I Miss the Comfort in Being Sad

I’m not going to kill myself. Not now. All of the low points I’ve gone through in my mind I feel I’ve caused. If I were to ever take myself out of this world, I would hope that it wouldn’t be because of others, or the world. It would have to be strictly because I felt as though I would never escape my mind. I’ve been told that I am articulate, but I disagree. I can’t process any of my thoughts anymore. Even writing this is taking longer than it should. I realize that it’s not my time to go yet. When I was really down – maybe the lowest I have ever been – I thought of so many different scenarios, anything that would’ve made me happy before. Nothing gave me excitement. Even now I can’t think of anything – ANYTHING – that would truly be a reason for me to look forward to the future. Yet somehow I feel as though I need to stay. When I really absolutely wanted to commit, I didn’t even want to think about getting better for fear that I wouldn’t have the strength to go through with it later. I’m not sure if that makes sense. I know for a fact now, though, that somewhere deep inside me I don’t want to leave just yet. If I were to die this way, I would need to feel completely compelled to do so. I was worried that if I felt suicidal that God would punish me by taking me away. But if I was really suicidal, wouldn’t I have wanted Him to? I know there is something wrong in my mind, but it’s not enough for me to leave this world. I’ll be fine. I’ll be okay.