(OOC) Why I Didn’t Kill Myself
I have not had a very fantastic 20 years, but no matter how I pull them apart and branch off different possibilities as if my life could be simplified to an inconsequential choose your own adventure story, there’s no way I would change what has happened. After a long chat with my sister (nearly 3 hours, like holy shit, how do I even have enough to talk about), I realized that while there are some ideals I would love to have in life, I would hate the reality that I would receive. Sure, I wish my Mom was alive to see important milestones and to be able to run to when everything just seemed to much, but the reality is that it never would be that simple, cookie cutter deal- that wasn’t who my Mom was. And yeah I’m going through what feels like Hell because it’s a God damn throwback Thursday in the worst way. What’s happened recently has brought up a lot of painful memories that I had hoped were buried and in the past, but nothing ever stays that way I suppose.
I confessed to my sister that I have no idea what the Hell I’m doing and that I don’t know why or appreciate that things have gone the way they do. I know that everything has been my decision- rash or not- and that if I’m not where I wanna be, then it’s on me. But she pointed out that over the 20 years I’ve been alive, I’ve been through more than most people have to deal with in their entire life course, between losing both my parents after having been in a beyond broken home, losing my closest in age sister to suicide, and numerous other things (some of which I still haven’t told and I don’t want to if I don’t have to). I try to take that in consideration, but that doesn’t always mean anything. At my age, some of this shit shouldn’t be such a huge thing, but it is. Everything just seems so overwhelming and I would love to just be able to just duck out of life for awhile and just come back to it whenever I’m ready to deal with whatever bullshit it wants to throw at me next, but that’s not how it works.
I admit I had my time today where I shut my phone off for like three hours after my now ex-boyfriend came and got what I believe is the last of his stuff and I just let it all hit me. He’s gone, what we had is gone, and I’m alone, again. Then came the flood- how the Hell am I supposed to deal with all these bills, with having almost no possessions down here, having a pet to take care of on my own, whether I can stay where I am or do I need to find somewhere else… I damn near bottomed out. I laid in bed, curled up in a ball, feeling so hurt and lost that I couldn’t even muster up the tears to shed over my ridiculous situation. I was messaging people before and after so that no one would hunt me down and give me the are you okay bullshit because no, I’m not okay- I am far from okay.
All my life people have asked that question and asked for an honest answer and if I gave that honest answer, they would have me committed. There’s a reason for that. I would have to admit that while I laid in bed for those three hours, dozing on and off because I’m physically, emotionally, and mentally beyond exhausted, I contemplated taking that glass cup out from the book shelf next to my bed, shattering it and then stepping on the jagged pieces until one found just the right vein or artery to splice open. Then I could just lay down and slowly bleed to death, a quiet peaceful passing. I would have to explain that the only reason I didn’t act on that plan is because the survival rate is too high. My roommate or someone would likely find me and take me to the ER and then I’m stuck with a huge bill that I’ll pay off when I’m dead because then I’d have to take time off from work to recover and wouldn’t have the money and then the debt collectors would come and I’d be fucked. I don’t want to go back to the behavioral health ward because it’s not going to help otherwise I would’ve had a bigger turn around than I did- I’ve relapsed several times since that week on the ward when I was a junior in high school.
With that in mind, I still have that part of my conscience that pipes up and says, ‘Hey, what the fuck are you thinking trying to end your life when your sister did that to you and everyone else? Where do you get off thinking it’s okay to pull the same bullshit and getting different results? News flash, you’ve become close with so many people in so many places that you would pretty literally cause world wide grief. Can you even begin to deal with that?’ The answer is no, I can’t even begin to deal with that. As it stands now, my niece will one day too soon have to go through the uncomfortable and scary talk of why she never met Aunt Sammy because Aunt Sammy put a bullet in her brain and I don’t like the thought of being that second story of her never having time with Aunt Lizzy because she cut open her artery and bled to death and it was a huge debate for a long time whether it was an accident or not because of how she died. Then there’s all of you who barely know me and somehow you’ve come to see me as a very close friend if not family. Given that I view you all as family, I can’t hurt you like that, partly because I would have no way to let you all know what I’d done and why because I would be in the midst of dying. But the bigger reason is that it’s not something you burden your loved ones with because whether or not anyone realizes this, you are burdening your loved ones when you commit suicide because they are forever saddled with survivor’s guilt (which is a legitimate thing, it’s taught in psychology and therapists will even diagnose it).
So today, I almost took that final leap, but instead, I thought of all of you and realized that I couldn’t hurt you or anyone else by killing myself. I don’t want any of you to suffer because I made a dumb decision while I was going through some shit that would eventually be a drop in the ocean in the long run.
I am sorry to anyone I might have scared, worried or anything along those lines. I didn’t mean to stress you like that and hopefully you’ll forgive me. I’m still not in good shape, but I’m a tiny bit better than before. I have a few people to thank for that: My sister,
@hellagayangelofthelord @deanismyvessel @hellasarcasticdemonfromhell @driver-picks-the-music-67 @666crowley-king-of-hell666 and even my ex and his mother, who have both been checking in on me to make sure I’m okay because they know just how hard things have been and how much I gave up to try and start a new chapter here with them.
So thank you to all of you, even those of you who didn’t know that I was going through this. It was a nice distraction to be able to glance through your posts and try to forget that things aren’t even close to decent. Thank you again and here’s some lyrics to a song that helped me get through today:
I am sorry this is always how it goes
The wind blows loudest when you’ve got your eyes closed
But I never changed a single colour that I breathe
So you could have tried to take a closer look at me
I am tired of punching in the wind
I am tired of letting it all in
And I should eat you up and spit you right out
I should not care but I don’t know how…
I am sorry for the trouble, I suppose
My blood runs red but my body feels so cold
I guess I could swim for days in the salty sea
But in the end the waves will discolour me…
So I take off my face
‘Cause it reminds me how it all went wrong
And I pull out my tongue
'Cause it reminds me how it all went wrong
And I cough up my lungs
'Cause they remind me how it all went wrong
But I leave in my heart 'Cause I don’t want to stay in the dark…”
- Of Monsters and Men, “Organs”