For them

I don’t want to be alive most days. I probably would have killed myself by now if I didn’t know that it would hurt too many people. Pretty much the only reason I have not attempted it yet. But I want to. I’m getting tired of wanting to. So I’m going to post this and try to move up. So I might think about it less and keep them safe from knowing that I want to die.

I am 19 years old, I go to community college and I work at a retailer to pay rent and school fees. I’m well off enough, I have savings, I’m picking my first major after a year of directionless class taking because I refused to go to a counselor meeting to be told what I need to take before I knew what I wanted. I don’t live paycheck to paycheck or on the dime of anyone else, I can not ask for money from my parents. I’m too proud and I would rather take the harder way on my own, they have done enough and have my four sisters to worry about who are not as dumb as I am to ask for help.

I have no problems talking with people. If prompted I can chat up a stranger and get them laughing with the best of them.

I am gay and successfully out, nor do I have any problems with being gay. I do not wish I was straight, I don’t hate my sexuality, I am okay.

I have all these things going for me and I still don’t want to be alive because I do not like myself or most people. I am not an emotional person. I don’t get angry except in extreme cases. I can count the number of times I’ve done something in anger for the last five years on one hand. I get sad often, but mostly just at night before I fall asleep, it is not shown. My problems are my own, I don’t wear them on my sleeve for other people to comment on.

I am very flaky. I’ve been late to work so much my boss has commented on it, and even now when I really try to get there I still end up walking in the door with seconds to spare. Friends invite me to things pretty much weekly that I ignore because I do not want to go. So I ignore the invite and blame a malfunctioning six-year old phone or my unreliable sleep schedule that comes with my job.

Nearly everyone I hangout with talks about the same things, getting high, getting drunk, car stories, life rants, getting sex, or whatever latest movie came out. Things I can barely feign interest in. I do not drink or smoke, I feel claustrophobic when surrounded by people, I don’t like loud noise, I get panic attacks nearly every time I drive and cling to a handhold for dear life as a passenger, and I am happy being single. I have very little in common with most people. I can chat with pretty much anyone for a half hour and come across as funny and likable, but the whole time I am thinking that I would rather be home alone. And eventually it gets to the point where I will either leave for some secluded area from everyone or just straight up leave, because I am not having fun and I see everyone having fun around me and I feel at the same time inadequate and superior.

Superior in that I don’t need all these things to enjoy myself, inadequate in that I can’t enjoy these things and there will always be that disconnect I can’t bridge when people talk about the things they like. And even then I don’t understand why I want to make that connection. Sharing feelings publicly is not something I do either. I have friends who always want to talk about every single emotion they ever feel to the point where I just want to tell them to stop talking. Emotions do not rank important enough to share, they come and go and then I’m back to my default okay state. I have been talked to multiple times about the need to communicate and how so many of my problems will float away, and in my head I scoff because I do not believe it. I probably don’t say more than 400 words a day, spoken or written to another person. I send about two text messages a week and I only email when I have plans. All because I don’t think most of the things people talk about need to be voiced. They are thoughts, why not keep them that way? Deep down I do not think letting someone see exactly who I am and what I am going through will solve anything. I’d like to think it could, but I hear someone say the importance of communication and my first thought is a scoff with a sarcastic, “Yeah… right.”

And that is why I won’t tell them. It would hurt them. It could hurt me. One of my few close friends told a hotline she had suicidal thoughts. Apparently she hit a buzzword or two and was sent to the emergency room. She lost her job, her boyfriend broke up with her, and the college put her on a leave of absence, essentially kicking her out for two semesters with no refund for the classes she had been taking. And she is stronger than I am. I would not be able to deal with that. All for what? A ‘cure’ I don’t believe in. My friend is doing better, but I have never talked about it with her. One of the four people I let closer to me than anyone else and I can’t even bring up the topic to help either of us.

So I work through my hermitude to stay alive. I may not be able to commit suicide, but that want to die is still there. And I don’t know how to get rid of it because the one thing I read everywhere I go among self-help guides: “Talk about it with someone.” is one thing I cannot do. So I post this under a fake name with a bogus email address and hope it helps. Because even if I don’t believe in it, I will try, for them.