Menta

Found on AskReddit

I understand. I mean, I wake up every day with this gnawing feeling. You try to push it away, but it gets worse. It doesn’t stop. This feeling. It hurts. It stings. All the heartache, the stress…it gets to you. So if anyone thinks suicidal people are stupid, please realize that when you are holding the knife or pills like me, that it’s not easy to put them down.

I can’t tell you how many times I almost killed myself. 100? 200?

But all I ask, is that you understand. Depression and suicide aren’t like diseases. They don’t go away after time.

They are deep depths of darkness, and loneliness. Depression is like a boulder of weight always on your back. Slowly hurting you. Day by day until you say “Enough!” And it says “No.”

It doesn’t stop unless you make it.

Suicide isn’t about killing yourself. It’s about starting new, a clean slate. To forgot your troubles, and finally drop the boulder.

Some of us took the leap. I really do envy them.

Please just understand that we aren’t trying to be “selfish” or “hurtful.” We just want that boulder to stop hurting us.

We just want to love happily.

I understand that feeling of utter hopelessness that can so easily consume a life. I’ve suffered from depression on and off for most of my life. My mother suffers from bipolar disorder. As a result, both of us have struggled with suicidal tendencies. It’s hard to go through life when your own brain has turned against you. Getting out of bed is a struggle. Taking a shower is a struggle. Looking in the mirror is a struggle. Ah, I wish I didn’t understand. Honestly, for a long time I thought that suicide was the nicest thing I could do for myself. I knew it was selfish to put my loved ones through, but at the same time it was so goddamn difficult to stay alive just for the well-being of others. I could easily rationalize it and say that they were better off without me. God, depression is a bitch. It has taken so much intense therapy and self-reflection and, yes, even medication for me to realize that giving myself a chance to heal was the kindest thing I could do for myself. So I guess I’m trying to say that I empathize with suicide victims. When your own mind betrays you it’s hard to get back up again.