On the 1st of December 2019, i posted my last post. A month after, on the 4th of January, i attempted suicide. I overdosed on pills. My parents were witnesses, they found me, apparently dying. For a few weeks after, i thought it was all a dream. Until my father showed the empty pill packets, I didn’t believe him.
It’s been nearly a year since my attempt. It’s much better, I might even say I’m happy. But… I can sense a change. It’s not depression and the thoughts of dying anymore. It’s lack of empathy and emotions. I don’t care about the things I used to be so stressed about before. i don’t care about being alone. I see death as an art. I have changed. For the better. Darker.
2 comments
Glad you got a second chance too.
Can you elaborate on seeing death as an art?
And on changing for the darker? Genuinely curious.
It sounds like you’ve had a mild epiphany.
As all feelings go, nothing last forever. If this is something you believe is “good/ dark” then more power to you. Just know that attempted suicide doesn’t open some magical door for you. The thought almost always resurfaces again.
I’d suggest you seek professional help before you ever reach that point again.
“darker” doesn’t mean you are cured, or better. It just means you’re more detached than you were before…. trust me on that one.
Goodluck!