Confession of a Former Suicidal Person

It started 15 years ago, when my mom had to relocate because of her work. I was turning 13, an only child. What choice did I have? My mother took me with her, leaving my dad alone in our beloved hometown. They were not officially separated; only entering into what would be years of Long Distance Marriage.

Let’s talk about how that affected me. I remember being upset because I had to part ways with my friends. It felt as if mom was forcing me to do something against my will.  I was born and raised there, so it’s not easy for a 13 year old. As young as I was back then, I had already been exposed to news and information of people killing themselves. My mom has always taught me that suicide is one of the deeds that God hates so much. In the afterlife, you will stay in hell for eternity if you commit suicide.

 

The moving marked the beginning of life-long pain and obsession with suicide for me. When there were news on TV about teen suicide, or when I watched a soap opera in which a character takes her or his own life, I felt the urge to follow their paths. I thought that it would stop the pain, and would make people feel sorry for the pain they had caused me. I never had the guts to take my own life though.

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Years passed by and I stopped being an angry 13 years old. I managed to graduate from high school and even survived college. God knows I already forgave my mom a long time ago. Still, it hasn’t stopped the thoughts of killing myself. The pain caused by my family was replaced by others. When my high school friend gave me a silent treatment for no apparent reason,  when I didn’t get a good mark, or when my crush didn’t reply to my messages, I wanted to kill myself.

Two years ago, I was left heartbroken by a jerk. While the wounds had not completely healed, another jerk did the same thing. It felt twice as hurt than the first one and it almost cost my life. I was afraid that I could never love anyone ever again.

I talked to my mom about this and it freaked her out. She said that she could never live, if I committed suicide. My relationship with my mom is pretty typical, it’s full of ups and downs. Whenever I thought that my mom doesn’t get me, I deliberately tell her to get in my way or she’ll see me with my neck hanging on the ceiling of my bedroom. I think I am way too liberal with the word suicide and I might take the word for granted.

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But it always kills me every time I read the news about people committing suicide, and how much I wish they never did that. I couldn’t stop thinking that their heart must have hurt so much that they decided to take their own lives. I thought about the physical pain they had to endure in the act of suicide.

You might wonder why am I still alive. Let me tell you. I might not always be suicidal, but the thought still occurs to me once in a while. In my dark days, when I see a piece of wire or a rope, I feel like tying them to the ceiling to hang my neck with. When I pass a tall building, I feel like taking a leap of death. Yet it stays a thought, never turning into action.

Could this be a proof of how much I want to live?

Asides from my mom, I had never told anyone else about this until a few months ago, when I shared the thought to a friend. I told her everything and she shed some tears. We ended up having a deep conversation about this. She told me that human’s body has a way to endure pain, so it is a human nature to seek survival.

I am meant to live, and so are you. Death is not something that we can control, so why chase it? It will come to you one day. For anyone who is still struggling with your pain, remember this. This might not help ease your pain, but you truly deserve to live. And your life is worth it.