The Inevitable
The Inevitable
Have you ever had a dream and suddenly, you realize what's happening doesnt make any sense-and you realize that you're dreaming. And you know that if you know that you're in a dream, you can control what happens... right?
When i have an episode , it's exactly like that-only backwards.
Sometimes, when things are bad, i sit and make lists of reasons not to kill myself. My mom is always at the top of the list. I love her, and i know that if i died, she would be devastated. I try to stay alive for her sake. Next is usually My little brother. He's had enough gone wrong in his life. And it would be sad to die without really getting to know him. Next, I list friends of mine. But when you want to kill yourself, sometimes it's hard to think rationally about who your friends are. You can think that they all hate you behind your back. You can even think that sometimes, secretly, they want you dead. Im not saying it makes any sense. But you can think it anyway.
The first time i tried to kill myself, i was ten. When i woke up the next morning, i was so relieved. I was so happy that i didnt succeed. I didnt tell anyone. And for awhile, i was happy to be alive. A year later, i tried again. I have lost count of how many times i have tried. They were all cries for help. I tried to poison myself, overdose on sleeping pills, hang myself, drown myself,suffocate myself, and i even tried to thrown myself into traffic.
Now when i wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach and washing it down with a bottle if whine that i stole from my dad, im never ever relieved. I feel trapped. I feel desperate. I feel even more like a failure. And i even wondered if the reason that i cant kill myself is because Im already in hell, dead and walking around. This is a living hell. There is no better description than that.
But your physical drive to live can undermine your mind's desire to die.Your instincts to breathe are hard to overcome. you cant bear another second of misery, but your heart just refuses to stop beating. It has some nerve.
It hard to tell the the people i love that i want to die. So i spend alot of my time and energy pretending that everything's okay. I make jokes, and when i ended up in the hospital, it was almost a relief. Because i didnt have to act for anyone, anymore. I just cried all day. And no one took it personally. Nobody wanted to blame themselves. I could cry to my hearts content, and it didnt hurt anyone's feelings. The honesty was refreshing.
But then, i started to look at the other patients around me, and i started to realize that i was never, ever going to get better than i already do every day on my own. No medication will ever fix me. I will always have depression. I can fight it. I can achieve all kind of things. I can make everyone thnk that im normal, that im coping, and that im okay. But i have never been okay. I will never be okay. I will always be one bad day away from suicide. Until im dead, I'll spend my life trying to delay what i know is INEVITABLE...
Have you ever had a dream and suddenly, you realize what's happening doesnt make any sense-and you realize that you're dreaming. And you know that if you know that you're in a dream, you can control what happens... right?
When i have an episode , it's exactly like that-only backwards.
Sometimes, when things are bad, i sit and make lists of reasons not to kill myself. My mom is always at the top of the list. I love her, and i know that if i died, she would be devastated. I try to stay alive for her sake. Next is usually My little brother. He's had enough gone wrong in his life. And it would be sad to die without really getting to know him. Next, I list friends of mine. But when you want to kill yourself, sometimes it's hard to think rationally about who your friends are. You can think that they all hate you behind your back. You can even think that sometimes, secretly, they want you dead. Im not saying it makes any sense. But you can think it anyway.
The first time i tried to kill myself, i was ten. When i woke up the next morning, i was so relieved. I was so happy that i didnt succeed. I didnt tell anyone. And for awhile, i was happy to be alive. A year later, i tried again. I have lost count of how many times i have tried. They were all cries for help. I tried to poison myself, overdose on sleeping pills, hang myself, drown myself,suffocate myself, and i even tried to thrown myself into traffic.
Now when i wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach and washing it down with a bottle if whine that i stole from my dad, im never ever relieved. I feel trapped. I feel desperate. I feel even more like a failure. And i even wondered if the reason that i cant kill myself is because Im already in hell, dead and walking around. This is a living hell. There is no better description than that.
But your physical drive to live can undermine your mind's desire to die.Your instincts to breathe are hard to overcome. you cant bear another second of misery, but your heart just refuses to stop beating. It has some nerve.
It hard to tell the the people i love that i want to die. So i spend alot of my time and energy pretending that everything's okay. I make jokes, and when i ended up in the hospital, it was almost a relief. Because i didnt have to act for anyone, anymore. I just cried all day. And no one took it personally. Nobody wanted to blame themselves. I could cry to my hearts content, and it didnt hurt anyone's feelings. The honesty was refreshing.
But then, i started to look at the other patients around me, and i started to realize that i was never, ever going to get better than i already do every day on my own. No medication will ever fix me. I will always have depression. I can fight it. I can achieve all kind of things. I can make everyone thnk that im normal, that im coping, and that im okay. But i have never been okay. I will never be okay. I will always be one bad day away from suicide. Until im dead, I'll spend my life trying to delay what i know is INEVITABLE...