The beginning of the end
Trigger Warning: This post contains content about suicide.
07/11/2018
This was me four years ago. Every single page in this journal along with the other two journals I had, were filled with a repetitive tone of hopelessness. From the beginning to end, my emotional state was gradually descending. I was constantly battling my intrusive thoughts, they started to become uncontrollable, to the point where I became physically and mentally exhausted. I could barely keep up with the downward spiral of my depression, each day things were getting progressively worse. That’s when I started considering suicide as my only way out.
I would do whatever I could to make the idea of dying sound better than anything life could ever offer me. I started to believe those thoughts that persistently told me I was worthless, no one would miss me, and that I had absolutely nothing going for me. I talked down on myself every day. I pointed out every single flaw, I became my own worst enemy. I started missing work and I stayed confined to my bed, it was the only place I felt safe and didn’t have to pretend. I closed the curtains, and I shut off all the lights because I wanted the room to match the darkness that was living inside me. I laid there while my brain was on a repetitive loop of planning ways to escape from the chaos. Committing suicide became my motivational goal, it’s what I strived for the most. Every difficult day that I had would remind me why I was choosing not to be around much longer.
I distinctly remember the difference of weighing the options of dying and then ultimately accepting that it was the only choice I had. When you’ve dealt with depression for so long and you finally tell yourself that you won’t have to battle with your destructive thoughts for much longer, it makes you ironically feel more alive. My future felt like an unreachable void, I had nothing to live for, and now here I was living to die.
When people my age were figuring out their career goals and what classes they were going to sign up for in college, I was signing up for a pro-suicide forum. I remember searching through each thread on that site looking for the easiest, and peaceful way out. I reached out to complete strangers begging for their advice on the correct way to tie a knot in a noose, or which pills were going to be lethal. I became determined and dedicated. I allowed these strangers to persuade me into thinking I was making the right decision. I remember buying a certain kind of chemicals online to ingest, I remember going to the store and buying ropes and razors. I remember driving to parking garages and bridges, I remember drinking full bottles of vodka in my car and standing on the ledge. I remember driving under the influence, pressing my foot onto that gas pedal as hard as I could, hitting over 100, swerving all over the lanes, and anticipating my car crashing.
I was tired. I was lost. I didn’t want to exist; I was numb to everything around me. I felt so much guilt. There was this little voice inside of me that wasn’t ready to let go, but I tried to push it aside. It took a lot of substance abuse to work through those survival instincts that ended up leading to my major attempt in 2019. I was hospitalized immediately but being put into inpatient when you aren’t ready to accept help can make matters worse. It can make you angry, it can make you feel like a failure because you didn’t successfully follow through with something you’ve been putting so much effort towards. Let’s just say I was livid. I wanted out of there, I wanted to try again. I felt so stupid for getting caught. After that inpatient stay, it led to one more. The very last time I should say.
That was the turning point. This was finally the time where I said to myself,
“Trying to die is harder than trying to live.”
So, I decided to live.
I remember I used to say that life wasn’t my decision, so I should be able to choose if I wanted to die. But now I’m realizing that coming into this world has been a gift, not a chore. You get to wake up every morning to a second chance at life. If yesterday didn’t go the way you wanted it to, then you’re able to choose a different approach. Every single day is an endless possibility.
I’ve learned to accept all of the emotions I feel on a daily basis, but not allowing them complete control over my personality. I’ve learned to feel each one, but immediately letting them go. Never let them become you. I’ve learned losing friends is a way of life, especially if they were costing you from losing yourself in the process. Sometimes it’s better to be alone so you can focus on your own personal growth. Living alone has taught me many lessons, it has allowed me to enjoy my own company. It taught me that I am my own role model, I look up to the person I am today. I have accomplished many tribulations and yet I stand stronger than ever.
I won’t lie, there are moments where I feel as if these authentic feelings are fake and that they won’t last, so I have a hard time trusting and allowing myself to accept that I’m healing. I started learning to enjoy everything in the moment and to always put myself first. And that is the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
If you or anyone you know needs help or support or is currently suicidal, please call:
Suicide hotline: 988
OR TEXT
CRISIS hotline: 741741
OR VISIT
