Not One More

Driving at night is beautiful. The stars shine over the water underneath the bridge, the lights of the city shine out against the black of the sky, and it’s almost peaceful sitting on the road. The crickets are chirping, the wind is soft blowing in to the open window, my arm is chilled by the wind while the rest of me is warm inside my car. I’m comfortable. Then suicide comes crashing through the roof and suddenly I see myself turning my car violently to the right, straight through the guard rails and into the water below. The car submerges slowly and I sit there quietly screaming inside as the water rises above my head and I sit, still buckled, eyes closed, drifting into oblivion. It starts out terrifying but then ends in quiet and I want quiet. It’s tempting really, if I just floored my car I could make it through the concrete and into the water. Maybe I’ll be passed out by the time it hits the water and it won’t be so painful. Then traffic moves forward and the thought is gone. Panic starts to rise as the bridge comes to an end and I see my chance to drive off of it is disappearing. If I drive off, I’m done with school, done with stress of homework, no more looking at my 74% on a test, no more stress about papers, no more feeling like a failure and a burden, no more annoying mother nagging me constantly about mother, no more stress of life. No more me. This sounds so lovely. I could end it all and not have to battle every day to get out of bed. I don’t have to fake smiles anymore. I don’t have to laugh as I am voted class clown once again and don’t have to shudder as people tell me to become a stand up comedian. I’m told I’m funny all the time but it’s just a mask I wear to hide the thoughts of suicide and escape.

I don’t want to stress for the future. If I take care of myself and take a break from school, I fall behind and come back more stressed than ever. What’s the point? Why not kill myself and relax and forget it all?

These are thoughts I battle everyday. Every single day, someone who struggles with a mental illness commits suicide because they decide to stop fighting. They can be called selfish, cowardly… but I don’t see it that way. In fact, I’m envious. I want to stop fighting too. Those with mental illnesses are the oppressed in this society of pulling yourself up by your boot straps, in this culture of I am so great and I can just “get over” it. We are the ones overlooked because nobody can see our disabilities. I would actually love to wear a tag that says, “I suffer from depression and anxiety. Please love me louder today.” so people know. I feel so uncomfortable talking about it even with people I live with because they don’t understand. I’m not mad at them or bitter, I just feel even more out of place and it’s confirmation that I am rejected and not made for this cut throat society where the weak are cut off from the rest and thrown away because they “didn’t try hard enough”.

I’m seen as lazy for skipping class. I’m seen as annoying for asking for notes. The reality is, I’m lucky I got out of bed that day. I’m so thankful I didn’t slit my wrists in the bath tub as I showered. I’m so glad I ate to keep my body healthy even when I had no appetite. I’m so lucky I didn’t go near the sharp objects to cut myself. I’m proud of myself for even getting dressed and out of bed that day.

These are my small victories that I am looked down for. The oppression needs to stop. I need to be excused from missing class because I’m trying to stay alive and away from an anxiety attack. I am too overwhelmed to be there. I need to be excused from various things not because I’m lazy but because I’m trying not to become a statistic of another person that committed suicide this year. I don’t want my disability reflecting inaccurately my ability to succeed. Do you see how hard it is to stay alive in a society that makes me feel like I shouldn’t be because I’m a failure?

I’m sure I’m not the only one crying not for a hand because I’m drowning in this society. Most people will let us slip through the cracks because we can do it ourselves if we try hard enough but that’s not the case. To those who are willing to stand out and grab a hand, thank you. Thank you so much.

We need your help. I don’t want another suicide to happen because they didn’t get help due to shame. People will hear about a suicide and feel upset for a couple days but then move on with their lives quickly forgetting all of the messages to be kind. I can count about five suicides that occurred in a span of five years when I was in middle school and high school. That’s too many. Not one more, please.


5 thoughts on “Not One More

  1. You’re lucky, to be able to only be able to count 5. My dad knows of only one person who killed them self when he was in middle/high school. I’m in high school currently. February 2014, one of my closest friends committed suicide. He was pushed over the edge by the thought that he could’ve saved one of his friends Ashley, who committed suicide 2 weeks before. there were at least 5 successful suicides at the school he attended within about 3 months. My cousin attempted on her life, she overdosed, but lived. My best friend attempted on her life 3 times. My other best friend almost attempted on his life recently, and I don’t know if he did in the past. His ex-girlfriend, who he’s still friends with, and so am I, has attemped on her life at least 5 times. My ex boyfriend has told me about 7 times that he wanted to. I don’t know why he hasn’t, I don’t know if it has anything to do with any of the things that I said to him during those conversations. One of my close friends messaged me telling me that he was done trying to live, and didn’t want to try anymore, and that he was going to give up and kill himself. I immediately called 911, while my parents did what they could to reach his parents, and then he later told me that he wasn’t serious, but I made it very clear to him that I didn’t care if he thought he was serious or not, because I take that kind of thing very seriously. I don’t want any more of my friends becoming statistics. i recently went into the mental hospital, because I told my mom that I wanted to kill myself. I got out, and made the decision to not be embarrassed about where I had been. because I was alive. And that was a huge accomplishment in my opinion. It’s getting worse these days. More and more people see death as the way out, the way to not feel the pain anymore. People need to see that their words do matter. And that their words very much affect the people that they are talking to. People have no idea if the person they’re talking to just needs that tiny little push to send them flying over the edge, and causes them to end it all. Wouldn’t it be absolutely terrible if the comment they made to someone was what pushed them over the edge? I wonder how they would feel if they told someone to kill them self, and then the next day it hit the news that that person was found hanging off of their shower head. I think that it would be heart wrenching. Lately people have started typing KYS. Which is an anagram for “Kill Yourself” I’ve confronted a few people about it, telling them that they shouldn’t say it, and attempting to explain to them that their words do make a difference, and even if they’re joking, it still has an effect on that person, and even if they’re “joking” that comment had to come from somewhere, and your brain shouldn’t come up with comments ike that, because it fucking hurts.


    1. I am so sorry to hear about those scary times in your life as well as the painful. :/ But I am also so glad to hear you standing up for yourself and for correcting people when they say something that is ignorant. You’ve come a long way and I think that’s something to be proud of. Don’t stop fighting.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow, my soul is crying. As you know I have been seeing an increase in the number of students that I work with that are struggling with mental health issues. I thought I was aware of some of the struggle but not to this depth and intensity. Offering my prayers seems to simple but I know that without God I am powerless to help. I pray for his peace upon you as well as strength and guidance for me to have the gentle and understanding spirit when working with others.


    1. Thank you so much, I appreciate that more than you know. Your students are lucky to have you, someone that is learning to understand, pray for and be there with those who are hurting. You are a true blessing!


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