Memoires of 24-year-old that survived a suicide attempt

I was reading ‘Beyond Order’ by Jordan Peterson the other day. It’s a great self-help book, and it’s actually a sequel on ’12 Rules for Life’. One of the rules/chapters is called ‘If old memories still upset you, write them down carefully and completely’. So that’s what I’ll do over here. First, I will give you guys a short summary of my life so far. After that, I’ll go into detail and write all my traumas and battle scars on this page whenever I feel like it.

So, I was born 24 years ago in a small town in the Netherlands. I grew up as an only child and I lived with my mom and dad. My parents divorced when I was 7 years old. Since then, my mom and I lived together and my dad moved out. One of my dad’s friends became my stepfather shortly afterwards, and he still lives with my mom. My dad has remarried too and got two kids with his new wife and I consider them as my little brothers. During my childhood I was a happy, creative, introverted and funny kid. But I was very obedient and a ‘good boy’. Although I liked being on my own, I was a social kid and had a lot of fun during my childhood.

When I got in high school, I got a lot of new friends. I became more extraverted and more rebellious. I had a lot of fun in high school; I kissed a girl for the first time, got my first real girlfriend, and I had sex for the first time. Unfortunately, I also developed a lot of bad habits during high school: smoking cigarettes, heavy drinking, smoking weed, eating junk food, procrastination, and the worst of them all: jerking off at foot-fetish-content. In my senior year they kicked me out, because of my behavior and my bad grades.

After high school, my bad habits became worse. I started drinking and smoking more and more, I started experimenting with hard drugs, and my innocent foot-fetish developed in a hardcore femdom-fetish. I jerked off to femdom, humiliation, forced bi, cuckold, slave/master and even gay content at least twice a day. Because of a lack of motivation, no work ethic, procrastination ,and having no direction in life I failed getting a degree twice. The drugs, the femdom content, low confidence, a depression and the letter that told me I got kicked out of school again, made me commit a horrible crime; at the age of 20, I committed suicide by taking pills and drinking booze.

Luckily, I puked all the pills out in my sleep and after staying in the hospital for the night, I could go home again. Still dealing with all my problems, I started working at my grandfather’s business. From there I slowly built myself up again. I started NoFap, eating healthy, lifting weights, watching self-help content on YouTube, running, and reading books. At the age of 22 I managed to get into college, by applying to a special program. I moved out to a student dorm in another city and started a bachelor in Business and Entrepreneurship.

Now, I am almost at the start of my third year. I quit smoking for 6 months now, I haven’t been drunk in months, reduced drug intake to a few times a year, and I’m fighting every day against PMO. My body and mind are in great shape, and I am healthier and happier than ever before. I even became a Christian last year. But it’s not completely happily ever after. I still have a lot of demons that I need to confront.

If you are interested in my story and my recovery, and want to know the details, please follow my page to keep you updated. I’ll go into specific memories of life. ‘If old memories still upset you, write them down carefully and completely’

 

My recovery from cocaine addiction.

I smoked my first joint when I was 15 years old. And to be honest, I did abuse that drug too for a long time, but that’s a story for another time. At some point between the age 16-20, I lost my self-confidence. How? I don’t know. Maybe it was the toxic relationship I just got out, the shame I felt because I dropped out of high school, or my femdom-fetish. I don’t know. What I do know is that I started using cocaine.

Some friends of mine were using cocaine sometimes, so I decided to also do it. I liked the energy and the fake confidence it gave me, but I was afraid people would notice, so I always micro dosed it. Which was, looking afterwards, also beneficial for my wallet. The only people that knew I was using coke were my friends who were also using it, and they also didn’t want people to know, so I was pretty safe. I told some very good friends about my addiction, and they have told me they never noticed at all.

At first, I only used it in nightclubs, because I never wanted to leave the party early. After a while, I started using it at parties at friends or in our local bar, to compensate for my introverted character. And after a few months I even used it at family meetings, because I felt so anxious and nervous without it. I loved the careless feeling it could give me. All my worries, fears and anxiousness were gone for a while, but they came back twice as hard the next morning. But the longer I was using the stuff, the more I needed to get the same feeling. So after a while, the micro dosing turned into big lines. After a few months I recognized that I was very moody during the week. My dopamine was at a constant low, because I of the alcohol and drug abuse in the weekend, and because I was jerking off twice a day during the week. I knew what it did to me. Even after my suicide attempt I kept on using it.

I don’t remember my first time using it, but what I do remember was my last time using it. It was at a night out during the Christmas holidays. My friends and I were partying in a local bar, and it was quite busy because of the holidays. We had a lot of fun that night. I remember me talking to a beautiful sweet girl, but even while I was on cocaine, I didn’t have the guts to kiss her or to make a move. At the end of the night, some guys who also used coke asked me to come to an after-party. I remember us walking towards it and when I looked behind me, I saw that girl from earlier that evening alone staring at me. And what did I do? I went with those guys anyway. What a loser was I.

That night, I used the largest amount of dope in my life. At the after-party, everyone, including myself, threw their entire package on a tray, and we all stiffed off it. The next morning, in fact that same night, I decided I never wanted to touch that shit again. Recovering from cocaine was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Every time I’m at the bar and I get a little tipsy, I want to use again. I think it’s a never ending fight, but I’ve resisted it for more than two years now. And the urges are nothing compared to what it once was. I think the reason why I was successful was my shift in lifestyle. I started eating healthier, started working out, and I started taking control of my dopamine levels by NoFap. Without that, I wouldn’t have made it.

If you are reading this, and you have a drug addiction, please send me a private message, I would be glad to help you.

 

So after my suicide attempt I started working at a company that sold clothes on street markets. During that period of my life I learned a lot about business, sales and customer service, and I will always be grateful for those valuable lessons. But those street markets were almost always at the deprived area’s of the big cities in the Netherlands. For the first time in my life I saw what poverty did to people. I had never been in contact with those people, because I grew up in a small country village where everyone was working hard, so it was a real culture shock for me. So I decided that I would never become poor, so I had to find a way to become successful.

So I started reading books, because I read somewhere that that is what successful people did. I was so committed, I almost read 1 book a week, considering that I was working 60 hours a week. I read books like ‘Think and Grow Rich’, ‘The power of positive thinking’, ‘The Secret’ and other self-development books. After a while I started believing in a higher power, the universe, a source. But I never recognized it as God. I was raised an atheist and my family and friends all talked shit about Christians. I started meditating on that higher power and started ‘talking’ to it.

I don’t believe it was a specific moment that convinced me of the existence of God. I think once I got older and more experienced in life, I finally realized that God was real. Maybe my trip to Jerusalem, or spending a long time in the woods, or me disliking my sinful behavior that let me to this point. But at one day, I started reading the Bible and I wanted to learn more about Christianity. I remember watching ‘A.D. The Bible Continues’ on Netflix and I experienced something very strange. I felt an extreme positive happy feeling going through my body multiple times. I always compare it with XTC, because it felt exactly the same. Since that moment, I’ve been walking my faith.

While being a Christian, NoFap has a much bigger meaning. I started NoFap because I wanted to attract girls to be honest. Now I see PMO for what it is, a sin. I do struggle a lot with PMO, but my faith is helping me a lot.

 

Does my ex-girlfriend still has an impact on my mind?

I have been in relationships since I was 10 years old until I was 18. My first girlfriend was a classmate from elementary school, I broke up with her when we went to high school. In the first two years of high school, I wasn’t really interested in girls anymore, or maybe I was too insecure to start dating, I don’t know for sure. But when I was 14/15, I experienced my first high school kiss, and after that, things went like a roller-coaster. I dated a lot of girls, and had a couple of relationships. I considered myself quite a player because of my success with women. When I was 16/17, I met her, my ex-girlfriend.

She was the first girlfriend that wanted to sleep with me. Give a 16-year-old boy sex, and he will do anything for you… So, I did. It was a very toxic relationship. We’ve been together for like two years, and all we did was fight, hook-up, fight, and hook-up. She was a little dominant, and mentally (and sometimes physically) abused me a little, which fed my femdom-fetish, so I didn’t see the problem. Eventually, I had enough. Because of the rude things she said to me, the abuse, all the fighting, and her crazy personality, I broke up with her.

After we broke up, I kissed multiple girls and had sex a few times, but after a few months, I lost my confidence with girls. Why? I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was PMO, maybe because I was getting fatter, maybe because I dropped out of high school and was a fuckup? The result: haven’t slept with a woman for 3 or 4 years now.

Sometimes, I still dream or fantasize about her. Not romantically, but more in a femdom way. Because she is my last known ex-girlfriend, the people around me mention her a lot. Whenever someone mentions her, I always get upset. Is she the reason why I lost my confidence? And if so, what the hell do I do about it?

 

My recovery from marijuana addiction

I started smoking pot when I was 15. While writing this, I’m trying to remember my first time. It was during a party with two of my friends. One of them brought it with him, and he asked people to join him. I was very curious and excised about it, so we smoked the entire joint together. To be honest, I wasn’t that high though, but it was the start of a very dark chapter of my life.

After a few months, I met a few guys that smoked pot, and were drinking a lot. All of them were great guys and I liked them a lot. After a while we became friends and I obviously joined their alcohol and drugs habits. Of the cause of a few months, I developed this ‘stoner-image’ of myself. It was during the end of high school, and we were partying like crazy, almost every day. Some of those guys moved out of town, and after a while we stopped hanging out so often. During that period (between age 16-20) I smoked less than before, but still a considerable amount, but always in good companion.

After my suicide attempt, I started smoking weed almost daily again with two friends, whom both aren’t good for me. They were thugs to be honest and all they did was use drugs and drink, and so did I. Before I started working out, I always had a hard time sleeping, so I started smoking pot before going to bed, to help me sleep. After a while, my mom caught me doing it, and she was very upset about it. That really broke my heart, seeing her crying. So, I quit marijuana and removed those thugs from my life. This is the period of my life I started moving towards the light a little, by starting to eat healthy, and by training, starting the NoFap journey, and eventually getting into college.

While in college, I started smoking weed every night. I always felt nervous and anxious about going to the coffee shop to buy some weed. Strangely, I feel more comfortable buying drugs from an illegal drug dealer than from a legal shop. So, one day I bought a huge amount of weed, so I never had to buy weed again. As it turned out, this was the last time I bought weed. During the first few months of college, I had some straight up work ethic. I woke up at 6 am every day to work out in the gym. I worked my ass off in college and educated myself in my spare time. 2 hours before going to bed, I would light a joint and relax, almost every day. After I moved out to a bigger apartment, I still worked hard, but I wanted a more social life, so I woke up a little later, and worked out in the afternoon. However, I was more isolated over there, which fed my introverted character and my addictions. During this time of my life, I was in darkness, sometimes literally.

I would lock myself into my room, for sometimes, days. The only time I went out was for going to the toilet and opening the door for the delivery guy. I was playing video games, watching YouTube/Netflix and smoking weed all day. During that period I PMO-ed heavily. Sometimes, I didn’t see daylight for 3 days. Luckily, I got out of the darkness. I was humiliating myself in front of the camera for some ‘online femdom girl’. After I had an orgasm, I felt ashamed, weak, vulnerable and depressed. That day, I decided to get back up again.

I moved out of that apartment into a student house. Where I don’t have a lot of privacy and a lot of social control. This really helps me to be more accountable, and most important, helps me not to go back into that darkness. During the first few weeks, we smoked some pot, but my roommate and I decided it was time for us to quit. We threw all the shit away. I haven’t bought any of it, ever again.

I still smoke a joint once in a while, but always with friends, and to be honest, I don’t like it that much anymore. I have found out about what marijuana did to my brain. It has made me weak, feminine, lazy and undisciplined. Smoking weed has been a part of my life, of my personality, but it has shown me the worst parts of myself. I still long to spending time alone, it’s just part of my character, I hate that part of myself, but also love it. My introverted character, and what to do about it, is a story and fight for another time…

 

Burglary

While writing the story above, I realized that I needed to tell another story. A story of me committing a crime. During that act, I broke the law, and probably also broke my honor and soul. I can’t exactly remember how old I was, I believe I was 17. To give you a perspective, I had a totally different character than I have right now. I had no direction in life, I didn’t know what I wanted to do in all aspects of my life. I had no role models whatsoever, so I found them by watching documentaries: criminals. I don’t know what attracted me to them. Maybe it was the money, the cool stories, being part of something…

One day me and my friends were having a few drinks at a local youth association building; which was basically an illegal bar. Everyone was having a good time and money was flowing. I noticed where the cash desk was, and I saw a couple of hundred euros. After a few drinks, I paid a visit to the toilet and I noticed that a window was mission due to construction work. I don’t have an active memory of me figuring out a plan that night. But I do know that I left the building together with people that locked the door and noticed that there was no alarm.

Long story short, I made up a plan to steal the money at night together with one of the thug friends that I mentioned in the story above. He would sneak in through the open window, because he was a lot leaner and we would open the back door for me. We sneaked into the building and stood before the cash desk, it was locked. My friend wanted to leave, but I figured out a way to get behind the desk, and we stole the money. We went out the back door and we ran. We met in an ally and split the money.

The worst thing was that I loved it. I loved the thrill and the fact that my plan had succeeded. Looking back I realize what a bad person I was. Maybe the problems I face today is God’s way of punishing me. The money I stole was from that youth association. One of my friends was a member of it. Right after the burglary, I met him in another bar, so I had an alibi. We weren’t good friends back then, but we are now. Now, I feel so bad about it. I am debating myself whether I have to tell him or not. Or should I anonymously return the money to the association?

 

Telling my friends about my suicide attempt

Sorry for spamming in this thread, but by digging into the dark side of my mind, I’m trying to figure shit out for myself. I think I am finally getting somewhere.

Some people, know about my suicide attempt, some don’t I think. When people asked me about why there was an ambulance in front of my house, I always made up some bullshit story. But I am from a small town, so I am pretty sure some people know. Once a year, our entire town transforms into a party zone, because we celebrate the founding of our town. It was a few months after the suicide attempt.

Long story short, I was drunk, and under the influence of cocaine. And something broke inside my mind. I had to tell people about the fact that I tried to kill myself. I called my two best friends over to follow me away from the crowd. I broke. I burst out in tears, and told my two best friends and one of their girlfriends. After that, I felt better. But now, only thinking about it, makes me feel very uncomfortable. I feel weak for crying and telling them, but I also feel good for it.

I always wonder how people see me. Of course no one mentions it in a conversation. But I am for damn sure people will always see me as the guy who tried to kill himself. I love the place where I was born, and I would be glad to live there one day. But the fact that people know about me and the past, makes me want to disappear from that place, never to return. I am thinking about joining the military after I am done studying, but will they judge me because of the suicide attempt? I am sure the intelligence center knows about it. Maybe the French Foreign Legion might be an option. Like always, I don’t know where to go. Luckily, I walk by faith these days…

 

How femdom destroyed my self-confidence

I am attracted to beautiful, powerful and (little) dominant women. I have been attracted to these type of women for as long as I can remember. In my childhood I had a crush on older girls from primary school. Later I was intrigued by Queen Cleopatra or the beautiful rich girl in a TV show. Even now when I watch Game of Thrones I am stunned by Daenerys’ appearance. Maybe I was born with this preference, maybe it’s because I was raised my by mom most of my life, and I consider her as ‘the head of the house’. Maybe it’s a little of both, I don’t know for sure. What I do know that this preference isn’t porn-induced, because I was attracted to these types long before I was introduced to porn. I remember fantasizing about these women, worshiping them, not in a submissive way, but by love.

In high school I started to jerk of to massage tutorials on YouTube, that’s where it all started. Soon I found out that there was ‘soft-erotic femdom content’ on YouTube as well, and after a while I found out that the internet was full of it. At the age of 15, I was jerking off to hardcore humiliation femdom content daily. The content I was watching was predominantly foot fetish, but it also contained things like: humiliation, CBT, cuckold, forced-bi, chastity, and servitude. These self-proclaimed ‘princesses’ or ‘goddesses’ talk shit about the male actor participating. ‘’You are worthless’’ ‘’You don’t deserve a woman like me’’ ‘’The only thing you are allowed to do is to kiss my ****’’ ‘’You will never get a girl, you will always be a slave’’. And I was always imagining that the male actor was me.

To give you guys a good perspective. At the age of 16 I was a pretty confident guy. I was a school athlete, lean, popular, had a lot of friends, girls admired me and fought over me, and I had a lot of self-confidence because of that. But I believed watching these kinds of videos on a daily basis had a significant impact on my mind. Because at the age of 21, the things being said in these videos, was the image I had of myself. I don’t say this is the only reason why my self-confidence has decayed. In one of the topic’s above I write about my ex-girlfriend having a possible impact on my confidence.

Now it’s time to regain that confidence again, because my self-worth is still very low. I don’t ‘like’ hot girls on Tinder, because I feel like I don’t deserve them, that I am not worthy of them. I try to regain confidence by getting good at stuff. I am making quite good progress in: running, lifting, archery, reading books, and marketing. But I don’t feel like it helps my self-confidence. I have recently gotten a gift from a stranger of this forum. He gave me the ‘Self Authoring Program’ from Jordan Peterson. I must say that helps me a lot to find out about the problems in my daily life and to reflect on them. But, I feel like I need to do more. Maybe I should try hypnosis? Or affirmations? Or should I study these so-called pickup artists? If you guys have any suggestions, please send me a private message. Thanks for reading.

 

Substitutes for femdom porn

I found out about NoFap about 2 years ago. How? Probably YouTube algorithm. But I am forever grateful for it, because it helped me reflect on my sexual behavior. I can’t say I am very successful at NoFap, especially at first I relapsed a lot. Not watching P was never a very big problem for me, I have enough self-discipline to keep me away from that filth. But the devil in my mind tried to look for substitutes.

I read erotic femdom stories, and it got me always horny. Reading these kinds of stories would almost always lead to MO and sometimes even P. The devil tried to trick me once again. That voice in my head was saying: ‘’This isn’t porn, it’s okay to do this.’’ But reading erotic stories wasn’t the biggest problem. I started visiting dating sites. And I don’t mean Tinder, I mean sex advertisement websites, BDSM dating sites, or platforms like Omegle or Kik. I started connecting with the people on these platforms, both men and women. My inclination was to get a BDSM-date, or even a relationship, but (luckily) I always backed out at some point. But being on these platforms would almost always lead to MO or sometimes P.

Now, I realize, I never really wanted a date, a relationship, or some kind of real connection, I just wanted to PMO. It was the devil in my kind looking for alternatives. And that’s the thing with the devil. Whether you’re a Christian or not, ‘evil’ or ‘darkness’ or ‘things that you know are bad for you’ will disguise themselves most of the time. That’s why eating junk food feels so good, or why smoking cigarettes feel so good. You know these things are bad for you, but you do it anyway.

 

A gentleman, or submissive?

Long story short, I was raised to treat women with respect. I can’t even imagine what it is like to use violence against a woman. And while being in my first few relationships with girls, I always was very polite, gentle and romantic. I was the guy that surprised his girlfriend with gifts, picked her up on Valentine's Day to spend the entire day together, wanted to open the door for her, and called her at night when she couldn’t sleep. That part of me was what girls liked, I am sure of that. Even I like that part about me. But now, all I want is to be someone’s ‘slave’ or ‘sub’.

Years of watching femdom porn and masturbation to it, destroyed not only my confidence with girls, but the way I look at them. I have put them on a pedestal, and the only way I can get there is to submit to her. Obviously, it is exactly the opposite.

I believe that at some point in life, I misunderstood being a gentleman with being submissive. Maybe, femdom porn is to blame, maybe my ex-girlfriend is to blame, maybe the way I was raised is to blame. But there is only one person that’s fully guilty of this: me. I want to be a gentleman again, and I know I can, because I’ve been one before. But where do I start? My NoFap journey and my faith really helps to ban perversion from my life, but the perversion does not go away so easy and quick.

 

Killing myself (Part 1)

I consider myself a pretty anxious guy. Whenever I have to pitch a product, do a presentation, go on a sales talk, or go to a job interview, my body and brain immediately reacts. A few days before the event, my body starts developing this anxious and nervous feeling right above my belly. I consider this one of the most terrible feelings in the world, and I absolutely hate it.

When I was in Adult Education after I dropped out of high school, I experienced that terrible feeling almost every day. Nowadays, I only feel it when something like a presentation of sales talk is coming up, but back then I experienced it when I just had to go to class. I hated it so much, that I started to skip classes, in order to escape it. I believe I've spent a few months in my room, escaping reality. All I did was watching femdom content, eating junk, smoking weed, watching YouTube, jerking off, and lying in bed. I got into a depression because of it. When the letter came, I saw no more way out anymore. At that moment at the age of 20, I decided that I was going to kill myself.

Writing this all out will be very hard for me. I have never told someone the entire truth about this. But I believe it is time for me to write it all out, since I don’t have the guts to tell someone face to face.

The worst thing about my suicide attempt, is that I planned it a few days before it. Afterwards, I convinced people that it was impulsive and that I couldn’t remember anymore. But, I do remember it all. I planned the suicide on Thursday, because on Friday the school would inform my parents. That morning, when my mom left for work, I kissed her, knowing it would be the last time I did. I drove my car towards a remote area, and threw all the stuff I didn’t want people to know I had away. It were things like weapons and drugs. After that, I threw my phone in the river, and I drove home.

I skipped breakfast, took some bottles of liquor, and went to my room. There I started smoking cigarettes, and drinking liquor. I turned on my laptop and started listening to some emotional music, and while doing so, I popped painkillers. I remember crying like a baby while doing this. After a few hours I got drunk, and intoxicated by the pills. I got into a state that I would call ‘possessed’. I started writing lyrics and words on the wall. I can’t remember the exact words, but I do remember they were lyrics of songs I listened to. I also started creating some kind of last will. I created a bowl full of tokens from our local bar for my friends to have a drink on me. I wrote at the back of a Football a something for my little brother, which said: ‘’****, become a man, become better than me’’. Eventually, the alcohol and the pills started working, and I fell a sleep in bed.

Sorry guys, it is getting a little too much for me right now. I’ll continue later on.

 

Killing myself (part 2)

The moment I woke up, my stepdad was trying to wake me up. I heard him really far away, although he was next to me. ‘’Dani can you hear me?’’ ‘’What happened?’’ ‘’Do I need to call a doctor?’’, sometimes these sentences still eco through my mind. A few minutes later, I remember my dad talking to my stepdad. But, after that I passed out again. The next moment I woke up, two paramedics we’re in my room. One of them was pinching my nipple to see if I was still a little conscious. The next moment I remember, I was on a stretcher outside, while they moved me into an ambulance. In the ambulance, I remembered my dad being there, holding my hand. That was the first moment, I felt emotion again. Whenever I hear an ambulance alarm, I still get a little upset.

I got fully conscious again at the intensive care. They had put some kind of medicine in me that deactivated all the pills I took, and an intravenous drip to make me sober again. I remember the footsteps of my mom entering the hospital. She was broken, she looked absolutely shocked. The worst thing was that I didn’t feel a thing. And even in the weeks to come, I did not feel any emotion whatsoever, no anger, fear, happiness, or sadness. Everyone left, and I talked to some kind of psychologist. I can’t remember exactly what I told her, but I know she claimed to the doctor that I wasn’t ‘a thread to myself’. After that, they moved me to another part of the hospital.

Strangely, I couldn’t talk to my mom whom I grew up with most of my life, but instead I felt a strong connection to my dad. He sat on the hospital bed talked to me. After I promised the male nurse I wouldn’t do something bad to myself, my family left.

I had blocked the rest of the world off my emotions and hid my depression. No one saw it coming.

Writing this made me feel sad. I hope writing it all out will help me to go through with life.