I met a boy the other day who at his young age has decided dead might be a better option than the world he's living in. I wanted to hug him and shake him at the same time. Since I've been in that state of mind before and know how the hopelessness just buries you alive I empathize with him. Because I've come through it and emerged stronger, I want to shake him. Snap him out of that mindset.
But I can't. I couldn't snap myself out of it. There is no snapping out of depression. There are days when the sun warms instead of burns and some days that's the best you can hope for. I will never forget the days when all I could do was look around me to see what could kill me. If I jumped from this balcony, would it kill me? If I just let go of the wheel and stomped on the gas, would I end up dead or just in the hospital? I stood a little too close to edges. I felt the blade until the blood started showing.
I showed the world a happy face so they would leave me alone. I thought that if I couldn't be happy there was no point to life. That combined with low self esteem was a lousy combination. My plan was to kill myself in the bathtub slitting my wrists. I didn't want to leave a mess behind because I thought I wasn't worth the effort of cleaning it up.
I never went through with it. Partly because I'm not a fan of pain, partly because I had a shred of hope left, and partly because I was afraid of messing that up too. I came very very close one day. I had called my friends to say goodbye. They didn't know that of course. They thought I was calling for a quick chat. I went for a walk around the neighborhood saying my silent goodbyes to my home and the world. I took a knife from the kitchen drawer and slowly started to run it over my hand.
Now comes the part where you'll think I'm insane. No worries. I'm used to it.
I heard a voice. It seemed to come from everywhere around me. It was loud and sounded slightly perturbed. But there was also a feeling of immense love.
"Who are you to destroy what I have created?" said the voice.
I threw the knife so hard across the room that it stuck in the wall. I shook with tears and relief and shock and awe.
If God wants me alive, I'm sticking around. Obviously there are plans for me.
No. I've never heard that voice again. I don't need to. In the darkest moment of my life, God was there for me. And God always will be.
I've had bouts of depression since but I've never considered suicide as an option since that day.
This isn't a story I share easily. Too many people will judge me as insane for it. I wasn't hallucinating. I'm not making this up for attention. It happened. Choose to believe or disbelieve as you will. But don't try to make me say it wasn't real.
Please be kind in your comments, if you have any.
But I can't. I couldn't snap myself out of it. There is no snapping out of depression. There are days when the sun warms instead of burns and some days that's the best you can hope for. I will never forget the days when all I could do was look around me to see what could kill me. If I jumped from this balcony, would it kill me? If I just let go of the wheel and stomped on the gas, would I end up dead or just in the hospital? I stood a little too close to edges. I felt the blade until the blood started showing.
I showed the world a happy face so they would leave me alone. I thought that if I couldn't be happy there was no point to life. That combined with low self esteem was a lousy combination. My plan was to kill myself in the bathtub slitting my wrists. I didn't want to leave a mess behind because I thought I wasn't worth the effort of cleaning it up.
I never went through with it. Partly because I'm not a fan of pain, partly because I had a shred of hope left, and partly because I was afraid of messing that up too. I came very very close one day. I had called my friends to say goodbye. They didn't know that of course. They thought I was calling for a quick chat. I went for a walk around the neighborhood saying my silent goodbyes to my home and the world. I took a knife from the kitchen drawer and slowly started to run it over my hand.
Now comes the part where you'll think I'm insane. No worries. I'm used to it.
I heard a voice. It seemed to come from everywhere around me. It was loud and sounded slightly perturbed. But there was also a feeling of immense love.
"Who are you to destroy what I have created?" said the voice.
I threw the knife so hard across the room that it stuck in the wall. I shook with tears and relief and shock and awe.
If God wants me alive, I'm sticking around. Obviously there are plans for me.
No. I've never heard that voice again. I don't need to. In the darkest moment of my life, God was there for me. And God always will be.
I've had bouts of depression since but I've never considered suicide as an option since that day.
This isn't a story I share easily. Too many people will judge me as insane for it. I wasn't hallucinating. I'm not making this up for attention. It happened. Choose to believe or disbelieve as you will. But don't try to make me say it wasn't real.
Please be kind in your comments, if you have any.
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