I am *not* a licensed mental health professional.
RESOURCES available at AFSP and 988 and NAMI and one of my favorite resources for Black women and non-binary individuals, The Loveland Foundation. (These are also copied again at the end of the post.)
Today is suicide prevention day. As I sit here writing this, it’s the night before. I had no idea that today was the exact day, as I was writing all this- truly. Eerie.
I was going to publish this another time, but now I feel like it has to be today.
I posted last year, around this time, about my unaliving attempts.
And a lot of people in my life didn’t respond the way I expected. And that’s completely okay and valid. Seriously. And it was also kind of hard.
And here I am, talking about it again.
But this time — I’m talking directly to survivors (like myself) and people still considering it.
Everyone else is welcome to read too. I totally encourage you to do so.
I’m nervous to post this. I’m worried it’s imperfect. I know it’s imperfect.
But I know that if I reach just one person, it’s enough.
And I know that talking about suicide imperfectly is better than not talking about it at all. Because not talking about suicide does not prevent suicide. And talking about it doesn’t cause it. Those are just facts.
That being said, take care of yourself, as always, and make the choice whether to read on or read something else - based on what is best for you today.
When we tell people that we don’t want to be alive anymore, and they say ‘things will get better and you just need to hold on’ — I don’t think they realize how much they’re underestimating our pain.
The idea of some hypothetical good future is no match for the excruciating pain that has made me/us no longer be on this planet.
When I wanted to end my life, I didn’t need a distraction from the pain or a promise that it would get better. I needed someone to sit with me in it. I needed to know that it’s normal to feel this way. I needed to know that I wasn’t weak for feeling like I wanted to end it all. I needed to know that survival is hard and that I was capable of surviving.
It doesn’t make sense on paper, but the surrender is what saves people.
Glossing over the pain and throwing tons of coping strategies at us isn’t what saves us
What saves us is realizing that it’s okay to need saving every day. There is no magic cure for the excruciating pain that life brings. There is nothing wrong with you if that pain feels insurmountable.
You are not bad.
You are not bad.
You are not bad.
Even if you’ve done “bad things”
Even if you have “bad thoughts”
I promise you from the bottom of my heart, you can feel all of these intense, sharp, agonizing feelings inside of you, and survive.
I promise you from the bottom of my heart that ending your life will not solve anything — even if you’re 100% convinced that that’s true.
So what do we do? If leaving all this pain behind isn’t the answer, what is?
Survival. I think survival is the only answer.
And you can do whatever you need to do to get through the night and survive.
You can free yourself from the judgment of people who have no idea what you’re going through - and survive.
I have no idea when it will get better.
But I know that it can get better.
But the only way it gets better is if you survive.
It does not matter how close you are to the edge.
If you are here reading these words, you have a chance to survive.
And I hope to God that you take it.
I’m really glad I did.
I came very close to not taking that chance.
Several times.
My life is a miracle.
The fact that I’m alive is a miracle.
You are not exempt from miracles.
You have that same chance.
I won’t pretend to know your circumstances.
I won’t pretend to know how hard whatever you’re facing is.
You can admit that it’s hard.
And scream at the sky.
And rail at God.
And think everything is impossible.
And survive.
You can think, ‘wow, she does not understand me at all, who the hell does she think is?’ and survive.
As long as you are not hurting anyone, you can do whatever you need to do in this moment to survive.
When I say “as long as you’re not hurting one’ — please know that that includes you.
Please stay.
Please stay.
Please do whatever you need to do to stay.
Below are some other pieces about surviving that you might enjoy.
If writing like this is comforting to you or holds any value, and becoming a paid subscriber is not feasible at this time, just email me.
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RESOURCES available at AFSP and 988 and NAMI one of my favorite resources for Black women and non-binary individuals, The Loveland Foundation
