In Between Death And Not Yet

I always wonder what death tastes like. Is it as sweet as my favorite chocolate bar? Is it as sour as the gummy candy that wakes my mind? Is it as salty as the tears rolling in my cheeks? Or is it as bitter as the aftermath of my pills? What death taste like? Maybe, I’ll always wonder.

Last night, I was about to kill myself. I’ve asked some how many sleeping pills do I need to take until sleeping takes forever? They said overdosing it might kill you. Oh please, it won’t. It won’t kill me anyway. It’ll only take me to a deep slumber that I’ve been wanting for so long now. Would a bottle be fine? I hope so; let’s wait for the best.

Last night, I was about to kill myself.

But I didn’t… I didn’t… I didn’t…

I didn’t because I saw how peaceful my brothers are sleeping next to me. I saw how silent our house is. I saw how my grandparents are hugging each other while asleep. And I know, in a far away place, my mom is busy with her work. I can’t afford not waking up knowing that my brothers will wake up wondering why on Earth am I sleeping for so long. I can’t afford not waking up knowing that my grandparents will wait me for breakfast since I haven’t eaten anything since brunch yesterday. I can’t afford not waking up knowing that my mom will message me the moment she opens her eyes. I can’t afford not waking up knowing that I’ll just pass this tragedy to the people around me.

In between death and not yet, I’ve found hope. In between death and not yet, I’ve found solace.

In between death and not yet, I’ve found myself.

This time, depression and anxiety is already a part of me. This time, I will come to accept that my very own mind betrayed, betrays, and will betray me sometimes. This time, I won’t let sadness eat me. And from this moment, I promise to myself that I won’t attempt suicide again, not ever.

In between death and not yet, life gets better. And the only thing I must do is to make sure that I’ll be there when it does.