Disclaimer: The author of this post is a friend of Brianna’s and has asked her to post the article while respecting her wishes to remain anonymous.
I didn’t want to share this, I would have preferred to keep it a secret in my soul, but as I read about the insane amounts of suicide in September I felt that this needed to be written. This may not be an amazing article, but it will be one of honesty.
I didn’t want to live anymore, I can remember that much. I was constantly haunted by ghosts of a life once lived and they had slowly eaten away at whatever future I felt I had. I recall crying often and sitting in silence even more. I have this habit of not wanting to worry people so plastered on a happy face for everyone around me. I felt choked out, suffocated almost. Nothing made sense, everything was colorless and hope had decided to take a long vacation. When I say I was “sad” I don’t mean I just watched a Nicolas Sparks movie. I am talking drowning in complete and utter darkness. I was trapped in a void and there was no place to go. I keep hearing people say that suicide is a selfish and mindless thing. I had cuts on my arms and legs as proof that I had tried to feel something in this life and failed miserably. Sometimes I wish those people had been where I had been, where many people have been. Suicide isn’t something one decides to do on a whim- do you realize how much pain, confusion and despair someone must be in to decide that being plunged into quiet darkness is better than this life? I know that death seemed peaceful to me; a place where I could not be haunted, pushed or sad. It wasn’t something I thought was a good solution- it was the only solution.
I sat down very calmly to write out the letter that would be my last. I felt at peace with my decision. The pen touched the paper as my words poured out like water on the whiteness. I placed the pen down, read the letter, and threw it away: it just was not good enough. If this was going to be the last thing I wrote than it was going to be amazing. I must have written out 15 different letters and threw them all away; I was slowly becoming obsessed with writing perfection. Writing this now, I know it sounds crazy but I had thought so long about killing myself and now, when it was a reality, it had to be perfect. I was getting frustrated and finally decided I would write one last letter and finish it all. I forcefully pushed the pen against the paper and wrote…and I kept writing. I became lost in my words and thoughts and found myself writing out a story. About an hour later I had my ‘a-ha’ moment and realized there was something I loved in this life…something that people could not take away from me. I loved writing; if nothing else worked out in this pathetic existence I always had my writing.
Some people say God, love, or family saved them from the brink but for me it was writing. I found something that was stronger than all the pain the world could give me- passion. I wake up every morning and am so thankful that I was being incredibly stubborn on that day. Life isn’t always happy, fair, or lovely but it is always there. I am not always peaceful and I get depressed more often than I would care to admit but I am still here.
I am still here.
I know what it feels like to want to have peace. I know that sometimes it is so hard to breathe because the weight of life is crushing you. I know how waking up is a daily chore and our minds are the only escape we have from “life”. I know- I have been there. Wondering if people will miss you and then realizing they won’t, hating yourself, wanting help but not knowing how to get it. Those feelings carved away at my soul and I felt empty. I remember wanting to have someone hold me until I cried my last tear but being so afraid to have that connection with someone. I could write a whole book on the complexities of the emotions I felt.
People constantly told me life would get better and I said it was shit, but they were right- life does get better. Even though everything seems dark and hopeless now just know the sun is always there, right behind the clouds. Find something, anything, to make life worth it: reading, drawing, activism, running, kites, baking, writing, or meditation, anything that will make you feel. You have felt extreme pain and depression and you will be one of the few to know true happiness and bliss. I may not always been happy, but I know what happiness is. Life is beautiful and terrible but it needs people like you in it to show the way, to forge paths, to help. You are not alone. There are countless others out there crying out too but there are also countless hands reaching out to help you. I am one of those hands and I am pleading with you to not do it. As someone who has been there and understands I am telling you that life gets better, we get better, and someone cares.
Hey, and guess what? I smile and laugh now. And I actually mean it.