Being in a place where you don’t know what’s going on, is confusion in simple terms; but, being on a war with your own mind? That’s painful.
I’m someone who has fought suicidal thoughts in the past. And I can assure you, it is nothing as it looks like in movies. I will paint a simple yet scarily normal scenario of what we usually have on our minds: There is a constant need for attention and hope that someone would spend 5 minutes of their day checking on us. However, there’s also a constant guilt of expecting and hoping someone would check-in on us. Contradicting? Obviously, that’s how the mind works when it gets sad. Since January, I have been fighting suicidal thoughts. I had successfully overcome them in 2021 July – but the constant war of staying alive has begun again. People have asked me, “What triggers these suicidal thoughts?” and honestly, my reply has always been, “I don’t know… I just can’t find happiness within me anymore”.
‘I don’t know’ three most terrifying words for someone, who has been through enough trauma in life. Some people use these three words with little to no knowledge about the in-depth, unspeakable emotions it holds. There’s a sense of indecisiveness found but even that indecisiveness is unidentifiable. It leads to a lot of confusion and self-inflicted harm. And by harm I do not mean physical harm – by harm I mean having a tsunami of questions constantly clouding your mind. These questions range from “it wouldn’t matter if I don’t eat for a day” to “how’d be if I just hung myself”. It’s not like these are taught to us even – they just happen to creep into our minds at the loneliest hour on the busiest day.
Can I ask someone to be there for me? Of course, I can. But would someone bother to check on me without having me ask them to? No, and I don’t expect that from anyone. That’s because we all are having our struggles and no one owes anyone anything. It hurts to try to seek for help when all you’ve been doing is pretending to be alright. The feeling of giving up is a mixture of shame, guilt, sadness and bravery. Yes, bravery. Because in that moment, you chose yourself. You’re brave enough to get away but dumb enough to not recognise that staying alive is braver. It feels like you’re drowning in air while everyone else is just fine. It feels like running away whilst wishing and praying someone holds you back.
There are two types of reactions that will arise from this reading. The first, the ones who are proud of me for opening up and embracing myself; and the second, who are questioning if I have actually inflicted self-harm. In literal physical sense, no. But emotionally? Almost every day. Almost every day I remind myself that I am important, I am beautiful, I am worthy, and I have a purpose in life that is not just struggling or suffering. And, I have learnt to take one day at a time to accept “living”. The idea of ‘living’ has become a task. It’s a task that feels dreadful every waking moment and yet, taking one day at a time is the only way out of this.
Else all that is left, is to take ourselves out of ‘living’.