I’ve talked a lot in my blog about how the suicide of my fiance as affected me.  But; I’ve not talked about my own struggles or feelings outside of that experience. 

There have been times in my life where I have wished, for fervently, for everything to just end.  Things seemed too much.  Too dismal.  I just simply did not want to “feel” anymore; and the absence of the pain I was feeling seemed like the ultimate goal; the ultimate escape.

When I was in high school; I tried overdosing on pills.  I ended up throwing them up, and I was fine.  I don’t know that this was a true suicide attempt.  I think I just wanted to dwell, for a moment,  in the fantasy of dying.  At various other times in my life; I have made really poor decisions, dangerous decisions; because I just simply did.not.care.  So what if I did something to end my life, inadvertently. 

When I was a cutter; I never did so with the goal of committing suicide.  But; there was once that I, again, was on the precipice; if it happened, I wouldn’t have cared.  I took a bunch of pain pills, and I cut my wrists.  I crawled into bed and fell asleep.  I thought, maybe I wouldn’t wake up and that would be ok.  Obviously, I did wake up and there was hell to pay after that.

After J died; I was really angry.  Not because he had committed suicide (at first).  But because he left me behind.  I wanted, so badly, to join him in nothingness. Why did he get to escape the pain, and I had to live through it?  I was also mad at myself.  I knew that if I had not run away the day he pulled the gun out and put it to his temple; that he would have killed both of us.  Why couldn’t I have just stayed?  He would have done the hard work for me; and I would no longer be in pain either.  I even told myself that it would have been for the best.  I was through ruining lives and fucking everything up.  Everyone would be better off if I had gone down with him.

From what I understand; the loved ones of someone who has committed suicide are at a very increased risk of committing suicide themselves.  Believe me; I spent a lot of time wishing that I had died along with him.  But; I also knew what it felt like to those left behind.  I knew the pain, very intimately, that they went through.  I knew the guilt, the despondency, the helpnessness and hopelessness.  And so, I also knew that I could nevver, no matter how bad I felt, do that to anyone I cared about.

That has gotten me through a lot of rough days in the past year.  Days when I really didn’t think I could hold on.  Days where I thought that the pain inside of me was too much to bear.  Days when I would have giving ANYTHING to stop feeling what I was feeling.  Moments when I thought that it would be better for everyone if I just dissappeared.

As bad as my pain is; I will endure it.  Because I NEVER want anyone to feel the pain that I have felt.  That is what gets me through the hardest, most painful days.  I think of my children; of my family; and of my beloved friends; who have stood by me all of this time – and I just can’t do it to them.  Not after I know the reality of what a suicide does to those left behind.  Regardless of the pain I feel, or the hardships I cause in life; none would compare to the pain I would cause if I decided to voluntarily leave this world.

 

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