I have been suicidal for pretty much the entire time I have been on this planet. It may not seem obvious to most people. I haven't slit my wrists or OD'd. I haven't painted the wall with my brains so people think I am OK. However I am far from ok. I am better today than I was before, but I still have moments. Some forms of suicide are obvious and others are more subtle.
For many years I prayed my entire existence would just end. That I would DISAPPEAR from the face of the earth or that the earth would open up and SWALLOW me. I did things. Things that would have probably KILLED most people. Dangerous stupid things.I did them hoping, praying that they would somehow ERASE me. All I wanted was for the pain to just STOP. It hurt so badly and if I could just VANISH, then the pain wouldn't be able to find me. I just wanted it to STOP.
When these moods come, I tend to disconnect from myself. Put myself in extremely dangerous situations, but what most people don't realize is that I truly don't know how much danger I am in. I truly can't see how far down the rabbit hole I have fallen. Sometimes I don't even know I am falling. There are times, even now, when I think is this all really worth the struggle? Would it be easier to just fall inside of myself and let the darkness take over? To just sit in the corner and cease to EXIST?
It does scare me sometimes that maybe one day I will fall into myself and I will get so lost I won't be able to find my way back. Then another part of me thinks, would that really be so bad? Letting the insanity take over?
I think what most people don't understand is that people who commit suicide don't want to die. They just want the pain to STOP. Most of the time they don't even realize they are committing suicide. The first time I attempted suicide I was 13. Severely depressed. It wasn't something I planned or thought about. One Friday night I walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet to look for the nail clippers, instead I saw bottles of pills. Some my mum's. Some my Gran's. Some mine. Before I realized what I was doing, I had taken half of them. I returned the empty bottles back to their place in the medicine cabinet, walked to my room, and simply lay down to go to sleep. I left no note. I had not consciously planned it. It just happened.
Before anyone starts getting the wrong idea, I am not suicidal. No need to go calling anyone. These are just thoughts that I think most people with PD struggle with. Fighting insanity is a constant battle that doesn't ever end. After fighting for so long, you begin to wonder if it's really worth the battle.