Today at school people were joking and pretending I’m suicidal because I made a thoughtless yet jokey comment about my life having no purpose.
Their teasing made me laugh a bit.
Because they don’t know how right they are at times, which is entertaining.
They’re aware of my darkest secret without realising the truth of it, that it wasn’t just a joke.
They don’t know that throughout my History lesson today, I was considering what to write in a suicide note.
It’s not like I’m likely to actually do it today, or tomorrow, or next year and it’s likely I’ll never need it, but it seems like something that should be done just in case.
It doesn’t bother me that they don’t know how I feel, though.
I’m pleased about that, actually.
If people knew, the option of suicide would be taken away from me.
If nobody knows, nobody can stop me should I decide to do it.
If people did know, they’d automatically judge and label me which would make me more likely to go through with it.
I often wonder how many people there are who feel like I do.
I can’t be the only one, and it scares me that other people feel this way and might not be as okay as I am.
Because I am okay, that is the truth.
I might be going crazy, but I can manage it and hide it okay.
I might be suicidal, but it’s more of a comforting yet final option to me than the only way forward.
I might get crazily sad, but I haven’t done anything drastic.
I’m honestly okay and if I told people I was ‘feeling suicidal but okay’ they wouldn’t believe me.