Do you ever have those discoveries in your life that make you feel like maybe life might not be such a bad shit show to live through… Yeah well, I just had such a discovery a while ago and it’s quite alright might I say so myself. I knew that through this platform I could view the stats of how people engage with my blog but today I made a new found discovery that let me in on the amount of people who interact with my blog, this being on a daily basis, a weekly basis, monthly & yearly. Let me just say I’m quite surprised but in a good way. I didn’t realize how far and wide my blog has traveled and I can’t help but feel so grateful that people are interested in the ‘insanity’ I often spill. It truly feels good and despite the fact that I mainly write here as a form of therapy for myself, I hope it brings a little bit of familiarity to someone who shares in what I go through in my mental health journey. So before I delve into anything else, thank you to anyone who comes across this and reads it and picks out something they think is cool, or simply anyone who enjoys having a peek at my mind through my writing. To express my gratitude, enjoy this rare picture of myself smiling.
How often do you feel like your stuck in the middle of something? How often do you try to figure out where your thoughts or feelings lie concerning a precise matter? I don’t have answers to this either cause I very much never know which side I’m on, at least when it comes to matters concerning thinking & feeling suicidal …Yeah, that’s where I’m heading with this… I say this with the utmost calmness I can master. I realize how sensitive of a subject this is and the sense of alarm it raises anytime it’s mentioned. I truly don’t fully consider myself a danger to myself currently, therefore, please calm down if in case you weren’t at the beginning.
I believe I’m what I’d call passively suicidal. In the scale of normal human existence, living would most times be considered as something automatic to human beings. Technically, being alive is essentially living, at least the most basic aspect of it. The more complex aspects of living require for one to feel a sense of fulfillment and pleasure in more than merely just existing. The secondary aspects of living become unfamiliar to those who may feel ‘plagued’ by any kind of mental turmoil…you know, the kind that has you wishing you were dead rather than waking up to a new day. Don’t get me wrong, I am living, at least the basic aspect of it. For me at least, I regard my suicidal ideation as more of passive in regard to those occasions when I don’t exactly wish to die. I live through the waves of wanting to fulfill my hopes and aspirations in life as well as wanting to die all in a matter of hours. Ideally, it’s more of just a means to an end for me. I just think that sometimes I loose track of where to begin living. If living didn’t seem as such an impossible task for me, I doubt death would skim through my mind as often as it does.
If I could quantify the workings of my mind into one word, the word would be turmoil. It perfectly matches the back and forth, the up and down and side to side that my thoughts bounce off from every other day. It would explain how easily it is for me to tip over from reality and simply want to end things as they are, especially in moments of hopelessness. It’s a turmoil that evolves from basic sadness into what I’d call a gut wrenching hollowness that still to date has not enough words that could define it. Only unless one is accustomed to it, does it remotely make sense to you why dying would feel slightly more appealing than breathing. On those days when I feel an inkling of control over my thoughts, do I wonder whether the appeal of death is just that, an appeal. It gets me thinking over whether dying is a lot like keeping my options open, at least until I can figure out a better, less scandalous & less finalizing option. It’s on this days that I choose not to panic over my passive ideations regarding death and it’s on those same days when I envision for myself a life where I’ll have hopefully gained the capability to handle pain in whichever form it may come, but most especially, if it stems from my mind.
I sometimes do think of letting go of dying as an option. It feels hard to fully both consciously & unconsciously let go of the idea that dying won’t solve all of my today’s and the rest of my life’s problems. Am I ready to close that option? I can’t say for certain. I realize that it isn’t something that just sprouted in the recent years since I began comprehending my mental struggles. No, I do believe that death has always just been a silent secret option for me. I recall a time before my mum was ever sick, I always made sure she knew that if she ever died before me, I’d die right after her. There was no question about it in my head and even despite how young I was, I needed her aware of my plan to never exist without her and that it was always going to be her and I in this life or the next. I wasn’t scared of the gravity of what it would mean to die…and for sure, I did try. I may not recall vividly what exactly I did to try execute my plan but the truth remains that I tried regardless to follow her in death just right after she passed on for I saw no need as to why I was required to be left behind. It didn’t make sense then and part of it still doesn’t make sense now. Therefore closing that option out for me is a lot more harder than just deciding to stop leaning towards it as a solution to my problems. It’s the aspect of no longer existing in this life to experience my turmoils that makes dying look so appealing. It’s the escaping factor of it that makes it look not at all scary but just maybe life saving instead.
I’m not writing this to glorify or beautify suicide or dying in any form. Not at all. It’s a major symptom of mental disorders and should be treated as so. Don’t be mistaken, I have felt the shame and guilt it carries along with it. When I look at my dad & sister and think of what it would mean for them loosing another loved one, it breaks my heart. The subject on suicide has a long way to go in the world. To end the stigma it carries will take a lot but it needs to be spoken about and not shunned as this horrifying subject no one wants to discuss. I hope that this post doesn’t trigger anyone but shows how easily it is to fall into the head space of becoming suicidal. I know for me to begin living & fully erasing the parts of my mind that consider death an option, I must heal. I must start again. I hope to get there. To get to a place where I’ll be ready to begin living despite every little fear I have.