Day 107: It’s an old friend
TW: Suicidal ideation
I’m having a hard time at the moment. It’s been building and I think it would be a good idea to talk about it before it gets bad. If you aren’t in a good headspace to read this, then you should probably turn away now. Otherwise, let’s get to it.
I’m okay, I am not going to hurt myself and if I was legitimately going to do so, I wouldn’t be here posting this. I don’t particularly have the time or energy to reassure each of you individually that I am okay, so please just take my word for it. This is one of my coping skills, if I don’t get this out then it will eat me alive. If you are legitimately concerned and want to show support or solidarity then please just say something nice that wont require a response. I don’t have the energy for responding, but I do read comments and they help me not feel so alone.
I don’t know what I would do if I ever woke up and didn’t think about killing myself. Life has never been easy. Things change so quickly in my life; I never have time to get used to one thing. The single constant in my life has been the perpetual thought that I should stop wasting people’s time, energy, and resources. I should just get it over with. I should just kill myself.
Dear reader, I don’t know everything in life, but I know that I do not have a choice in this feeling.
When I explain this lifelong feeling, my councilors typically react in one of two ways. The first way is probably the most dangerous. They don’t think it’s real. Clearly I’m exaggerating and it merely feels this way, but it’s not that bad. I need a change in the way I think, I need to look at life differently, I have a choice in the matter. Why don’t I choose to feel better? Dear reader, I don’t know everything in life, but I know that I do not have a choice in this feeling. This is why if you want to help, send well wishes, not suggestions. I live in my head, I know what I am feeling. As my counselors all seem to point out, I’m more introspective than most. Of everything that makes me, me, that is probably the thing keeping me alive.
The second reaction I get is possibly even less helpful than telling me to cheer up. I get the sad puppy dog look. The, “oh you poor thing” look. The look you give someone when they tell you they are dying slowly and painfully and there is nothing that can be done to stop it. Can you imagine how exhausting it is to have to reassure someone who is supposed to help me that I will find a way to live with it? What’s the point of coming to see someone if I am forced to help them cope with my issues?
Some days it’s just a gentle tug on the ankle pulling me down, other days its strong and rough hands around my throat holding me under the water without remorse.
I don’t know that I would call this feeling depression. I don’t know what I would call this feeling. I liken it to going to the beach. The sound of the ocean is calming, getting in the water is relaxing. Then, I swim out a ways. Suddenly something is pushing me under the water. I fight frantically to surface. To find the sweet release that comes with a breath of air. It never comes constantly enough. I fight and manage a gasp only to choke on the salt water in the process. This person, this thing trying so persistently to drowned me, that is what has been following me around in life. Some days it’s just a gentle tug on the ankle pulling me down, other days its strong and rough hands around my throat holding me under the water without remorse.
Most days I can take it. I fight for enough air. I make it through the day and start fighting anew the next. Some days, like today, I wonder if I will ever be able to find my way back to the surface. Maybe it’s better to quit fighting, to just give in and find a brief repose from this dark entity that follows more closely than my own shadow. A sweet release from my unseen tormentor. Somedays I think I would be willing to pay that price, any price.
If I don’t talk about it, I will never find where this thing following me stops and where I start.
Life is funny that way, people take for granted being able to breathe until every breath is a struggle. I don’t know if there is a way to fix whatever this is. If I’m being honest, I don’t know that I would be willing to part with the one constant in my life if there was. I do know that I need to talk about it because I’m not the only one. I need to talk about it, becuase if I don’t then I will never find the energy I need to keep fighting. If I don’t talk about it, I will never find where this thing following me stops and where I start.
I will be okay, this is just me trying to get some air. I have a lot going on the next few days and it thinks it will win. It won’t, we both know this, but it doesn’t stop it from trying with all its fervor. It’s an old friend, one that wants me dead, but today is not that day. So please, just let me get this out and if you too find yourself being persecuted by something like this, just know you’re not alone.