“I don’t blame anyone for anything that took place or took a toll on me, I blame myself. It’s really hard for me to explain the feelings I’m having, but they’ve been happening since middle school. It’s an emotional roller coaster, and I’m ready to slow down the ride, completely. I love you, whoever is reading this. I just couldn’t do anymore. I know you may be asking, “why”?..there’s too much detail, but I promise it’s not your fault. I just can’t find a reason for me to be here anymore, and that’s why I think that I just shouldn’t be.-”
The past paragraph was a suicide note I found in an old notebook tonight, I had actually temporarily forgotten about it. I’ve written about suicide before on my blog, but reading something like this that I wrote, vividly took me back into the moment that I had written it. Very, very personal post.
It all started in middle school, when I began feeling stupid and “weird” because I didn’t do too well academically, and I didn’t have too many friends at the beginning. I was having thoughts about death at 11 years old, even though I didn’t know shit about it yet. I suppressed the feeling, because I always felt like my parents were too busy with adult things, so over time I kept the habit of suppression.
In high school, I migrated into a school hours away from my friends (who are still my friends today, thanks guys) and the town was a mega culture shock. I always looked for outside acceptance, I made friends, but none of them were really “Friends”. I would speak sarcastically about suicide, just to turn my subconscious thoughts into humor (suppression). I wasn’t bullied or anything, so I always felt like there was nothing to talk about.
I graduated, moved back to my hometown, and things got really, really bad. I felt like there was a horde of leaches sucking at my brain, constantly giving me a sad feeling throughout the day. I didn’t tell anyone, because I didn’t want them to worry. I ignored myself, because I thought that I was already gone.
My mom called me one day, and after a normal conversation, she asked me what was wrong;
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, maybe that’s your problem?”
I hung up the phone, and began to have the first mental breakdown that lead to many, because I knew she was right. She still is.
No one besides few friends know about what happened within the time span of my depression in 2016, I’m even scared to write about it but I will, because there’s many out there who need some kind of encouragement.
After work, I would come home and take a Valium, very carelessly, because I did not give a fuck about myself or give a fuck if I died from taking too many. I wanted to sleep immediately, because I needed to shut my mind off for peace. I would lay in bed with my eyes closed until it made me fall asleep, battling why I shouldn’t off myself. It was always; “Too many people love me, I can’t hurt all of those people.”
When I came to realize that I wasn’t taking care of myself, and practically in the process of dying, I had an even bigger meltdown, moved home and began going to therapy. I stopped, because she told me I shouldn’t be with someone, and I knew that she was right. I knew that I second guessed myself, I knew that I was hurting myself, I knew that I was lying, I knew that I needed to talk. I just wouldn’t let myself. I’ve gotten better, but the dark feeling still lingers there.
Though, I know that it gets better, life has it’s ups and downs, but that’s a different story.
I am happy that I didn’t finish the letter, and I am happy to be alive. I have many people that make me smile, and many things that I love. I could not bare the thought of my little sister walking past my room every day, wondering if she’s going to hear obnoxious music when she walks by. I didn’t want my parents to blame themselves, and I didn’t want my friends to think they could have done more. Life has it’s ruts, and I’m just working on being stronger to overcome them. I am happy I get to see smiling faces, hear music, and eat dinner with my family. The sky is my favorite thing in the entire universe, and each day I am happy to get to see the sun set. Life is worth living, it’s all about the experience, and it is truly a beautiful one.
moved 