commit suicide

Living With Mental Illness Is Hard But It Is Worth It To Fight Like Hell To Stay Alive

There is a saying that "life is precious" but sometimes it does not seem that way

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Living with depression and PTSD along with an unspecified personality disorder can take a toll on a person, especially if they been abused, lost friendships, and feel alone. It took me a while to realize that just because people act crappy towards me does not mean that it was my fault, I didn't deserve them and the actions they had done towards me.

Before then, I lived in constant anger, resentment, and regret to the point that I felt very hopeless and thought that I did not amount to anything. I remember it like it was yesterday that I had tried to take my life, and the next day, when I had woken up alone in my room, I felt a mixture of fear, relief, and anger. I was scared because I did not know what to do next, relieved I was still living, but mad that I woke up to see another day.

Most people who do not understand depression and mental illness do not realize that it wasn't that I hated life and was ungrateful, but it was because I was suffering from pain that was unbearable and I wanted to end that pain.

Before my attempt, I was facing a lot. From abuse to transitioning to college and the real world, I was feeling overwhelmed. I remember feeling like I would never be good enough to make my mom proud. That I would be a failure in life just like my own mother had always told me. No matter how much I had done in my life, the bar for me was always low and that just caught up with me. The night of my attempt I was mad at the world and at everyone who had done things to hurt me. Some may ask me why I had never attempted to hurt anyone as revenge and my motto was that I would rather hurt myself before I hurt anyone else. Even to this day that still holds true.

The night I had attempted suicide I convinced myself that the world would be better without me and that my parents hated me and wanted me gone. I honestly do not know if that is really true, but one thing I know now is that I have friends who care and would be devastated.

I remember the shock from my friends when I told them about my attempt. Words of support and concern came and I immediately broke down and started to feel so bad about what I had done. I remember those moments when one of my friends told me how much I meant to her and how I was like a sister. I also remember how most of my friends would tell me how I had impacted their lives.

One thing that would always stick to me was that I was always there for people and they can be themselves around me. After that, I felt sorry. Since then I had been fighting like hell to stay alive. It is hard but at the end of the day, it is worth the fight. Every day I wake up I put on a positive attitude no matter how crappy my life is and just go through with my day. When I feel down, I think about all the people I had made an impact on and that motivates me to try harder.

In life you cannot always make people happy, even the ones who raised you but at the end of the day as long as you have a few good friends who have your back you are going to be okay.

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To The Person Who Feels Suicidal But Doesn't Want To Die

Suicidal thoughts are not black and white.
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Everyone assumes that if you have suicidal thoughts that means you want to die.

Suicidal thoughts are thought of in such black-and-white terms. Either you have suicidal thoughts and you want to die, or you don't have suicidal thoughts and you want to live. What most people don't understand is there are some stuck in the gray area of those two statements, I for one am one of them.

I've had suicidal thoughts since I was a kid.

My first recollection of it was when I came home after school one day and got in trouble, and while I was just sitting in the dining room I kept thinking, “I wonder what it would be like to take a knife from the kitchen and just shove it into my stomach." I didn't want to die, or even hurt myself for that matter. But those thoughts haven't stopped since.

I've thought about going into the bathroom and taking every single pill I could find and just drifting to sleep and never waking back up, I've thought about hurting myself to take the pain away, just a few days ago on my way to work I thought about driving my car straight into a tree. But I didn't. Why? Because even though that urge was so strong, I didn't want to die. I still don't, I don't want my life to end.

I don't think I've ever told anyone about these feelings. I don't want others to worry because the first thing anyone thinks when you tell them you have thoughts about hurting or killing yourself is that you're absolutely going to do it and they begin to panic. Yes, I have suicidal thoughts, but I don't want to die.

It's a confusing feeling, it's a scary feeling.

When the depression takes over you feel like you aren't in control. It's like you're drowning.

Every bad memory, every single thing that hurt you, every bad thing you've ever done comes back and grabs you by the ankle and drags you back under the water just as you're about the reach the surface. It's suffocating and not being able to do anything about it.

The hardest part is you never know when these thoughts are going to come. Some days you're just so happy and can't believe how good your life is, and the very next day you could be alone in a dark room unable to see because of the tears welling up in your eyes and thinking you'd be better off dead. You feel alone, you feel like a burden to everyone around you, you feel like the world would be better off without you. I wish it was something I could just turn off but I can't, no matter how hard I try.

These feelings come in waves.

It feels like you're swimming and the sun is shining and you're having a great time until a wave comes and sucks you under into the darkness of the water. No matter how hard you try to reach the surface again a new wave comes and hits you back under again, and again, and again.

And then it just stops.

But you never know when the next wave is going to come. You never know when you're going to be sucked back under.

I always wondered if I was the only one like this.

It didn't make any sense to me, how did I think about suicide so often but not want to die? But I was thinking about it in black and white, I thought I wasn't allowed to have those feelings since I wasn't going to act on them. But then I read articles much like this one and I realized I'm not the only one. Suicidal thoughts aren't black and white, and my feelings are valid.

To everyone who feels this way, you aren't alone.

I thought I was for the longest time, I thought I was the only one who felt this way and I didn't understand how I could feel this way. But please, I implore you to talk to someone, anyone, about the way you're feeling, whether it be a family member, significant other, a friend, a therapist.

My biggest mistake all these years was never telling anyone how I feel in fear that they would either brush me off because “who could be suicidal but not want to die?" or panic and try to commit me to a hospital or something. Writing this article has been the greatest feeling of relief I've felt in a long time, talking about it helps. I know it's scary to tell people how you're feeling, but you're not alone and you don't have to go through this alone.

Suicidal thoughts aren't black and white, your feelings are valid, and there are people here for you. You are not alone.

If you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline — 1-800-273-8255


Cover Image Credit: BengaliClicker

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Dear Anxiety, Thank You For Everything You Do And What You Make Me Do

My anxiety definitely isn't an easy thing to handle, but I wouldn't give it up for the world.

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I've always been a worrier. As long as I can remember, I've spent hours upon hours overthinking even the simplest of things, like whether or not something I mentioned in passing twelve years ago could have upset someone. Even ask my mom, she'll tell you all about the times I used to worry about silly little things since I was able to really worry about things at all. Now, worrying about literally everything that crosses my mind may seem like a hassle, and it is, but I truly don't think I would be where I am today without it.

Anxiety is a bitch. There, I said it. Short and sweet. It sucks, in all honesty, and is one of the hardest things to overcome that I have ever experienced in my lifetime (Not that it's been all that long, but you get what I mean here, right?) I spend so much time worrying that I barely take the time to sit back and look at how much I have accomplished rather than how much I have left to do. For example, I have four assignments and exams standing between me and summer but am I focusing on how little that is to do? Nope. I am spending every waking hour panicking about when and how I'm going to finish that work when I know full well that I have more than enough time to do so.

Yes, my anxiety keeps me from seeing the positives sometimes, but it really does motivate me. I mean, why else would I be up at three in the morning writing a paper that's due in a week when I work at 7 a.m. and have more than enough time in the next week to do it? Thanks to anxiety, I'll be exhausted for the next 24 hours, but hey, that work that doesn't need to be done for a long time is done and I can sleep later. Or so I think right now. I'm sure some little assignment or task will pop up that I have to finish by June that I feel the need to cram for right now.

So I guess this is my thank you to my anxiety. Thanks for motivating me by causing daily breakdowns over dropping a bobby pin behind my mini fridge or a page long paper that I have to turn in in two months. Thank you for keeping me on my toes constantly and pushing me so hard that I somehow ended up so far ahead in my classes. Where would I be without you? Probably a lot calmer, but with piles of assignments to finish at an appropriate time.

Thanks for everything you do - and make me do.

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