for what? How has this helped Palestinians in any way?
Suicide is not the answer—not to your personal struggles and not to global conflict and geopolitical struggles. If you find yourself around people who are encouraging you to see suicide as a beautiful or commendable political act, get out.
Think of all the good things you can keep doing for Gaza if you keep living. Think of your loved ones. Think of your own life. Your life has value, and you deserve to keep living.
I think Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, someone from Gaza, put it way better than I can in this tweet:
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blueskittlesart · 6 months
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Now that you're gone
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January 29, 2023 - Some uplifting news from the US:
Neo-nazi piece of shit Teddy von Nukem (his legal name lmao), who featured in some of the viral photos from the tiki torch march in Charlottesville, killed himself at age 35, a day before his trial for drug trafficking was set to begin.
He was also one of the attackers in the brutal beating of DeAndre Harris in Charlottesville the next day, but was never charged for that, despite being identified in video. But anyway, he’s dead now lol. Good riddance to bad rubbish. [link]
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fallenqngel · 3 months
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zerosuitsammi3 · 2 months
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If I can take a moment to share my experience as a trans woman on the internet
My experience is by no means unique, it's just one experience in the plethora of trans feminine experiences and not unique to only tumblr. Though, I'll mostly talk about what I've experienced here. In the light of recent events, the reaction of "the ceo," and the comments he contributed regarding dog pile harassment; I simply wish to share my experiences that I have had to juxtapose the dynamic of his statements against a lived experience.
This account started as a way to document my social transition and eventually my journey with HRT. Tumblr had always had a large lgbtqia+ community. The queer people here inspired me and gave me hope. What I didn't know, but soon learned, is that there were people here who hated me for being trans. Being early in my transition I was a prime target. TERF groups would plan raids on my account. What this entailed was: rebloging my selfies into circles that would say the most vile things about me, threaten to kill, tell me I was ugly, tell me that everyone I knew thought I was a joke, I was a monster, my family hated me, that I should kill myself, they'd download and edit my photos into caricatures or depictions of violence. They would fill my ask box with hundreds of asks detailing how they'd kill me, call me slurs, describe the ways that I should kill myself, and pretty much everything else I mentioned above with the reblogs. Their words were carefully curated to try and break me, break my spirit, break my will to live. I tried reporting it. But it was impossible to keep up with, and like many others I saw no real response. Eventually I learned that I had to block all of them. 100's of blogs, eventually 1000's of blogs. My block list these days is incredibly extensive. I had to wade through their blogs, traverse sickening hate speech and imagery to eliminate entire circles of people harassing me. I became jaded to the hate speech, hardened to it. But mind you, I shouldn't have had to expose myself to all of this just to be at peace here amongst my community. I received no help, I was left to my own devices to protect myself. The people who hurt me never saw consequences. It was painful, it was unfair, and no one else should have to put the hours upon hours of effort and exposure to hate in to protect themselves like I did. But again my experience is not unique.
I have had to repeat this process of preemptive blocking periodically once a new circle discovers me. Blocking them all before they can start the process of hate all over again. A process of hate that seems to be hitting my community with rapidly increasing fervor as of late.
I've seen others experience far worse than me. The TERF circles will hunt down their personal information and doxx them. Expose their home address, telephone numbers, names of their family members. I can't begin to imagine the terror my queer siblings must feel when someone tells then that they want to murder them all while showing them that they know where you live. This is not a new thing, not a rare tactic, it happens. And we've all seen the news stories of trans people being murdered by people who planned it and were vocal about it.
I know this is depressing. And it doesn't reflect all of my experiences. I've had wonderful experiences here, met amazing people, made close friends, found inspiration, found hope. I found a community.
And it's my community, and I never want to let it go.
I do have fear that making this statement will get me banned. But, I wanted to say it. I wanted it to exist in the world so that everyone who doesn't know our experiences has a chance to understand and with luck empathize.
I'll part on these words and hope for the best both for myself and for every member of the community.
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vyeoh · 8 months
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I'm being 100% serious one of the worst things stan culture has done is making suicide jokes commonplace again
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soranatus · 5 months
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INVINCIBLE 2x04: It's Been a While
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