There has been a lot of conversation about suicide lately. With the deaths of musical artists, and even my own sister within the last year, it’s been a topic people are talking about. However, it’s often said, “there’s help.” The reality of that situation isn’t as easy to reach out, or to even see that help is there. We are often so blinded by our perceptions, that in that moment, perception doesn’t show them the way out.
Imagine, if you can, that you’ve done something so wrong that it disgusts you. You disgust you. That the world although ugly, cold, and full of people; you feel like they are disgusted with you. You’re tired of fighting that disgust, tired of fighting the feeling back and trying to go on like everything is okay. It’s anything but alright in the moment. It’s a darkness that falls around you and really seems to be all that can be seen.
Many probably ask themselves what more could they have done to reach to them who are feeling that way. It is a problem that they continue to look back and ask what else could’ve been done. The truth is that there isn’t much to be done. As individuals go, we have the right to our own choices. This is no different. While this is one choice that doesn’t get to be changed, it is a choice none the less.
I imagine what my sister thought as she prepped her method. She must’ve been somewhere where she didn’t see the light anymore. Somewhere that I have been many times. I know what it must’ve been like, but I also wonder what she really thought when it came to help. Did she even really want it? She wasn’t a fool, she had friends, family, and even help lines and a variety of other assets that she could’ve used, gone to, or talked to. She chose not to.
The fact is she didn’t want to ask. This is because even asking for help can only deepen the darkness because it’s suddenly like we are inadequate to handle our own problems. Like, because we’re asking for help, we’re unable to solve our own issues, and while true as it may (or may not be) it is not something anyone is wanting to admit to themselves. That’s like questioning your own intelligence, no one wants to do that, not even to yourself.
The fact that help is out there is great, but the fact that there will always be those who choose not to accept it, or simply don’t see it’s there. They make the choice because the darkness is bearing down, and when it does, it’s being abusive, destructive, and it doesn’t relent. It continues to attack again, and again and although you may fend it off most days, there will be a day where it is winning. In that day it’s a matter of you facing off alone in the dark. How well do you feel you might fare?
I know the truth of that pit, that moment in time that seems to drone on for eternal seconds, minutes, hours. It’s not like there is a moment of brevity, or clarity from the inner conflict. It’s a struggle that many face in the world and they aren’t alone, surrounded by thousands, if not millions of people, and yet reaching out in that way is so difficult that they often don’t. The hardest part is to fight against what part of you feels. It feels so strongly about these matters that they often are breaking apart at the seams to release it somehow.
Unlike anger, or happiness, sadness, or depression is often turned inward and becomes a reflection of yourself. One that doesn’t mirror the full image. One that just seems to capture what is wrong. You don’t see the good you do, or have done, you see the horrible flaws, scars and wounds. You see the blood on your hands, and the wounds you’ve inflicted on others. You see the negative mirrored back, and instead of seeing truth you only see one dynamic of your own core. How easy is it for anyone to see beyond their own internal perspectives?
In the end, the truth of these instances are just simply that the troubles and pain they find themselves in, isn’t at all easy to simply see a way out, or to reach out. It isn’t something that can be judged because we all have made bad choices, and mistakes. Think of a choice you made the ‘wrong’ decision on, and know now at least you had the chance to continue to move on from that decision. Where the finalization of suicide isn’t the same.
I know what it was like for me. I know what the feelings of my times are, what it felt like to want to let go, give up or quit. It’s such a simple thought, and yet in the moment it’s also an urge, a desire to be free from guilt, pain, loss, heartache, etc. An urge that is as powerful as any urge can be, and it speaks in volume about the benefit of the action. As if to sway you, entice you to make that decision, but it’s really only you telling yourself. Although you know this, it doesn’t make the reality of it different, just harder.
As if knowing the way you will die might make your life harder. If you knew how you died, you would be stressing yourself to avoid situations, and actions that could put you in the situation of your demise. You would be always fearful, looking over your shoulder questioning that moment each day. It’s kinda like that, and nothing like it. So difficult to explain and put into words when everyone has their own reason to commit to the choice.
I found in my way that the fighting for beliefs, and things I hold dear to be a long and very difficult fight. Especially as the darkness bears down. The pressure of the world around you is crushing you, and you’re soul. It’s not just a moment of time, but a continued struggle that like war, goes either way, depending on the day. It’s a exhausting engagement.
I know what it’s like to be suicidal. I know, but I made a choice. I continue to make that decision despite the urges, despite how I feel in that moment, or anything else. The choice to continue and to stick through it like a tree in the hurricane. Not all tree’s hold their ground, but I stand firm, resolute to hold my ground. To continue the war, to keep fighting because it’s not about me. It’s not about my feelings, or about the darkness. It’s not about the way others may or may not perceive me. I get to really do one thing, and one thing only. Make a choice.