Playing God: What It's Like To Deal With Suicidal Thoughts

Playing God: What It's Like To Deal With Suicidal Thoughts

Maybe it doesn't get better.

Edward Honaker

It is not uncommon that the word suicidal often creates an uncomfortable tone when discussed. When we hear about suicidal individuals, we often envision them as mental patients, disturbed adults, or "crazy people." Aside from the fact that there is an incredible amount of stigma attached to mental illnesses and those who suffer from them, no one realizes exactly what it is like to deal with suicidal thoughts, and even more so, are oblivious to the fact that the most unsuspecting individuals are dealing with them. It is not the same for everyone, but the mind of an individual coping with suicidal thoughts is more complex than one would think.

Suicidal thoughts / feelings are not always constant, and can sometimes be subtle.

As I mentioned, everyone is different, but sometimes I would compare my thoughts to background music. To put things into a better perspective, I will include an excerpt from "Girl, Interrupted" by Susanna Kaysen, "Missed the bus — better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie — maybe I shouldn't kill myself." Some days are often better than others, and sometimes I don't even think about it at all. Other days, the background music turns into a full-blown metal concert and I cannot seem to make it stop.

When it rains, it pours.

On the days where suicidal thoughts seem to be more consuming than anything else — food seems bland, conversations feel like a burden, work appears unbearable, moving is dreadful, but the bridge above the highway looks like it would have an impeccable view if I were to simply jump off of it. This may sound crazy to an outsider who does not understand how in-depth mental illness can be, and how effectively those who suffer from it learn to deal with it. Unfortunately, not everyone learns how to. For some, these feelings are absolutely too overwhelming or unbearable to deal with. For myself, it's just part of my everyday life, like brushing my teeth.

Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills.

Some people love medication, some are addicted to it, and others hate the idea of it. Whether you have crippling anxiety or severe depression — if you have seen a therapist or any type of doctor, there is a chance you have been offered medication to aid in treating your mental illness. Twice in my life I have been offered medication for my depression — the first time I was 11 years old, the second time I was 17 years old. The second time I was offered it, I accepted. Some symptoms included but were not limited to dry mouth, constant thirst, insomnia, infinite energy, and lack of appetite. While that may seem like a small price to pay to feel a "little bit better," they made me just as miserable. Nevertheless, that should not discourage individuals from trying medication. It's just that personally between having constant thirst or being suicidal, at least my suicidal thoughts don't make me spend a fortune on water.

I truly hate being rude.

Those who do not understand what it is like to deal with depression or suicidal thoughts often call suicide "selfish" because it hurts those around you that care about you. While I will not go into how disgusting it is to call suicide "selfish" — I will say that in a way that has affected my own actions. On the most unbearable days, I can't help but to remember that I have to be at work early in the morning, and I don't want to leave them shorthanded by driving my car into the lake — better hold off for a day or two. Even worse than that is a situation like — oh my goodness, I promised so-and-so I would spend time with them tomorrow. I've already rescheduled twice with them and I don't want to be rude. Better wait another day. Sometimes I hate being so nice.

I'd rather wait in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles than receive your pity.

I'm not a candidate for Macy's Make-A-Wish Foundation. You don't need to buy me a piano and tell me that you're sorry for me. I am not terminally ill, physically disabled, or deprived of anything. I am a simple human with a mental illness that causes me to feel a certain way towards my life. I can assure you that I have enough pity to fill an ocean, and I do not need yours, nor do I want it. I understand that you care or you had a cousin going through the same thing or you want to know if today is a good day or a bad day for me — but in all honesty, it is not necessary. I am a simple human, just like you.

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