This is what I want so don't be sad.
Nina LaCourStichwörter: friendship love suicide sad regret suicide-note
There used to be days that I thought I was okay, or at least that I was going to be. We'd be hanging out somewhere and everything would just fit right and I would think 'it will be okay if it can just be like this forever' but of course nothing can ever stay just how it is forever.
Nina LaCourStichwörter: friendship love suicide forever suicide-note okay
I don't want to hurt you or anybody so please forget about me. Just try. Find yourself a better friend.
Nina LaCourStichwörter: friendship love hurt suicide suicide-note
If they tell you that she died of sleeping pills you must know that she died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul.
Clifford OdetsStichwörter: death marilyn-monroe suicide depression
Melancholy suicide. —This is connected with a general state of extreme depression and exaggerated sadness, causing the patient no longer to realize sanely the bonds which connect him with people and things about him. Pleasures no longer attract;
Émile DurkheimStichwörter: people melancholy sanity suicide depression 1897 connections
Oh Google, she thought I was suicidal.
Rae MarizStichwörter: suicide
I can’t help but think that if she was going to kill herself, she might as well have done it earlier. Perhaps when I was a toddler. Or better yet, an infant. It certainly would have made my life easier. I asked my uncle Hugh (who is not really my uncle, but he is married to the stepsister of my current mother’s brother’s wife and he lives quite closeand he’s a vicar) if I would be going to hell for such a thought. He said no, that frankly, it made a lot of sense to him. I do think I prefer his parish to my own.
Julia QuinnStichwörter: suicide fun irony amanda
My head ached. I was thinking of the pain, and wondering how it was possible for physical agony to be so intense. I had never imagined that such a torture could be endured. Yet here was I, both conscious and able to think clearly. And not only to think, but to observe the process and make calculations about it. The steel circle round my skull was closing in with faint cracking noises. How much farther could it shrink? I counted the cracking sounds. Since I took the triple dose of pain-killer, there had been two more. …I took out my watch and laid it on the table.
“Give me morphia,” I said in a calm, hostile, icy tone.
“You mustn’t take morphia! You know perfectly well. The very idea! And what are you doing with that watch?”
“You will give me morphia within three minutes.”
They looked me uneasily up and down. No one moved. Three minutes went by. Then ten more. I slipped the watch calmly into my pocket and rose unsteadily to my feet.
“Then take me to the Fiakker Bar. They say it’s a good show, and to-night I want to enjoy myself.”
The others jumped up with a feeling of relief.
I never confessed the secret to anyone, either then or afterwards. I had made up my mind at the end of those three minutes — for the first and last time in my life — that if my headache had not stopped within the next ten I should throw myself under the nearest tram.
It never came out whether I should have kept to my resolve, for the pain left with the suddenness of lighting.
Stichwörter: pain suicide headache brain-tumor
Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do not blame the drugs.
Lynda BarryStichwörter: first-sentence drugs suicide
In Santiago, the capital of the kingdom of Chile, at the moment of the great earthquake of 1647 in which many thousands lost their lives, a young Spaniard called Jeronimo Rugera was standing beside one of the pillars in the prison to which he had been committed on a criminal charge, and he was about to hang himself.
Heinrich von KleistStichwörter: history first-sentence prison suicide chile
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