Confronting My Suicidal Ideations And Reminding Myself Why I Should Stay Alive

By

Trigger Warning

There have been times when everything in my life is so very chaotic and spiraling out of control, and the only way I feel that I can slow down the craziness is to think about suicide. I mean really think about it.

You see, I would never end my life by cheating the clock, but you would never know this, at least not while my mom and dog are alive. Both are reasons that I am, for the most part still breathing.

There have been many occasions where I have thought to myself this exact thing, “Death has got to be better than what I’m going through.” I used to think and say that jokingly until it wasn’t so funny anymore until I started thinking about it when things were going down the shitter at warped speed, or at least, that’s how it seemed and felt at that very moment.

However, there is one thing that I do have control over, and that is my Life, and whether to end it or not. No one else can decide that for me. I get to choose where, when, how, and if I want to. Location, time, and choice are all key things to consider when contemplating suicide.

In my life, when all else fails, when everything seems to be a battle and feeling marginalized by humanity is a constant state of being, I have the final say to step off the Grand Canyon, or not. For whatever reason, I’ve chosen the Grand Canyon to transition into my next life, to release my Soul. Falling into the vastness of the Canyons seems appropriate for someone who feels invisible to the rest of the world almost every day.

I sit quietly, close my eyes, and sway back and forth, imagine sitting on the very edge of the Grand Canyon, both legs dangling over the edge. I can smell the air and feel the wind blow. I’m wearing hiking shorts, t-shirt, and hiking shoes, of course. My hair is loose and not in a ponytail or barrette. I feel the sun on my face. I feel free and light and nothing can touch me here. The freedom I have to make the most important decision is overwhelming and powerful. Choice is empowering.

I feel every single one of my heartbeats, hear every breath I take, feel every pulse in my fingertips. And now I think to myself that if I jump, it’s over. It’s a done deal, no going back. Is that what I really want to do?

I never have to go back to face and feel the pain of my failed dreams daily.

I never have to face my regrets again.

I never have to see the disappointment on my mom’s face because she wanted me to be something and I was something else.

I never have to see my shitty ex-boyfriend who physically assaulted me and screamed obscenities at me.

I never have to see the police officer who didn’t believe me when I told him.

I don’t have to go to work at my crappy desk job.

I don’t have to pay bills, cleaning my condo, or do laundry – copious amounts of laundry.

I won’t have to plan for retirement – because I’ll be dead.

I won’t end up alone in a nursing home with no-one to come to visit me.

I won’t have to face coming home to an empty condo. A home filled with stuff to fill the void of loneliness; meaning nothing more to anyone except a perfunctory greeting, nod, and useless small-talk.

Then I cry and think about how pathetic I made my life seem and sound.

But for all those shitty things, by staying alive…

I get to create new dreams to replace my regrets.

My mom loves me no matter what I am.

I was strong enough to stand up to my ex and walked away with my life; I’m a survivor and no longer a victim.

I am a stronger advocate and voice for victims of violence when the justice system fails them.

I have a job and someone here thinks I’m good at it—no matter how crappy.

Being an adult has its’ perks, I am independent and can pay my own bills.

Coming home to a clean home and fresh laundry is the best thing ever.

And I’m not retired yet.

As for the emptiness, it’s not emptiness.

It’s a blank slate, a pause in time, a clean canvas that I get to choose how I want to carve out my path in this Life, how I want to live the next second, minute, hour, day, and year. Being alone has helped me build strength and independence in who I am. It’s given me time and space to think about who, what, where, when and how I want be, and present to the rest of the world.

I am my best friend. And best friends don’t let best friends jump.