Being that wanting to die is a normal thing for me, I’ve found some things that have helped get me through and keep myself alive. Sharing these feelings with the world is a very raw thing, but I believe that what I have to say will help someone with suicidal thoughts or they will help a family member or friend of someone who is suicidal.
A distinction should be made between “mental health,” and “mental illness.” Caring for our mental health is not the same as treating a mental illness.
I went for years thinking I wasn’t a good enough Christian. That I didn’t have faith. It’s a taunting song still ringing in my head–a lie I have to constantly pray against.
I hope that if you are reading this and think you can’t handle just one more ounce of suffering that you will find comfort in that I know what that’s like.
The pressure on my chest from the stress was physically painful. The medication my psychiatrist prescribed had me living in a fog. I could barely keep my eyes open.
You can’t just wish it away. Wherever “away” is, it will follow you. When you wake up in the morning it is there pinning you to your bed. When you get ready for the day, you fight with every ounce of your strength to do mundane things, like brushing your teeth or pulling up your pants. When someone is talking to you and you have a smile on your face to mask the fact that you aren’t alright, all you want to do is find a dark hole to curl up in so that you don’t have to act like a functioning human being.
Like a gigantic ocean wave washing over a small child, you don’t know which way is up but you need to breathe, you need to think. Or not think. Or…find the ocean floor to rest your heavy body or the open sky to finally catch your breath.