The problem with cries for help is that people invariably don't come running, and even if they do, there's nothing they can do or that you want them to do. Primary reason for lack of alacrity is a fundamental human belief that people are never honest. Tell people the truth and they don't believe you, they have nothing they can do with it, it becomes filed away with every other lie that they've been told. Secondary, teritary reasons, all pale into insignificance because honesty doesn't exist, but somewhere down the line is the nub: that there is nothing that can be done. Stop the bleeding and it doesn't deny the existence of wrists and blades (big, thick ones that leave big, thick scars, not those lazy razor blades, pencil sharpener blades that you can pretend never existed if - or when - the bleeding is stopped). It's not just a death thing - in fact it's not even a death thing; death, in this instance is a metaphor.
Oh those poor people, wanting to help but feeling so impotent. You do have to feel sorry for them, because they can't feel sorry for themselves, at least consciously. ...Well maybe that's a start, maybe the only actual thing that can be done is feel sorry for the people who feel they should feel sorry for you, because they're not allowed to feel sorry for themselves. There's a sublime vicissitude here that's made me smile (well, smile on the inside at least - although the smile on the inside thing just made me smile on the outside. Oh how beautiful this all is. Find a point, and let debris attach to it).
The other thing to do is find something you can do: no-one else can help; self-help must sit uncomfortably with self-gratification and self-mutilation. Snap out of it. Find something you can do. Wandering humming offers much, but not enough. If it calls for closed eyes, held breath and no movement then go for that. Watch the pulsating swirl of your eyeballs behind their lids, feel the bass save you with its cardiac massage. If it calls for lots of water, and pissing and vomiting in a saucepan before pouring it down the sink, just so you don't have to leave your cultural heartland when you're wandering, closing, holding, then go for that. Feel the smell. Without smell we're senseless beasts - where 0=4, or less if we're damaged. Learn though: you can't hold your breath when vomiting; it's just not possible and you'll end up choking and dying if you try.
Even that won't really help. Don't be hard on the others: if you can't help yourself what hope do they have? Be hard on yourself: why don't you know what will fix you? Why don't you know what you want? Why don't you want anything? Why isn't there anything that'll work? Why are you so shallow that you're content one moment and dead the next? Why are you asking questions instead of solving them? Why don't you cry enough? (I still say viscitude is a nicer word).