What they don't tell you

[holocene]

ST for explicit mentions of suicidal ideation

The chaos of life remains unmatched.
I am alive, I am here, I am calm. I struggle to write this, but for the last three days I had thought soon maybe I wouldn’t be here and I was never as close to it as then. Mental illness is a truly despicable thing that works in such inexplicable ways.
Two days ago I thought I had died. Yesterday I thought I was dying. Today I am alive and grateful for it. If not for me, then for everyone else in my life.
This morning I was told that my grandfather might die in the coming days. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but what an awful mess I would have made, had I killed myself yesterday. Two funerals in two weeks? Inconsolable grief for my mother. I am glad I stayed, if only for that.
The thing they don’t tell you about killing yourself is the absolute chaos that ensues. Before and after you have done it. Even after you didn’t do it. I have been close to suicide many times, but never as close as yesterday and never as rationally prepared for it. It wasn’t rationale that kept me alive these past days, it was my body putting up the fight of its life, shaking and convulsing and putting me to sleep from exhaustion.
I am here and I am grateful, but I wish I had been told how strange it is to live after death. There exists a version of myself who hanged herself with the extension cord from the pole in the bathroom. I am not that version. I called my sister, I told her to throw away the cable, I told her what had happened to me. Showing her the reality of my suffering snapped me out of the emotional numbness I had been stuck in. But I was still there and I am still here now.
No one tells you that. I cancelled plans and talked to a friend on the phone for a few hours. I didn’t tell them I had almost died. I didn’t tell that to my grandma after cancelling our night in the theatre. I sit in the aftermath of not having killed myself and I didn’t think there would be this much carnage. Nothing matters if you die, everything matters if you live. Everything still matters. When I called my mother this morning and she told my about my grandfather, she then asked me how I was doing, what my week had been like and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. Not even the stripped down version of „I had a rough couple of days.“ Instead I listened to her talk, thinking to myself that we might have never had this conversation. And what destruction that would have brought.
Now I will walk through life with yet another secret. I am okay with this trade off, but the solitude this brings doesn’t escape me. I wish people knew to be considerate of my frailty without having to tell them where it stems from. Life keeps going, if you live or die. The only difference is who it keeps going for.
Today I am glad to be here, for them but also for me.

[Jonesy]

Hi holocene

Mental illness is a truly despicable thing that works in such inexplicable ways.

I wanted to let you know that I hear you in a massive way and offer company should you wish to write again. I am also glad that you are here this day.

[Scars]

holocene,
i hear you
what COURAGE!
where does it come from?
it isn't in me, but somehow it finds me
at the exact nanosecond it's needed.

do you feel like that?
scars

[Progress]

Holocene, I am so glad you are here. It is so unfair what you have been going through. Your words speak volumes. I am so sorry you have been at the point of utter despair and death. You matter. You have courage and a shining light that make a difference in this world. You deserve to be able to speak your truth to those around you who love you, and you deserve help. You are precious and worth it. I wish you all the courage and strength in the world to get through these dark days.

Progress

[holocene]

Thank you for your responses. They have brought tears to my eyes (in a good way). It took a me good week after I posted to really reenter life. I had support from my therapist who knew what had happened and from my parents who didn't know what had happened. It took me almost seven days to feel rooted in life again, to get rid of the feeling that death was still lurking, waiting. Then it took me another four days to recharge.

I wanted to thank you, Jonesy, for being the first to comment. It meant a lot to be seen by you and be acknowledged in the validity of my pain.

Scars, thank you for your words. I don't know where it comes from and I don't know if it is courage. I think more so than courage it is kindness. I don't feel brave, I don't feel courageous, I suppose I still am, but it doesn't feel that way. I do feel kind though. It's a feeling I can feel for myself only so rarely, but it sits in the darkest corners and floods the well to carry me above ground. I think it was kindness that saved me.

To Progress, I reread your words to find my own to answer, but I keep tearing up instead. I desperately wish I could show myself truly to those I love, but it is because I love them that I feel I cannot. Maybe there will come a point, maybe one day I will be able to. But until then or should that day never come, it is a gift to be seen and heard by you and I appreciate you so dearly.

[Jonesy]

It's really good to see you again holocene