A Lifelong Project 🎲

TW: suicidal ideation.

I debated hard whether I should post this or not. It’s my most raw piece of writing, it may be hard to read. Please do NOT continue reading if suicide is a difficult topic for you. *Please note this is my personal experience.*

Suicidal ideation is the one friend I can count on, forever by my side. You may question why I refer to it as my friend, is it not both harmful and painful? It definitely is, suicidal thoughts are very difficult. They drain you of all energy and leave you feeling depleted. At the same time I have found comfort in them. A sense of security and a feeling of calmness. These thoughts hurt but they also soothe. Sometimes I am afraid, sometimes I am relieved. I have accepted suicidal ideation as something I will always live with, and for myself, that’s okay. Well, it’s not really okay, but nothing can be done. I crave death. I have felt this way for as long as I can remember; it’s progressively deteriorated.

People like to say life is worth holding on, for the little things. For those small moments of happiness, for the places and things you haven’t experienced, for the unknowns the future holds. I don’t care, I seriously do not give a shit. The best example I can give for this is my growth as a person. Self-acceptance of my gender identity and starting my social transition is one of the finest things to have happened in my life because I finally felt comfortable with myself. Understanding my BPD (borderline personality disorder) diagnosis and the recognition of being autistic significantly helped this. I was able to show myself compassion for the ways I feel and behave. I can now acknowledge that I am not “too sensitive”, I am not “too much”, my trauma is valid, and this is who I am.

I am no longer ashamed of being a highly sensitive person and I am not afraid to speak about being trans. Yet, I am still suicidal. In a few years time (if I start medical transition) I may finally be able to see myself in the mirror and feel euphoric. The thought itself is exciting. A physical change however, does not change the person I am inside. There is nothing I want more than death, absolutely nothing. I don’t give a damn if I miss the most beautiful sunset in the world, the new best song from my favourite artist, a new colour being discovered, being able to visit the moon, or whatever else there will be in the future. I don’t care about anything, it’s all meaningless.

Chronic suicidal thoughts are incredibly challenging, I don’t know how much longer I can fight them. Why must I stay alive so others aren’t in pain? To make others feel better about themselves when I am suffering and no one cares. What about my pain? I’ve been suicidal for so long people brush it off, it’s dismissed as not serious. I pray for my life to end. Sometimes I feel heartless and desensitised.

There was a video of a man who killed himself being posted on social media a few months ago, many from the mental health community were warning about it as they were triggered and felt sick. It didn’t come up on my feed but I actively searched it out. I watched it once, then again, and again. I thought to myself I wish that was me. I felt jealous. If I had access to that method, I would do it right now. I open my web browser on my phone and I see links to my favourites: information on suicide methods and ways to achieve lethality. Sounds morbid. Well, I am dark.

My lifelong project refers to suicide. A project I am still working on, one that I’m hoping to complete. I began thinking about suicide methods from when I was about 10, it was the beginning of my research. From that moment I started to put together plans, the things that I could do. Over the years this continued and I’ve had some failed attempts. Not once did I feel regret, rather I was angry at the failure. I will try again, in the same way I have tried to fight back by trying to find support. I am ready to throw myself off a cliff if I need to because this suffering needs to end. I am tired.

Never did I think I’d write this, I am genuinely worried. Terrified. Perhaps a tiny part of me doesn’t want to do this but I’ve exhausted my options. I’ve tried and tried, and now I am just scared. Afraid because only I know how close I am. Maybe this is a final cry for help.

The truth is I need serious help but help doesn’t exist (more on that in my next post) for someone like me. I don’t even have someone to talk to. They say I have a fear of abandonment and then prove my fear right. Please just give me the damn pill to end this shit. I have reached a dead end.

I am sorry.

Sahil ⚡

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