Last night I used a length of rope to make a noose, put it around a beam and the noose around my neck. I kicked away my support. I was suffocating. It hurt so much. I pushed with my hands against the beam until so much strain was put onto the thin rope that it snapped. I fell onto the floor, gasping for air.
A few nights before this one I was looking at a mass of spikes, up-right, like a forest of death. I was standing near it, some distance above it. I walked to the edge, looked at the spikes and allowed myself to drop down onto them. As the spikes pierced my body things suddenly went black.
Many other suicides I probably do not remember any more. I'm sick of having to deal with these nightmares almost every night. I don't know how long I can take it any more. Committing suicide to stop thinking and dreaming about suicide, how is that for irony?
I'm still unable to focus at this moment, though it's been hours since I got up. All that seems to resonate within my head are these memories of experiences which never happened and yet which seem so real, combined with similar memories which are real. Brushing my hair and taking care of my skin, moments before taking an overdose of sleeping pills with some water. Passing out without realizing it.
I don't know what's happening with me at this point that killing myself is the only thing I seem to be able to dream and think of any more. I do know that I'm not going to get out of this on my own. Doing things myself got me this far, but there's no path beyond this point. None that I can see at least.