Suicidal Thoughts

They always try to make out like it is this great thing when you have stopped trying to kill yourself. People say when was your last suicidal thought – a week ago, month ago – but all I think is everyday. Sure some days, it is not all that bad. If they really wanted to listen and know the truth, I would tell them even on good days, I think about killing myself. Yesterday, I stepped out into the road without even looking even though I was having a great day. Sometimes, I will light up a cigarette or starve myself. These may not look like suicide attempts to you. That is what it means though, to be suicidal. I cannot go a single day without hurting myself somehow. So although you think it might be great that I have not overdosed or slit my wrists or hung myself, you are seeing what you want to. I am not living as a person should. If you listened, you would know that I cannot escape it. You would know that I do not choose it. It is not this simple decision. It is this fight in which you either win or die trying.


Being Suicidal

So many people thing that suicidal thoughts are just this simple thing you can overcome. They think that depression is a state of mind and you can just choose to be happy. Well, they are ignorant. It is not easy to be this way. It is a continuous battle. Unfortunately, there are only two options here – win or die trying. I am suicidal. I always think that maybe I am no longer suicidal as the days pass since the last suicide attempt and there are no plans for another in the near future. I wonder why I do it…do I want love? attention? is it to end the pain?

I can be happy for a while. I smile. I laugh. I talk to people. I go outside. It just suddenly goes away with no explanation and the thoughts are there. Actually, I think they are always there. I do not think they ever go away. I think that there are simply distractions so that you do not notice them. I live too dangerously to not be suicidal. Even in my happy moments, I am pushing limits. I think that is what being suicidal means. Taking too many risks knowing full well the dangers. Not living. I feel as though I am merely existing. It is a little tragic. It is all that I know now.

I hope to one day break the cycle. To be able to say that I will never go back to contemplating suicide, because I have so much to live for. Every time I say it now, I know that it is true, but it just will not sink in. I can never believe it. I tell myself that this is only temporary. One day, it will stick and I will be so glad that I held on. If I die though, I do not think it is some kind of crime. I can honestly say that I do not know whether it takes more strength to die or to hold on. Either way, I am trying to be strong. I will see where that lead me.


I am a coward. I am scared of the truth. I am scared to write because the truth comes out. I am scared to die, because I do not want to forget to say goodbye to someone and destroy the rest of their life. I do not want to be selfish. I want to be strong enough to live, but whenever I gain strength, I always end up thinking that this time: I will be strong enough to die. This limbo of not knowing what takes more courage is painful. I want the pain to end. I try. I fight. I am strong. Why did no one tell me how to do it? Why did no one teach me? I feel so unequipped for this life.

I become so haunted all the time. Mistakes, regrets, what ifs….why do we do it to ourselves? Why can I not stop seeing the faces, the moments that cause nothing but pain? Why does it still hurt? Why do I want to stop so badly that I really would give up? What is this pathetic existence? It is not a life. I can tell you that. I am not living anymore. I am merely existing. I want to scream so loud for someone to come and save me, but no one is coming. I know that I am the only one to save myself. If I was not such a coward, maybe I could do it.

This pain is completely horrendous. Fighting everyday is exhausting. Faking that smile and pretending that you just got a bad night’s sleep when in reality you spent the night reliving every hurt over and over until you truly wished you ceased to existence. Then having to fight that feeling, whilst staring at yourself wondering how you got here, wondering how it all went so wrong. That is where I struggle. I tell myself, hold on for them. For the ones it will hurt, because no one should have this pain. Why can I not hold on for me? Why have I become so worthless, so unimportant, so meaningless that I feel I have nothing left but other people? How did this happen? I need to undo it….but where do I start?