What do you call someone who wants to die but isn’t necessarily suicidal?
I mean, I just do not want to live. I cannot explain it, this feeling has lingered for as long as I can remember. Eight years old jumping from my bedroom window thinking that was enough to kill me. Twelve years old eating a bit of rat poison with my meals thinking it was going to be enough to kill me. Sixteen years old cutting myself deeply with a blade on my thigh because that day in my science lesson I learned that there was a main artery located there. Eighteen years old taking enough pills to have me hospitalised and then sectioned under the mental health act- again. I share this freely with you simply because I no longer care. But now, I have reached a stage of growth where I do not want to kill myself, I personally believe that I just don’t own that right to kill myself. Yet, I still want to die.
I anticipate my death. I embrace everyday knowing that it’s a day closer to the day I will cease to exist on this earth. Yes, I am simply waiting to die. And I can’t help but feel this way. No matter how great my life is going right now, I can’t shake this feeling off. How do I explain this to the people that love me the most without upsetting them? Please understand that this is not a sad feeling, or one filled with despair or self-pity. It’s unexplainable, but if I were to associate one word with it, I’d describe it as a comforting feeling.
There have been days where I fantasise about dying. Reading through suicide pact forums, researching ways to die quickly, writing suicide notes etc. Like, I enjoy flirting with the idea of suicide. Ask me how I will kill myself and be prepared for a dissertation on 1000 ways to die. I am disgusted with myself. I feel sick. Am I sick? What type of person doesn’t want to live? Sometimes I truly do despise myself for feeling the way I do. Everyone says I have so much potential, and it’s not even like I don’t see this for myself. Quite simply, it makes no sense. And that’s exactly the reason why it hurts so much, it’s so suffocating living every day wanting to die. You know, my parents will ask me about my future plans, kids, marriage, career, the works and I’d engage in detailing my plans for the future and how I’m going to achieve all of this. Truth is, it’s all a lie, it’s all rehearsed. I tell them mainly things they want to hear with just-about-enough elements of rebellious/non-conforming ideas, to seem genuine to them. I cannot imagine life past the age of 27. I literally see nothing.
I have spent nights trying to envision my life at 30 and I can’t. My mind fades to a fuzzy grey like when your tape on the VCR goes all crazy and refuses to play. In my head I frantically press the play button, then the pause, switch it on and off, wind the tape, blow on it, dust it, pressing play till it becomes all too exhausting and I switch it off together. By that point I find myself in tears. I see no future for myself. And I’ll never stop asking myself why.
I realise to a lot of you this sounds so silly. Firstly, I don’t care. However, I do agree. It sounds silly. But to me, it’s all too real. This is the reality I live in.
Well, I’m still hopeful that the same way I have overcome the urge to commit suicide, is the same way I will get rid of this scent of death that follows me and has embedded itself in my mind. Because life is so great for me at the moment and I have just begun seeing the beauty of it. I’m beginning to love myself and I really see no reason as to why I should still feel like I want to die. I’m just existing for now, and that’s okay. I’m okay with that- for now. But I look forward to day that I start living. Everyone keeps pointing out improvements in my attitude towards life and how much more positive I’ve become. I want to spread good energies and in order to do that I must generate good energies. It’s literally just this daft sense of wanting to die that holds me back from being the person I really want to be.
I am not sad, nor am I happy. It’s odd because sometimes I feel everything and nothing at the same time. Unexplainable. But I’m beginning to like that about me, I like the fact that I can never be fully understood, figured out or solved. The element of the unknown, it’s intriguing, no? I shall stress again, I AM NOT SAD. I am not suicidal. I am simply waiting to die. That’s the point I am at in life. Nothing is set in stone, feelings change and shift and recycle. My journey isn’t over.
Wishing you healing, peace and growth. Love,
The Rose, xo