This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.
TW: Suicidal thoughts, loose talk of plans, hints at death.
I feel like I’m in a war zone.
One minute it’s quiet and calm and everything is peaceful and fine and the next I’m being bombarded with ugly thoughts that just won’t quit.
Not good enough, never going to succeed. Never going to make it, what’s the point.
Of course that isn’t what I’m pushing for.
When it comes to my relationship, my wonderful, loving, amazing relationship, I start thinking about running, thinking about how we would both be better off if I just left now, save her the ridiculousness of dealing with me and who I am when I’m like this.
Of course that isn’t what I want.
My brain starts searching for ways out. Ways to die. Reasons that everyone would be better off without me in this world. What’s the most complete way to finish the job. How can I make sure I end it. I go so far as to look things up online when ideas cross my mind. “Overdose on xyz” “how much xyz is fatal” “death by xyz” I wouldn’t want to leave the job half done. I think about the note I would leave on the door, telling Wonder Woman to call 911 instead of coming in. I wouldn’t want her to see my body.
Of course, I don’t really want to die.
These thoughts are my enemy. I hate that they are there. The problem is, sometimes I start to believe them. Sometimes they take hold and I fall down the rabbit hole. It’s a deadly path.
The less I want to think something, the more the thoughts come.
Sometimes I can ignore them. Sometimes I can just let them be thoughts, let them pass through without them taking hold. Sometimes they aren’t even there.
But right now they are loud, and ignoring them feels impossible. Right now they feel like they are attacking me from every angle and the more I fight the worse they are. I can’t find my way to accepting that they are just thoughts and just let them be. I can’t find my way to peace with them because they feel so ugly and so hurtful, and sometimes they feel so true and so real. They feel so scary and so tangible. They are so inconceivable and so possible.
And I’ve seen where they lead, I’ve felt the cold, stiff, outcome with my own two hands.
I don’t want to die and yet sometimes I do.
I just want it all to stop.