So there are parts of the lead up to seeking help and my breakdown that I kind of glossed over. Part of it was intended, part was I never really saw it as something big when it really was. In the moment I was lost in my self. I was trapped in a state of only thinking three things. The first was I am worthless. The second, everybody who knows me would be better off if I wasn't around. Lastly, I should kill myself.
It is an interesting thought process when it comes. I should kill myself. What bad could come from it? I mean, everyone would be happier without me dragging them down. It is a scary time. When killing yourself goes from a fleeting thought to a viable option. Not just a viable option, but a high possibility. How can you break that news to someone? A lot of people don't and they end up a statistic somewhere. For those of us who verbalize it to someone, it is like sharing your deepest, darkest secret. You hope they won't think you are joking, that they won't think you are trying to be funny, that you are pulling their leg. Nothing has been truer in your mind than the possibility you will end your life without help.
I verbalized to another person that I was thinking of killing myself. It certainly was hard to do, but if I wanted to get better I had to do it. I can not even begin to imagine what goes through someone's mind when someone they care about, someone they love, tells them they are suicidal. I didn't pick the best time to tell them either. I had to get to class, and things lined up just right to where I told them that I was very depressed and had been contemplating killing myself. I know it was not quite that elegant, but I am sure I got my point across. The next hour and a half or so was spent crying and barely talking. Then, I had to leave.
What would you think if this were you? For me, I was too self-absorbed to see what I was doing. I was too stuck in my own mind to understand the pain and worry I was causing. I didn't think that someone could or should worry if I was coming home. If they would just get a call instead of me pulling into the driveway that night. Was I really going to class? Was I doing what I said I was? I couldn't be trusted. I was beyond the tipping point, so to the people around me my word was no longer good enough. Saying I wouldn't do anything rash, promising I would come home, that I would be there, was no longer a given. There was too much at stake not to worry about my every move. My every emotion. My every breath.
I would be lying if I said I understood how someone put in that situation would feel. I can not even imagine the torment it causes. I just hope the people I confided in understand it took a lot for me to do that. It took a lot for me to say "I have been very, very depressed for awhile and I have been thinking of killing myself." I am sure those were not my exact words. But they have the same meaning all the same. As someone who felt like their heart did not even exist, I can only imagine that it felt like their heart was being ripped out of their chest. That all they knew was disintegrating around them. Stability was gone.
I never knew how much damage those words could have done. I was trying to reach out, trying to do the right thing. But in the end, even though it was the right thing for me to do to get help, it was undoubtedly hard to deal with. In the moment it was hard to see the fact that I was releasing this pain of mine to someone else. Now they had a burden. It wasn't intended to be, but now, from that moment forward, if I were to give in to the thoughts and take my own life, anyone I told I was feeling the way I was would feel as though they let everyone down. That if I killed myself, they were responsible. They knew I was having these thoughts, these issues, but I still did it. That is a hard thing to live with. It is almost like I guilted them into the situation. That if I kept my mouth shut, we could all just continue on our merry way. Would it have been better if I never said a word? Would I still be here? Is it worth sacrificing something just to keep myself alive? Am I worth that? Am I worth the pain and suffering those around me have gone through? Am I worth the pain and suffering I have gone through? Am I worth the pain and suffering we all will go through on this journey?
Yes. Yes I am.
I have to tell myself that a lot. I have to convince myself that I am worth all this trouble. I'm not sure I completely believe it. My therapist tells me I don't need to believe it at this point. If I keep telling myself that I am, eventually I will believe it. So I guess for now I will just have to fake it until I make it.
People like me are told not to dwell on things in the past. They tell us not say or think about should haves or could haves. I should have done this, or I could have done that and things would be better. The fact of the matter is that if I knew to do those things then, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't be talking about this. But the fact remains, I am here. I did not do the right things. I took the rough road to get here. I shot myself in the foot, hell, I shot myself in both feet and possibly a hand. I almost took the worst road of all. I was in a nose dive headed for the earth. But a few others and myself grabbed the controls and pulled up. Now, it is just the battle to stay aloft. To keep from crashing.
I saw a quote the other day that has kind of stuck with me. It deals with suicide and I do not know the origin other than two different pictures I have seen of two different men holding a cardboard sign that reads "Suicide does not end the chances of life getting worse, suicide eliminates the possibility of it ever getting better." This is an important outlook to keep in mind. Choosing suicide is choosing the certainty that your life will never get better, and choosing the certainty that you will leave a lasting scar on the people around you. Some scars are ok. They remind us of the past, they remind us that we overcame something. A scar means you have healed. I have visible and invisible scars just like everyone else. Physical and emotional scarring that will one day tell the tale of my triumph over depression. That is what I want my legacy to be. One of hope, of triumph, of success instead of leaving a black mark on everyone who cares about me's soul.
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