I wanted it all to end.
Strangely enough, It got exponentially worse when I found out my latest publication was accepted.
It was a great achievement, don’t get me wrong. I was over the moon, because it started as a 10,000 word labor of love, because it took me and my mentor months to optimize it into the to-be-published version that it is today.
What followed, however, I did not expect. I was bombarded with thoughts that weren’t in my brain before, quite baseless thoughts now that I think back — a resounding voice was broadcasting to every fiber of my being:
Congratulations, you sustained your facade another day, but how long would it be before people find out that you are just faking it and you are too stupid to be doing what you’re doing?
It felt like my stomach got knotted into a mishmash of stress, my heart rate lost control, my brain jumbled into a loofah. Work suddenly looked terrifying. I dreaded going to work the next day. I shriveled inside looking into people’s smiley eyes. I wanted to die doing anything at all, because every little step I took, every little thing I did, would show everyone my true colors, that I’m not worthy of having what I have now.
Then, I started to imagine what people’s lives would look like without me in it. I started to wonder what would happen when I die. I started to imagine that sequence of events. I started to write letters of goodbye.
On Oct 2nd, 2021, I started writing letters of goodbye. Dear mom and dad, dear love of my life, dear mentor, dear friends, my fur ball of joy.
These were statements I never thought I would make, but there I was.
Helpless, engulfed, scared. This feeling of uneasiness, combined with the same daily routine, made me feel utterly worthless and even more petrified to be called out as the fraud I am.
I wanted it all to end.
I grew up in a family where any inkling of mental struggles was categorized as weakness. In middle school, I told my father I wanted to see a therapist. He laughed in my face and told me I just needed to get over it. Even years later while I was in college, at family gatherings, he’d still bring that up and laugh about it as if it was a joke. Talking about struggling with my inner demons I can still yet to name was, and still is, difficult.
I finished writing the first sentence to what would be a goodbye letter to my parents.
I’m sorry, Ba and Ma, that it had come to this.
Then I threw away my pen in a panic, because I was suddenly scared. I wanted it all to end, but I could not be sure that I wanted to die. I felt I was disrespecting the notion of dying. I was afraid to let go, but I was in constant agony.
Boyfriend had long been disappointed in my ability to tell it as it is to him. To him, honesty and communications are extremely important to our relationship. Through our time together, I promised him that I’d be honest about everything. NO secret between us.
But that day, I did not have the courage to call him, to tell him that I would almost leave him.
A few days later, I mustered up all the might in my body to call him. As I’m writing this, I remember myself barely holding it together. I was trying to pick apart my life to find why, but I was shuddering, unable to say what I did. Even after I told him, I was still lying, saying that I’d be okay.
I’m ok. I’m gonna be fine.
I kept telling myself that things would get better. I kept telling myself that things would get easier. When things didn’t get better, it only reinforced my idea that I shouldn’t have had any hope in the first place.
I couldn’t imagine what I put my boyfriend through, what it could’ve been for him to hear his partner almost didn’t sit before him that day. He told me he loved me, he would always be here for me, pained restraint in his eyes. My emotional dam completely broke.
Do I really want to die? Yes?
Maybe?
No...?
I can’t imagine doing that to my family, my parents, my partner, my best friends. Life keeps pushing my limits, and in the process I forgot this little glimmer of conviction that has been keeping me going, keeping me alive. And to this day, I am perpetually afraid that in a single moment, I would make the choice that would alter some people’s lives forever.
You might think I would have some uplifting message or solutions about what we can do about those totally bullshit feelings that felt so real and ever so closely dangerous to our hanging onto life by a thread.
But I don’t.
All I can say is that now I am embracing to the best of my ability that demon and learning to coexist. The doubts I had was there for a reason, it was an important part of me that knows my life is not ver yet. I am continuing to try, with an almost childish, stubborn optimism. The only way to fail is to abstain from trying.
I can’t say that now everything has changed, and I’m suddenly all happy again, because it didn’t and I am not. There will always be bad days, and sometimes worse ones.
But knowing that I survived this truly difficult time in my life gives me the motivation to get through any other bad moments again. It’s given me the strength and determination to carry on.
I need to and am continuing to remind myself daily, that I have a life worth living. I hope you will too.
Join Me in Supporting the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.
I am joining hundreds of thousands of people across the country who are walking in the Out of the Darkness Community Walks to prevent suicide and support AFSP’s mission to save lives and bring hope to those affected by suicide. With funds raised at this event, all will be 100% tax deductible and benefit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), funding research, education, advocacy, and support for those affected by suicide.
On 10/09/2022, I will be participating in the Milwaukee Out of the Darkness Walk at Veterans Park. There is a “Donate” page if you have the spare funds to do so, but please don’t feel obliged. Better yet, learn more about suicide prevention for me, and take care of yourself.
