This is the saddest thing I’ve ever read. I found it at Gizmodo, a technology blog that isn’t known for being exactly warm and fuzzy.
If you know someone like Bill Zeller, or if you are someone like Bill Zeller, please, please reach out to him or her.
And please pass this along.
That’s all, except my apology if the software that creates “related stories” is showing you anything, and for the adverts that run here (they run on all our posts and our design doesn’t permit us to turn them off selectively).
Ironically, I’m sure Bill would have known what to do.
I did not know the man and I don’t suffer having had an abusive past, but through this letter I could feel his pain, his torment and his utter despair. I cried through the entire letter. I will never forget how I felt reading it. And I will never forget the man’s pain. Pain is too weak a word to begin to describe how completely his feeling, emotions, spirituality and everything else about him were hijacked by this tragedy. And I simply can’t, for my own sanity, begin to consider how many other fellow human beings suffer this same living hell.
I’m a 56 year old man, who has lived a life of extremes, in every sense. I no longer fear anything, except perhaps immortality. I am rarely, if ever, surprised by anything. I tend to keep people at a distance because I am very sensitive to their “energy” and have to remain on guard so as not to absorb too much of their “pain” – again, a simplified use of the word. I suffered my own personal tragedies, many self-constructed, survived years that amounted to committing a slow suicide and the one actual sleeping pill OD attempt, moved beyond the frustration and sheer madness of trying to find my purpose, made peace with my spiritual beliefs, continue to struggle with addictions (alcohol, replaced by methamphetamine, to be replaced by?)and continue on doing what I do best. I survive.
I’m not sure what I am trying to express. I just know that reading this letter made me need to post my first ever comment on the internet. I certainly agree with Jeff’s plea to pass this along and for anyone who suffers the same, or knows someone who does, or interacts with someone who suffers this way to PLEASE, PLEASE reach out. In my daily interactions I try to let people know that I care and I always can find time to listen. Please be aware that many, many times when someone chooses to confide in you, or presents themselves as wanting your opinion or your help with something, what they really want and need is just for someone to listen. Not offer advice, tell them what they should do, try to solve the problem, judge them, or anything EXCEPT LISTEN. Help somebody today and every day by resisting the urge to talk and be more supportive and a much better friend by stepping off the soapbox and just listen. I decided against finishing my Master’s in Psychology, for the time being at least, where my focus was on working with Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender youth, many of whom suffer a past or current life of abuse, which is a contributing factor to this population group having the highest suicide rate. Words do not begin to describe the tragedy of this. But for me the time is not right. Maybe this is the time to re-evaluate and that is why I came across this posting. There are no coincidences.
In closing I can only say I so admire and respect Bill for having the courage and strength to evaluate and make the decision that he did and follow through with what had become, to him, the only solution left. And he is the only person who has the right to make that decision. To the rest of us, it is an event that we observe to have happened, but other than acknowledging it’s existence, that is it.
How much i can relate to this sad story, Im 45 and very unhappy with my years of personal nitemares that i lived with since ive been, 8 years old. its been many years off and on that ive had a need to be loved and always finding it in all the wrong places and wrong people.Ive always had such a hard time makeing friends or men who didnt want to like me unless i made it worth it to them, So my need to be loved made me serach out love not thinking about how they treated me even when it was such abuse, that at times i didnt know if i would make it out alive.!!! my family spent more years, days months , mins , secs , wondering , worrying, and panicing everytime the phone rang, wondering if it was the call that i was no longer here , and that was so unfair, and has caused me to careing a tramendice amount of guilt and hate for myself!!! My need to self medicate and self distruct has cost me relationships that where the only ones i had left in my life, My two daughters our the only two accomplishments that i have to show for, Thank you GOD!!! for giveing me the two best things that i have in my life.With that said, my children that our 25 and 21 now have not turned out like me at all!!!, somehow they our nouthing like me…..Ive wanted to find that place they call eternity, where i can never hurt, let down , or worry anyone anymore with my bad choices, and bi polar , depressed thoughts…..I dont know day to day if i will be here on earth, but i just want all of this pain and lonelyness to go away!!!! I LOVE all of my family!!! mom dad brenda , mason , ty, bill, samantha, amanda , lee, jeff, john, and alfie please forgive me and never take depression as a need for attention, its NOT!!! its what i am and whats taken over me , listen please to anyone who is reaching out for someone to listen !!!!! no one heard me!!!!!
Please email me [email protected]
I think you and I have ALOT in common and something is telling me to contact you. Im 45 with 2 girls as well and so close to ending it all at this point.
Life. It is a burden only a small portion of the earth’s population can’t handle. My name is Wysti, and I am only 12 years old. I don’t remember much, but I do remember the four green walls, and a hallway which seemed to never end. The room was forever stagnent and I had lay there, victom to my own father. He told me, “Your beautiful, and your mine.” which made no sense at the time.. but it continued. And I was raised like this, raped and abused. He often grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down the stairs to his bedroom. I whispered to myself each night, “One day..one day it will be you crying.”
July 3rd, 2012 is the only day I shall never forget. Right before the fourth of July, I tried to run. Being young, I didn’t make it far, but I had the chance to change it. I walked along the side of the road until I came across my friend Diego’s house. I walked up the driveway trying not to seem too nervous. When I knocked his mother (Lisa) answered a minute later. She let me stay and wait for him to get back home. As I waited I heard my father yelling my name, and I saw him slowing driving by looking for me. I shuddered and ducked behind a patio chair waiting for him to pass by. Lisa looked at me confused and didn’t say anything about it.
When Diego got home I broke out into tears, he walked me into the house and I told him everything. He told me the same thing everyone else did, “Don’t tell anyone.” And that’s when I realized I was alone. I told my grandmother, and she also told me to stay quite. This continued until Febuary 2015. Somehow.. as if god finally took pitty on me, the cops came and took him away. Though I was to shocked to tell them anything. So they sent me to school as if everything was fine, like the bruises and cuts meant nothing. And I went on with my day for about three hours until my mother, who had divorced him, came to pick me up early. I was thrilled to see her, for he only let me visit her once or twice a year. But the look she had on her face was enough to make me keep quite. And we left without a word. Nobody talked to me, nobody told me what happened. I was silenced by my own mind.
I started school in a different school, after a long month break. Though everyone stared at me like I was some poor homeless child, and to be honest, I almost felt like one. My mother hadn’t been the richest. Nor had my dad, but he still had a better pay check. And I was stck wearing tattered old clothing from the 1980’s. I smelled bad, looked like I was just beaten to anear death experience, and on top of all that, I was new. The school had soo many stairs and I had to trudge up every set at least 10 time in a hour. Now you may think that doesn’t sound to terrible, but I have a limp in my walk making the pain worse. It sucked.
The thing about school, is all the teachers either adore me or feel sorrow for me. But tehy only liked me because I listened well. It was how I was raised though, to do as I was told. And I grew up thinking I am weak. And after wearing the “Oh, I’m okay.” mask for so long, I really did grow weak. And ever since.. I have been bullied for being different. For being ugly, stinky, weak, and most of all.. without a life. It is now October 2016, and I am not even near to the recovery court had hoped I would recieve. I go through multiple therapy sessions, staying home along everyday, and reading books high over my grade level. And now.. well now I am considering giving in. If everyone wants me gone, why not just kill me yourself?! But fine, I’ll do the work. Because that’s all I do best, work. This is only a few pages out of my diary. But hey, thanks for reading it. Not all birds are meant to fly.
Hey my name is Chelsea Baxter and I got raped by my father too. He would beat me. It all started when I was 5years old and went one for 6 years getting raped and beat. Once he even tried to hang me but my little brother walk down. And I feel like my life is a mistake an that I don’t belong here. I even tried to cut my main vain but it didn’t work either. So I know what u r going through. I thought there would never be another person out there who also got abused but there is a lot of girls who get abused everyday and we just happen to be one of those girls. Im sorry u had to go through that I will pray for u
This is my first ever comment on the internet. I cannot say that I know what happened to you but I do know this that you are here right.. You are just 12 plzzzz don’t kill yourself… give yourself a chance.. life sucks I agree but sometimes u never know whaf might happen tomorrow. j m not asking you to stay alive for your mother or anyone else it’s just for you. let your wings grow atleast and then try to fly.Living is hard sometimes but do it for yourself. LIVE
I too want to end this life for different reason, but this is not the solution instead we could help other person who going through similar situation. please don’t feel bad. you are very good. you wrote well, your writing style is good. you can be motivational writer by just altering your view and drop suicidal idea. be inspiration and help other.
Please don’t kill yourself. It is NOT the right solution. You are not crazy or need to die. No one needs to die. Death is a disgusting thing. You are only 15 or 14 years old. Your mind is still growing. Maybe meds and therapy aren’t the right thing for you. People bully you because they hate themselves and see a bit of them in you. By hurting you, they hurt that part of them. Your dad is a worthless piece of trash. I wish I could find you and take care of you. And yes not all birds are meant to fly, but peacocks actually don’t fly, and they are the most beautiful birds alive.xoxo manic depressive and schizophrenic from South Africa.
Gene, your comment was so thoughtful and beautiful. i haven’t felt suicidal, but have dealt with severe depression. it just breaks my heart to think of someone in their final moments, writing this and feeling so absolutely alone. your comment warmed my heart a little bit.
I’ve read this letter once before. I have been reading suicide letters all day so far, because it’s something to which I can relate.
There have been a series of unfortunate circumstances which took place in my life over the past couple of months, and it has risen the depression within me that I’ve had since I can remember.
It’s difficult not giving in to the temptation of death… For some, it seems to be the only way out.
I won’t delve into anything specific, because the letter above, as well as the comments describe it well. Yet I still struggle to keep moving forward, when it seems that for every door I open, many more close themselves from me…
I guess I’m writing this comment as a way to cope with the mounting grief that bombards me, as well as to acknowledge the fallen, and their bravery for following through with a very difficult decision and method.
I struggle now with words to describe both how I feel about the letter, and about how I have been feeling. It’s difficult to cope with it alone, especially when nobody wishes to reach out other than professionals.
I guess this is just the comment of another lost soul wandering aimlessly through the vastness of the internet, in the search to find something other than the inevitable.
If there is someone who has given up, and wants it to end, reach out and simply be there for the individual… I failed in that task once, and pay for it daily.
So few people in the world care anymore, as though they have become too desensitized to it all. And that’s only natural, because it’s a means of self-preservation, but it doesn’t make it any less isolating and painful for others…
I guess that’s all I have to say… Thank you sincerely to the above commentators who have a genuine sense of empathy and compassion, because that is rare. Keep being awesome, and never give up on people.
… I’ll keep trying… Somehow…
I am truly sorry for your pain. I too feel the responsibility for the demise of another. I send this guilt to a pocket in my mind, There not to be forgotten, but to bar it from being in the for front. Otherwise the guilt would guide me and hold me in depression. On occasion I allow it to come to the for front. I grieve. I don’t allow it to occupy my thoughts long for I know it will take over. Soon I push it back to where it belongs. I consciously do this as if it were a procedure. I try to control my brain instead of allowing it to lead me to places I rarely want to go. I know it sounds strange, but it works for me.
As they say, food for thought.
I completely understood Bill Zelller’s goodbye. His decision belonged to him and only him. He did the right thing. I agree with him on several points. The one he referenced on how some people are just dealt a crappy hand in life and that’s just the way it is. I don’t know what’s out there in the great “beyond”. But, I do agree with him as far as what kind of “God” would be so ruthless to send our souls to eternal hell? For not being “saved”?! As he said, a child rapist can go to heaven if a mortal priest or other random religion “saves” them – but, the victim can end up in hell! Well, like Bill, I’ve lived in hell all my life. I hate this world. I hate the hypocrisy and the corruption and the cold hearted bastards who’s shitty actions cause so much pain. I’ve always had the most awful feeling that I was a mistake of the universe – that my life wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s not based on just one reason – it’s based on so many shitty things I’ve had shoved at me as far back as I can remember. I was a victim of the same disgraceful actions – my grandfather, my father, my brother and his friend – I grew up broken. I was always trying to fix things in my family – always feeling responsible for other people and their misery. I had an older sister that was a mean little bitch and she, along with my mother never missed an opportunity to humiliate me. I was treated like shit and was the modern day mutation of the “cinderella” story. Here I am now – 2 grown kids, grandkids and the pos I was married to beat the living hell out of me on a regular basis – pregnant – and to this day that pos holds a vile, toxic rage towards me – he married a female version of himself and god knows how many times I wished them both dead. But, that never happened and after I left him a lifetime ago he chose not to see his kids for 10 years. Then he came back into their lives and the 2 of them have done all they can to convince my kids and grandkids that I’m a slutty bitch that caused horrible pain and suffering – WTF!? So much pain in this world for me – I hope to join Bill Zeller although I’m not sure when or if I’ll make that same decision. But, if I do – it’s my right to choose.
Hang in there … ?
Don’t say things like that. Suicide isn’t the right answer for anyone. You could encourage a vulnerable individual.
Also, many churches WON’T save you if you’ve, let’s say, killed someone. God won’t forgive THAT sin.
My sister committed suicide 4 months ago after a lifelong battle with depression. I don’t know what caused it – just know that we had a childhood filled with fear, shame and embarrassment darkly overshadowed by an abusive alcoholic father. Now I know that she was too soft to fight the fear and abuse. I feel so guilty. I tried to be there for her but she never shared. Was I one of those crappy people that she could/would not confide in? This letter made me cry. Parts of it feel like she was writing it. I feel that I will never accept her death, nor overcome my guilt. I am angry also that she never reached out (or did she?) and that she hid the last desperate and despairing months/ years of her life with me. She tried to write a novel which she left to me and quoted this passage “Or were such people really wandering so deep inside, on a broken landscape, so intent on minding their own footing that the world outside receded?” Jacquelyn Mitchard – The deep end of the ocean. My heart is broken
I suffered from pretty severe depression from the ages of 12 to 26. I had a variety of suicide attempts from the age of 14 to 23. I remember, with absolute certainty, saying I’d die before 30. I remember going home from a bar and trying to hang myself from my ceiling fan before taking the whole thing down when I was 22. I remember thinking that I’d leave a lengthy suicide note to justify the ‘why’.
I’m 36 now and that desire is out of me. I have two young children, but that feeling was gone years before they were born. I’m happy. Despite the wreckage I left from those years I’m extremely successful. I don’t want to imply that treatment (which I never stuck with) is necessary, but things do change, the world, you yourself. I’m stuck with the literal scars that I hide during business meeting but I’m happy. The storm that was my mind in my 20s has been overcome. Every time I read something like this I think ‘any one can be any one, reinvent’. But those scars from early abuse never leave. I never experienced that myself but have friends in that boat and an overriding fear for my two young sons. Not sure where this is going, but things change, you change. Cutting that off early is ‘current you’ making decisions for ‘future you’ that may be vastly different than you today.
I am 13 and I have been abused from the age of 2 to the age of 10 and I can relate to slot of what he has gone through I am scared of getting close do anyone in fear of being abused or raped again and I’m sorry for anybody else who has had to go through any of this no matter how old or young nobody should have to go through any of what some of us have gone through. I’m so so so so so sorry.
Jamie, that’s awful.
I know you said you are afraid of getting close to anyone, but I hope you’ll try to think of someone in your life you can trust and ask them what to do.
essay competition ?
Not so far as I know. Cynical much, Kit?
DEAR BROKEN FRIEND
.IT IS AS IF YOUR MIND AND MY MIND WERE WEAVED TOGETHER IN THE ANGUISH.THE DARKNESS FOLLOWS ME WHEREVER I GO ASWELL INFECTING,RUINING,TORTURING.IF I AM CAPABLE OF LOVE.I THINK JUST MAYBE I LOVE YOU.FOR PUTTING SO MUCH INTO WORDS THAT HARM MY SOUL.REST IN PEACE MY DEAR DEAR FRIEND REST IN PEACE.
I to tried to end my life 12-15 years ago. I believe I did so much damage I don’t fully recall. This much I remember, I woke being generally unhappy and at 11:00 am took all of the psych med scripts I had to the pharmacy and I had them filled. I checked into our local hotel and piled them all (Damon near 500 pills) onto the bed of my room. I knew I had to eat them fast and I did. My daughter figured out something was wrong and convinced my husband to try to find me after 3hours. But how? In steps my son and he says to track my bank card. How they convinced my bank I’ll never know. I didn’t want anyone to find me and cared enough to try to be found by an anonymous person not family who I continue to love. My husband and my daughter and son convinced the owner of the hotel to tell them where I was and open my room where they found me barely alive. I was transported to the nearest hospital and put on a ventilator for 5days(I don’t remember any of this). My regret is that I wasn’t allowed to leave my constant companion, pain. And my husband and children found me. This will always cause pain. And headache.
I’m truly sorry to hear how sad you were, and are. And I’m imploring you to “snap out of it”.
Now, I’m not a therapist, and I expect there are a gaggle of them who would tell me that isn’t how you speak to someone in … ANY … kind of pain. But I’m gonna stick with it. I’ve known a couple of people who tried to end their lives, and I know people who have had others close to them succeed at it.
It is, of course, not a success at all. Aad I think you know that.
Please look at what’s great in your life. I know you know there’s plenty. You mentioned your family; look no further.
Be. Happier. Because that’s what you want. I promise.
To you dear victims. I am Bills Aunt. There were know charges brought against Bills father, the duspected perpetrator. He is still The Pastors Assistant at Middletown Bible Church, Middletown Ct. The Bible is still open on the kitchen table, but Bills name is under the rug that was shoved in the closet. I plead with the real G-d. He hears my mournful cry. Keep crying people. Do not be silent.
I keep reading this every few months, you’re his aunt and know about what happened to him?