Memoirs of Suicide

Memoirs of Suicide

June 19^th  2013. That was the day I tried to kill myself. Yeah. Not what you’d expect from a nice girl, right? It’s hard understanding what drives someone to want to kill themselves unless you’ve been there, but I’ll try to explain it as best I can.

It’s like you’re a speed above or below everyone else, you can see them but they’re moving too slow or too fast for you to catch up. I was with people but I was always alone. It’s like I was in a bed in a really deep ditch and I had to try and crawl out of it and if I did manage that, there’s this huge brick wall in front of me that I had to climb up while avoiding these falling bricks that were trying to knock me back into the hole. I had my whole life ahead of me and yet it seemed like I was staring into this blank abyss of nothingness.

I was in this melancholic state, this permanent lugubrious mood; I never smiled, never laughed. It didn’t help that I was in a more than slightly poisonous relationship with a girl I met online named Mavis Carlise. At first everything was great. We talked constantly, and were always texting or emailing each other. As time went on, the time difference put a strain on our relationship, instead of sweet, loving sentiments, we now exchanged cruel, biting remarks and harsh words. She began to leave taunting messages, pointing out how I had no friends while she went out with her friends every night. I already felt so alone, so isolated from everyone else I couldn’t handle the one person who still talked to me being so cruel. I was sick of everyone treating me horribly for struggling with depression.

I had moved away from all my friends about two years before all of this and I still had no one to talk to. I was pushed around at school, people threw things at me in the halls. The pills I was taking weren’t helping; they just made me feel like a robot, unable to feel anything but pain. Life was hard and I began to contemplate suicide. It wasn’t like I just woke up one day and decided to kill myself, it’s a slow descent. I started to think more about death, I started to wonder what it would be like if I wasn’t there. I thought everyone would be better off without me and then I knew. I had to kill myself. I felt like there was no other way out but death. Weirdo. Worthless. Freak. Dumb. Fat. Stupid. Ugly.  Those were the words that ran though my head day in and day out.  I felt like I had nothing to live for anymore and I just wanted the pain to end. I picked out an outfit, a bright yellow shirt with blue ribbons and a new pair of shorts and a pair of glittery sandals. I didn’t want people to see my body and think ‘oh my god! She was so unhappy, she looks so depressed’ I wanted to look like I was happy. I wanted to keep up the pretense that I was happy.  I had the pills ready; I had a water bottle to wash the pills down. I had everything ready, I was just about to open the pill bottles when my phone went off.

I tried to ignore it but I didn’t want to wonder what someone had texted me while I was busy dying. I picked it up and there, in front of me on the phone was the text from Mavis that saved my life: “I can’t wait to skype this weekend, I’ve missed you so much! Xxxx I love you”.

I have never been more ashamed of myself than I was at that moment. How could I have been ready to take my life when I had Mavis who would miss me? How could I kill myself and leave everyone else behind? I dumped the pills, threw the outfit away and focused on getting better, it’s a long, winding road you have to travel to get better. It’s not like you just get better overnight. You have to work at it, to tell yourself everyday ‘I will get better. I am getting better. I’ll be okay.’ I slowly started talking to people again, going outside and trying to have fun instead of staying indoors and telling myself I was worthless.  I relapsed a couple times. I went down that dark, foggy road again but it was never as bad. I never got to the cliff that leads to suicide; I never jumped off and landed on the sharp, slicing rocks of hatred and pain.

Now that I look back, I wonder how I managed to hide all of my pain so well. I can’t believe I actually wanted to kill myself. I would have missed out on so much, I never would have gotten to see Josie again, I never would have fixed my relationship with Mavis, I never would have moved here and met Elsa. I wouldn’t have been able to help others with fighting back the demons and helping them beat back depression.  I wouldn’t have been able to save someone else’s life, if I had killed myself, my best friend Josie wouldn’t be here. She tried to kill herself too and I managed to talk her out of it. I lead her away from the cliff and back into the sun.

Sometimes, you think the only way out is suicide, but there is one person or idea or thing that makes your life worth living. You can’t let other people tell you how much you’re worth, you have to figure out just how fantastic you really are, it’s up to you to get better, I mean, yeah, people can help you have to want to be better. You have to hold on to your dreams, you might want to fly but you can’t get your wings until you’ve lived a long, long life. Suicide is never the answer, and I’m glad I learned that before it was too late.