I will be joining thousands of others nationwide, this fall, to walk in AFSP’s Walk “Out of the Darkness” Community Walk, to benefit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I would appreciate any support that you give me for this worthwhile cause.
I have personally dealt with major mental illness, including several suicide attempts, as well as several family members’ struggles with mental illness. Funding for suicide prevention is integral and extremely important.
I hope you will consider supporting my participation in this event. Any contribution will help the work of AFSP, and all donations are 100% tax deductible. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), every year, almost one million people die from suicide; a “global” mortality rate of 16 per 100,000, or one death every 40 seconds. In the last 45 years suicide rates have increased by 60% worldwide. Please consider a donation today and maybe even joining me for the walk!
Donating online is safe and easy! To make an online donation please click the “Support This Participant” button on this page.
Thank you for visiting my fundraising page!
PS- Please contact me if you’re interested in starting a team.
Watch this video and please, help with whatever you can.
It’s been a really tumultuous three years but I’m still here, fighting and whining and bitching and crying and, well, healing. I’ve been with my current therapist for three years! It’s just, well, it’s just unbelievable. First off, you’re not supposed to go past 10-12 sessions at the women’s center where I see her, so three years is unheard of. I don’t know how she’s worked it out, but I’m very grateful. I only pay $15 a session and wouldn’t be able to afford anything more than that. Second, I should have died a few times by now if it weren’t for her help. I almost successfully committed suicide in August and I’ve been hospitalized three subsequent times since. She’s been there for me the whole time, as much as she was able to.
I’m terrified that she will leave the women’s center she’s been at (she’s been getting her hours for license certification) and go elsewhere. If it’s somewhere in Jacksonville and we can work on price, I’ll be fine. The problem is, she live in Amelia Island, and I cannot afford to drive that far for therapy. I’m dreading the day she tells me that she is leaving. I don’t think I can handle it. I guess until then, I will cherish every session with her.
They tell you to be truthful because they want to help. They say it will only help you, in the end. I partially believe them and then I tell the truth. What happens? They send me to these awful hospitals that never help.
Just because I say I feel hopeless. Just because I harm myself, doesn’t mean I need to be hospitalized. Just because death is an everyday thought, doesn’t mean I plan on acting on those thoughts.
Who can I talk to without fear? No one understands.
I just burned myself for the first time in a long time. So long, I’d stopped counting. I would be beating myself up over it but it felt so good.
I feel lower than low, right now. I have so much self hate right now, I’m running through ways to make myself even more ugly, more invisible, and basically make my physical appearance mimic how I feel inside. I want to shave my head and dye it black. I want to burn my arms all over and never shower, get dressed, or brush my teeth.
I feel like nothing. I am nothing but a burden. The world would be better off without me, but I can’t even manage to properly kill myself. I’m lost.
I wanted nothing more than to get pregnant and last month, I was ecstatic to see two positive tests staring back at me. I became infatuated with my pregnancy and felt great. I was so happy, I was able to quit my meds cold turkey and it didn’t bother me at all. My family and friends have been so supportive. I had something to get up for each day. I was important.
I am using the past tense because I found out today that I am unequivocally not pregnant any longer. I had a miscarriage at some point and began menstruating on Friday. I was devastated and lost. I stayed in bed all weekend and cried, tried to distract myself, and got rid of any baby evidence I could find.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I went to therapy today and I’ve made an appointment for meds counseling tomorrow. I hadn’t thought of hurting myself in what felt like awhile, but Saturday, I felt sure I was going to do something. I am confused and don’t know where to go from here.
I carved “dirty” into my leg last night and I didn’t even want to. I got halfway in and it hurt. I wanted to stop, but my obsessive, impulsivity (OCD) wouldn’t allow me to not finish. I’ve got to get this shit under control. I sign contract after contract stating I won’t harm myself, yet when I’m under duress, I am apathetic to everything else.
I think I’m falling apart and quickly. I am currently surviving hour by hour, which feels awful. I want to sleep and take pills all day and not do anything.
I was rejected by someone I liked and it’s because I’m fucking crazy.
I want to die.