The McSuicide Experiment: Suicide and Sex as the Equal and Opposite Reactions of Reproduction


I know this post is long with many words for your eyes. I don’t ask your mind to soak in moments of what to buy or what dress will slim the body companies ruined. Instead I ask you to indulge in the words below because you trust me. Because I put care into all of them and this is meant to be a serious post. Tomorrow it will be in drawings but today please eat my words.

Random bursting thought for you! I figured out a way to make this less intense (this is a future self from original posting edit). What if we can use new foods to access new parts of our mind =O

Maladapting Connections

If I can truly believe suicide, social anxiety, people hatred, ADHD, OCD, and mind disorders are due to maladaptive connections in the brain from having energy sources it does not know how to/cannot utilize then how can I still access all of the above when on a primal diet?

To elaborate: maladaptive is basically adapting to a situation in a way negative to social functioning. Basically the way a brain adapts to a situation or analyzes one and decides what to do.

In ADHD I believe we have problems accessing memories which makes it difficult to grasp the past, the present and the future considering most people use the past to decide the future. We also get trapped in connections and cannot escape/have hyperfocus. This does not make ADHD exciting. Excitement implies you want something to continue. I would rather be able to decide and control my focus rather than it control me.

Once you procrastinate something it almost becomes impossible to do. You are trapped in the connections of not doing it and it takes punishment or another idea or another human to a fierce degree to spark you out of it.

OCD is where you get so stuck on a compulsion you cannot escape it. Yet again you are trapped in connections. It is horrifying. Life becomes…impossible to connect to until you obsess over and over again. That barely even helps. I tend to obsess over a person to where I will think they can actually be watching me every moment of my life and refuse to act in ways they might disapprove of. Basically I would form my personality around what I believed they wanted. My fear was in not having a base (human love stability) and so that was the compulsion. The obsession was doing anything to keep or gain that base.

Another instance of my OCD was learning to type. I was having problems learning it and so started to type every word people would say out in my head. E.v.e.r.y. S.i.n.g.l.e. O.N.E. Eventually I could mind type as fast as people could speak. I thought that a success rather than about the pain and psychological issues it caused.

When mother said to think before I spoke I started to think of every single sentence before I spoke it. Then, because I was also obsessing over love, I would think of what every single person would think of that sentence before speaking it. I almost stopped speaking.

Then I obsessed over the fact I wasn’t speaking and that people were noticing and judging me (tinkerings of social seclusive fear) and obsessed over how to make them love me. Well to be who I knew they already enjoyed.

I forced myself to stop thinking. To obsess over every thought in order to stop it. The compulsion/fear was people not loving me (social seclusion) so I obsessed. I wonder if the fight or flight response hormone has to flow to make you obsess. The compulsion has to be juiced to flow and then we connect all over it.

These are disorders I took to extremes and violated my mind with. Or I suppose it violated me with. They are all forms of miswired connections or getting stuck in connections.

When our minds are no longer connecting how they should.

Connections in the Study

On day three of fast food I was already caught in connections:

“Overall it was happy dappy cheery freery times…until I couldn’t find my keys for work. At first rational calm Ainsley searched for them and then as time kept passing it was consumption, horrible overtaking consumption where it felt like I couldn’t handle  what was happening and all control was lost to the situation rather than solutions. I searched the same places over and over despite a pretty strong sane self hovering over me and saying that was silly, to look elsewhere, but I would look elsewhere and there were no keys so I stopped listening to that voice and looked in the fridge again” (2015). 

I tell you these things so you know more of what they are and also to know that I am faced with them. They do not make me special because they are explainable.

I was on energy drinks four times a day with sour patch kids dropped in as sugar. I ate sugar cubes dipped in icing when that was no longer enough and had Taco Bell often. We still had parents who fed us good food and didn’t know what we were doing with our allowance.

Parents you need to pay attention to what kids are doing with their allowance.

My twin attempted suicide around that time. She hasn’t even tried since then but we discussed it yesterday. She said after trying it…after getting that close she didn’t want to anymore.

I questioned existence to the point of wanting to end life but was a christian and mostly feared what would happen at death.

Animal  (free to your eyes from that link) is a book I wrote around this time and let me quote some of it for you: If you are sick of words you may click or touch here for the recording of the next moment.

(page 9)

“I have never cut.  It is not that there was never the desire to see on the outside what I could not see on the inside but…there was a night I walked in on my twin.  The door was barely opened so I went in.  Abbey was on the floor, her legs folded inward with her body’s unnatural position betraying the fact she had just hidden something.  Her eyes glew with malice, one of the happiest looks her eyes have ever given, the iris barely containing the thrill; it was as though they were getting pleasure from my pain and begging for more.  They were laughing at me.  What held her eyes held her.  For the first time I saw she was plastic, saw how she had been faking it this whole time and how blind I had been.  The glare in my eyes followed with the painful curiosity in my voice asking, “What were you doing?” With the laughter of a fairy’s deception she said, “Nothing.”  Her eyes crossed beneath the bed to the judgement in mine; before her hands could stop it I reached beneath the bed and found a kitchen knife.  Denial.  Denial.  Denial. Don’t let this be true.  Cheese.  Cheese she said, and my innocent soul latched on, begging me to believe.  She was just cutting cheese.  No.

“What were you doing before I walked in?” said a shaking voice posing as my own.  She lied again with an actual laugh taking the room. Pounding out demon tongues. Where had my twin gone. “Abbey!” Voice raised and filling the room louder I summoned truth. With the dropping of denial and a drop of desperation she said her other blade had rusted.  Then something came out, something that didn’t want me near, something that felt my weakness and could make me leave, the evil that had grabbed her and wasn’t giving her back.  It said to leave and I complied.  It said not to tell and I gave into its relentless mercy. I asked her to stop…she said that she didn’t know if she could. I took the knife and led its dry dripping leak into the stairs and to the kitchen, watching it the whole way.

Its tears took me and flowed into the bed.

When the person you care for most is cutting themselves…you don’t even see the desire for it closer than a street away, unable to touch you even though you can see it, even want it, know that you can call it closer and easily it will come.  Then you see your love touch it, cars crashing into her but she stands, clutching onto pain as though it’s keeping her up, no longer seeing you, no longer seeing how close you are, how desperate you are.  A street away she is, a street away am I.

She told me to never do it once the phase had “passed.”  For once you start you can’t stop, and even when you do the blade still calls you every time there is pain. Years and stories later.

Justin also cut, at the point the love was the fallacy.  It was crushing.  Just stop.

So I never started.

Abbey’s words, “I remember everything being mine but my eyes. (Daschofsky 22)”

Two identical twins. Both drinking energy drinks and candy and fast food. Both suicidal. Both with ADHD, OCD and depression.

Nature or nurture?

Then they put me on pills: Here is the recording of what that did.

“I have so much to do but she just keeps talking and talking why am I even writing!?!??!  Stop correcting me!  Everything keeps moving so fast


I can’t rely on pills.  I won’t take another!  I can’t concentrate  *lips scream*

He’s so gorgeous….

But why couldn’t he just speak to me?!  There are so many dates, so many course assignments! Keep up keep up!  I can’t have 19 hours it’s way too much

What to drop what to drop?

Tell me Tell ME


I AM writing this and writing this but you can’t help me.  Selfish widgets you are just starting and staring at my words




No I don’t

YES I do…no no

Nothing you can do…nothing you can do

Why am I so ugly?!

My hair won’t do what I want it to do.  Look hotter look hotter, but my face won’t work!

I was sexy before but noooooooo not now




Where has my beauty gone?!

And there my twin sits all happy and telling of her days looking so hot!  Why does she get to look so f&%#*#&^$g hot?!

Trade me!  Now!  Give me her clothes

What is it/?!  Why the fuck does she look better?!

Should I change my hair to hers….GODOGHESDIGDamn it!!  She’s just so much hotter then she stares at me even as I write


Wanting to fix me … why can’t I just be angry

Where is my control?!?!?!??!

I feel myself

I know this is insane

BUT IT WON’t stop


Every annoyance feels brutal and everthing is then calmimg

I hate life!!

Can I please take the pill?

I don’t want to rely.




The bed is supposed to be soft or something?!
















3435353Why do things KEEP POPPING UP???!!!!



Somehow it’s only ma GO away  .  … WORSE

HOW is she so CALM?

She is making me feel so insane

I hate talking

I hate it I hate it

Go the bloody fuck away!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chocolate reese’s are nice

She is touching me….it’s kinda working

*smile smile*

Imagining her hair catching on and fire and blowing backwards helped


Her eyes might even fall out!!  Maybe her eyebrows will singe!!!  =D =-D


Skin could rip down her neck.   Peel off even.  Then I could stick stuff in it!  =D

Her arms could fall off and I could wiggle them!!!!  =D

If I touched her nose it could go wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!” (Daschofsky 60).

Explaining Me Now

My twin’s face ripping off made me happy. That’s sick and I know it but now. Now I can explain it.It is mind sick because my mind was literally sick.

Those are mental disorders we talk about now. OCD. ADHD and I don’t think suicide is technically classified as one. Some version of that word should be because it makes sense. It might even be curable.


Watching another human die.

Why does that give people so much pleasure?

Some people.
I just realized the human who taught my horror films genre class was fat.

It gave me pleasure at sixteen. Right after eating a Reese’s. A word I didn’t even remember how to spell. …fuck…I just killed an ant out of desire. Accessing past connections..sigh. These are hard moments to connect to.

I had that pleasure again when on fast food. In fact I had it last night after sips of frozen margarita, a few tater tots and some shake. Tasted fine in the moment then I got pissed easily after fifteen minutes, desperately desired to leave and the only think that calmed me was imagining Jackson’s face ripping all the way down his body.

That’s no longer even shocking to me. That’s where the study switches into the suicidal side.

Our bodies actually trigger a need for death. Then we get pleasure at the ideas of other’s death. I didn’t enjoy the thoughts of people dying or being hurt for days on a ‘healthy’ diet and then the moment I trigger out of it those thought trigger in.

I am no longer suicidal but deeply was on day ten of the experiment. Self bias does not account for suicide. They were bodily reactions. My body went to the knife. My body had me imagine plummeting the knife into me and got joy from it. It was far more beautiful than life.

I had the same thoughts with a knife held to me days later. When the only thing that changed was being off fast food.


Before this was meant to be a blog about the potential of suicide and sex being equal and opposite reactions or reproduction. I am much more sure of it now. Now I want the idea to be spread and that means this blog will no longer feel like yours. For that I genuinely apologize. I wanted that experience for readers. To feel that you immersed with me into our own little world. Now we have to grow up though. I’ll be getting the book published then do an AMA on Reddit then actually start talking to neuroscientists. 

I will have to go into the accessing of past connections tomorrow for this post is quite long. I’ll cite myself later. If I notice I’ll sue me.

Well, that was intense…here have an adorable twin picture for your mind:

Published by

SI-Ya Ray

Greetings beautiful people. I bliss out over crafting new flavors, interviewing test makers and restaurant owners and discovering the brain.

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