If you’re on this website, I genuinely feel for you.
If you’re suicidal, I genuinely feel for you.
I never used to when I first came here, a long time ago now. But I do now.
I know what that pit feels like. It’s very cold, and small and absolutely terrifying. And when you’re in it, that fear is very real. That’s the thing normal people don’t get, the thought of suicide to a suicidal person, 9 times out of 10, is absolutely terrifying.
Pain can’t be measured on a scale.
Suicides can’t be ranked.
A death should never become just another number.
But hell, what do I know? I’m technically still a teenager. The things I’ve gone through are nothing compared to the dozens of stories I read here a day.
With the greatest of respect, I am surprised so many of you are still alive. If half of your stories are true, you have suffered the most unimaginable agony I can bear to read.
But that’s the thing, pain can’t truly be compared. So I have no more right to say that you should have killed yourself from what you’ve gone through, than you do of saying I shouldn’t because my pain is nothing.
So when I tell you I spend my days waking up at whatever hour I want, watching TV and playing games all day, walking my dog in the evening and chatting to friends online, you reply with; Your life is great, you have everything, there’s no reason for you to want to die.
All I can reply is; Fuck you. Sure I’m a privileged, spoilt little white boy who wants for nothing, but this isn’t how I imagined my life. This isn’t how things were. I get that life changes. Sometimes life deals you a crappy hand and you just have to play through. But what about when the deck gets reshuffled and all of the cards are blank? I had a life. I had a house. I had 2 jobs. I had an education. I had a relationship. I had friends. I had a life and a future. Now I just can’t see any of that.
There is no way for me to slip back into that old life.
And I get that people care. My family, friends. But it’s not the same. They’re not asking because they’re interested, they’re asking because they’re scared. I have terrified people and that will never go away. They won’t ever stop fearing for me. So I’ll probably do something that will tear their hearts to shreds. Blow a hole in their lives. But they won’t live with the fear. They will never have to be scared again.
A permanent solution to a temporary problem. How do I know that? Do I just have to keep waiting this storm out, hoping one day it’ll finally pass over? I have been depressed for pretty much every single day since September 2014. I haven’t asked for help because I’m ashamed. I will never ask for help because I don’t want it.
I am pathetic. Rich little white boy. Boo hoo.