As someone with OCD on self-harm and suicide obsessions, I never thought I would ever try to kill myself. I never thought I’d be someone with a self-harm history. I never thought I’d be the person who made a suicide plan, who showed warning signs and who would act on the thoughts. I wish I so much that I could be someone who had the thoughts and left them there. But now in my life, it’s hard to picture my future without, at some point, acting on the suicidal and self-harm thoughts again.
I keep holding onto this false belief that I will someday die by suicide. That such an ending would be fitting for me–that it is my “fate” and “destiny”. I keep holding on to the concept of self-harm and suicide as a means of coping with this moment’s stress. As if it is all better once I’m dead and can no longer experience anything in life again.
Because that’s what suicide ends; it ends the possibility of life ever changing, improving and getting better.
And it DOES get better.
I hold onto the concept of suicide like it’s a life raft–but in reality it’s an anchor. And it’s going to keep dragging me down and drowning me if I let it.
Yet I don’t know how to let go of it, or if I’m ready to let go–or if I can at all.
I’m scared. I’m scared because I’m playing with fire and one of these days I’m going to get burned. And at worst the damage will be so bad that I don’t live another day. And at worst worst I get burned and have to live with the disfigurement for the rest of my life.
People die by suicide. Every day a family, a friend, an acquaintance, a stranger is impacted because of someone’s burden becoming too heavy to bear alone.
Well, I’m still here to remind you that you are NOT alone. I’m still here to remind you that there is hope and help out there for you to reach out to. To remind you that suicide is everyone’s business and we carry more power than we realize to make a change in each other’s lives.
I’m still alive to say that my actions and inactions were a mistake. I regret the moment I held my tongue. I regret the moment I wrote my second suicide note. I regret the decision I made to be alone. I regret accessing my method, holding onto it and then using it.
Because nausea, hallucinations, slurred speech and not being able to walk straight isn’t as “fun” as my brain said it would be. Because scaring people, worrying them and disappointing them isn’t what my brain told me would happen–and it IS what happens. Because I broke people’s trust in me and now we’re all picking up the pieces to make me whole again.
I regret requiring and acquiring help in the manner of which I did. Because being picked up by ambulance from the Counseling Center again shouldn’t have had to happen. Because entering my seventh psychiatric hospitalization didn’t have to happen. Because receiving two bags of intravenous fluids on a hospital bed is my newest low point.
Because I foresaw where I was headed and I could have stopped myself before circumstances fell into place the way that they did.
But I chose not to.
Because I wanted to avoid life’s stress–which in retrospect is such a stupid reason to die. Because I couldn’t see a way out through the mounting deadlines that I opted for the ultimate ending. Because I had something to prove to myself–and one day that BS is going to kill me unless I move on from it.
The moment I came into the psychiatric hospital–I wanted to get back out to face my problems. My work on getting better starts on the outside.
So this is my new beginning again. I looked forward to returning to the outside world: where bathrooms aren’t opened by staff, codes aren’t called incessantly, I can watercolor and listen to music.
Despite my regrets, the intrusive thoughts have returned to the realm of my mind. I hope I’ve built up enough strength to let them go this time.
Otherwise, I don’t know where I’ll end up. And if it’s not writing articles and fulfilling my dreams–than it was a final mistake I won’t ever come back from.
If you’re struggling with suicidal ideation, reach out and talk to someone. Call a hotline; 1800 273 TALK. Or stop by the Counseling Center on emergency. If the crisis is immediate and life-threatening, dial 911.
*Article written 3.22 and 3.23.2017
*No bullshit in this piece, just real hard realizations and setting them out on the table. Haven’t been this vulnerable in a piece in a long time.
Thanks for reading. ❤ ❤ ❤