My Struggle: Suicide
It is a personal choice. It is intimate only with the person it whispers to. No one else can hear it, no one else would understand the language it speaks anyways. For each person suffering in its grip there is no way to stifle it. Talking about it exposes one to ridicule, it is noted as a weakness. Judgments are passed, so frequently by those who will never know that pain. There is no sympathy for suicide, it is solely empathy that can speak to another about such inner turmoil. The cure cannot be found in the bottle of pills sitting in the bathroom cabinet. Nor is it found in the pages of a self-help book. Lord knows I’ve looked, I’ve swallowed everything that was offered out to me. The simple fact is that it is real. It is there, always with you. Whether prevalent in your thoughts, or tucked away in the back waiting for you to let your guard down. It will always be there with you. It is not your fault that you have these feelings, it is not wrong, it simply is.
I fight with these thoughts on a regular basis. I have what they call suicidal ideation. Now that sounds like I am fascinated with it, but I’m not. It couldn’t be further from the truth. What it does mean is that I cannot always control my thoughts and feelings, and that I have an oppressive urge, longing and desire at times to kill myself. It is funny saying that, because I really do not want to kill myself. I want to live freely like everyone else. I want to end the pain that boils inside of me, like a pressure cooker. Sometimes I just want it to subside. And it does at time and it does not. I see a therapist, I take my pills at bedtime. But even with the best of care, and an acute knowledge that dying is not the answer I still suffer with an agonizing hurt. I cannot cut it out, I tried that. I cannot control it with being locked up in a mental ward, I tried that too, a few times. Starving yourself does not work, I think now that my anorexia was just my way of try to have some control over my life. Drugging or drinking yourself into oblivion does not work, I always woke up the next day with the same problems. Geographical change never worked either, I was always still there with myself. Suicidal thoughts are insidious. They will always come back.
What it is for me now is something that I recognize, that I pay attention to, and I honor those feelings. I listen to them, and accept that they are there with me. I reach out to those who may not understand me, but may comfort me with their presence. I busy myself with doing something that is bigger then myself, to show those feelings that there is more going on then just them gnawing away at me. What caused my having PTSD will never go away, it is a part of me. It just is. It is not your fault. It is not my fault either, I never wanted this for myself, sometimes bad things just happen. There is not a thing you can do about it. Just be patient with me, with us, and understand that I must be with my feelings at times like this, and that it is okay. If someone decides that life is too much, please don’t feel it is something you could have prevented. Please don’t hate them or be angry because they took this path. You cannot begin to imagine what a person goes through to reach that point. Love them for who they were to you, and what they brought to you. Understand if you can that it really does hurt that much for some people, and it is beyond their control. Depression devours a person, it does not leave room for escape. It aches, it throbs, it splits your mind in two. It stands in the way of your loved ones from reaching you, it takes even the most simple of pleasures and puts it ever so slightly out of your reach. It blocks the sun, it grows stronger if you ignore it. If I believed in hell, I would say it was just like that, hell.
By no means do I advocate suicide, or not seeking the treatment that could help you. What I am saying is try to understand that some things in life are out of our control. They are bigger then us, that is all. We don’t win every time. Accepting a person’s choice is really all we have. Respect their journey, respect people like myself too, by no means are any of us weak. Some of the most courageous people I know are just like me, suffering in silence because we are afraid to open our mouths and not be understood. I have had enough rejection, I don’t need anymore. I have had enough sorrow, let me be, and I’ll find my way home. Understand that I love you for who you are, the way you are. Love me the same in return and I’ll know that no matter what I had a friend. Know that I was your friend too.
Blessings to all who have had suicide touch their life, be at peace.
Sugar Skully
