Today I was driving down the road. I noticed the sky was super clear and decided I was going to go to the beach tonight.
I like clear days because that means clear nights, and clear nights mean you can see the stars when you go out to the beach. (I love going to the beach at night; it’s my favorite place to go to just try and get away from everything for a moment.)
It was after this thought that I remembered a scene from the trailer of Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk (2017) where one of the soldiers walks into his own watery grave (insert Homer Simpson yelling “NERRRRRRRRRRRRRD!”). And for a moment, I thought of doing the same as the soldier.
I though of going to the beach, walking up and then swimming out into the ocean. Swimming until my body gave out and I would just give up. I imagined the split second of what I would feel when the final burst of not wanting to not die kicked in, and then realized I didn’t care.
Now, this wasn’t the first time I thought about killing myself this week.
Thankfully, I’m in a place where I know I won’t actually commit suicide even if it’s just because I have too many responsibilities to just chuck it all away. I’m currently cat sitting for this woman who lost her husband last year. These cats are part of her recovery, so it would be disrespectful to kill myself and let the cats fend for themselves. I have a cat. I love him, and I would feel ashamed if I killed myself and he actually felt grief because I would never walk up the stairs to my bedroom again.
I have parents who love me and I’m afraid that to some degree, they would feel some guilt over something they had no control over.
There are people who have looked at me for inspiration to get through shit in their lives because they believe (for some unknown reason) that I have my life together.
There’s too much riding on me staying alive.
Yet, a couple nights ago I thought about what would happen if I downed the rest of my bottle of Trazodone. I was recently prescribed it to help me sleep, and for a moment I wondered would the whole bottle help me sleep forever.
And lately I feel like I’ve been a liar. I’ve been putting on jokes, and witty comments. Talking like normal as to not raise suspicion among the people around me. Telling bits and pieces, but never the whole of what’s really going on. I don’t want to seem like a downer. I don’t want people to reach out to me because they’re worried. I don’t want to feel like people are hanging out with me because they feel sorry for me.
But there are moments when I’m by myself and I want to scrape and crawl my way into my brain. I want the irrational insecurities and fears in my head to go away so badly I just want to rip my skin off. These medications I’m on help stop my body physically reacting to my anxiety, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts that are pounding louder and louder. I have to keep closing doors on them, but after a while I realize that I’m alone. I’m by myself and I can still hear them. They creep through the drafts and whisper doubt into my head. I try to close my eyes and cover my ears but then it’s like they start yelling at me. I feel like screaming to block them out, but every time I open my mouth it feels like I’m being choked from the inside. So I curl into a ball inside my own mind and hope the thoughts get bored and go away.
Yet they never do. Or if they do, not for long.
I haven’t really told my friends that I’m really struggling right now. I haven’t told my parents. I don’t like the idea of talking about the topic of my mental health with a guy I like. I haven’t told my job. I haven’t told my coaches.
And here I am, telling the entire world. I guess I’m feeling ballsy tonight.
So instead of going to a friend’s 21st birthday, I’m going to the beach tonight.
But don’t worry, I won’t kill myself.
Because I’m okay. Not really, but I’m working on it.
P.S. Also I’m using this photo because I feel like if I did commit suicide they would use this photo with the caption, “Why?” or “How could this have happened?” Also because I think it’s funny that I’m dressed as an elf, while having an elf attached to my scarf.