Suicide: Why I Didn’t Commit

And you shouldn’t either

Tonight, I started writing about my experiences when considering suicide. I got half way through the second paragraph and thought:

Why am I writing this? Who cares?

It’s been about a year since the last time I actively considered ending my life and I’m at a point where I can definitively tell you that there are people out there who read those questions and emphatically, without hesitation said:

“I do! I care!”

So I’m writing this as a reminder, the dark days don’t last forever. There was a time where I stared at the headlights of an oncoming tractor trailer and thought:

“This is it. I want to die.”

The driver will never know that he’s the reason I crossed back to my side of the road. I didn’t want to leave someone else with the guilt of my death. That thought was enough to get me through until I could think clearly again. It got me through until I could remember why I have so much more life to live. In another instance I was sitting on the floor, alone in an empty apartment that had once been so filled with love and laughter. In my hand was a bottle of pills. I was taking them in quick succession, a shake of the bottle at a time, when my phone went off. Flashing on the screen were the words:

“Hey want to hang out tonight?”

The person that sent the text wasn’t even a close friend of mine. She was an acquaintance who I had met in passing. The well timed text message of someone who I barely knew, showed me there were people out there who wanted me in their life. That realization slowed the clamoring thoughts of self doubt and self hatred in my mind long enough for me to get up, purge the pills I had taken and to dump out the ones I hadn’t gotten to yet. I was able to get dressed and get out of my house for the first time in a week.

I’m writing this, so that maybe the next time you think about suicide, you’ll remember that somewhere out there is a stranger who was once in your shoes and who is immeasurably grateful that she had a thought to cling to until she could think clearly again. Cling to this:

It’s a bad day, a bad week, a bad month. It’s not a bad life. It gets better. You’ll get to the light at the end of the tunnel. From one survivor to another, I promise you, it gets better.