I Don't Care That I'm Suicidal Anymore, and I Wish Other People Didn't Either
If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741741.
I don’t care that I’m suicidal anymore.
This isn’t me waving a white flag, signaling to the world that I’m about to cave in a long and arduous battle between me and my suicidality and thus I’m writing my goodbyes. It’s the complete opposite. I’m at peace with my suicidality, because I know nothing is going to happen.
Let me backtrack:
I’ve been chronically suicidal, ranging from moderate to severe ranges of passive to active suicidality for the better part of the last decade. I’ve had moments where I’m happy I stayed alive and moments where I’m bitter and resentful toward myself for not following through with it prior in life. Every time I thought things were “getting better” and it was “worth it,” something else came along in life to prove the opposite. I fought the suicidal thoughts to the best of my ability, because “it isn’t normal to feel this way,” or so I’ve been told, but honestly? It was for me.
I tell people the reason I don’t see my attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) as a disability (even though it is) is because it’s as natural to me as breathing. Sure, things can get tricky and the world doesn’t really accommodate it, but for me personally, it doesn’t disrupt my life or day to day in the way it does for a lot of people. I see suicidality in the same way.
Suicidality isn’t healthy or OK in a lot of ways because it’s a slippery slope. When thoughts go back and forth between passive and active, it’s easy for those thoughts to manifest in potentially negative and harmful actions, and for me, it has in the past once or twice, but I didn’t follow through for the same reasons I don’t know.
Most “normal” people don’t experience suicidal thoughts, but I do. They come to me with the same flippant tone as “I need to walk the dog,” or “I didn’t drink water today.” Passing fleeting thoughts that don’t interrupt or disrupt my daily life. I can speak to my suicidality and the fact that I can’t confidently say I’m happy to be alive while fully knowing I’m not going to, and never will, take actions to end it. Not because of some big milestone like marriage or a future family, but rather I’m just not going to do it. It’s one of those, “If I could, I would, but I can’t, so I won’t,” situations and not because of ability or resources available. Rather, I don’t want my dog to be alone and I have this thing happening in two years that I kinda need to stick around for. That, and I have a flight I already spent money on so I don’t want to waste money there. It’s more of a scheduling situation where I’m booked out for the next 15 to 16 years at least.
People try to talk to me about my suicidal thoughts like it’s a problem, or something I should be concerned about, and once upon a time I was, but then I stopped fighting it. I stopped caring that I was suicidal. Fighting it only made it worse whereas leaning into the thoughts helped me actually navigate them and all the other associated feelings of loneliness, grief, and despair. Accepting my suicidality and its incessant and pervasive nature, made me able to function alongside it. Like Eddie Brock and Venom or Banner and The Hulk, my suicidality is a part of me that the more I work with it versus against it, the more I’m able to actually live my life (even if I don’t want to).
So yes, I’m suicidal. I’m always suicidal. There isn’t a single day where I’m not suicidal, but I’m at peace with it and I know I’m going to stick around for a long time (sadly). All that being said, knowing I live this way, I keep myself safe to the best of my ability keeping anything I could or would use way out of my reach (because with ADHD I’m nine out of 10 times less likely to try if there’s a barrier in my way even if it’s small). I’m self-aware, but I’m safe. Isn’t that what counts?
If my suicidality isn’t a problem for me, nor does it impact my quality of life in the same way that depression does, then why spend so much energy fighting against it?
I’ve accepted it, and I just wish other people would, too.
Getty image by MoMo Productions