pureandtainted-deactivated20140 said: I'm gonna kill myself, everything in my life means absolutely nothing and I dont see why I should keep going, I cant go on
Everybody please—message him.
I can’t fix things for you. I can’t spin some words together in this message that will radically change your mind—but I can tell you how not killing myself was the greatest thing I’ve ever (not) done.
I was depressed for years, had an eating disorder for years. I won’t drag on about the details; they’re not pretty, nor are they important. The only important thing is that it got to the point where I wanted to die. I had what I thought was a foolproof plan, loophole-free, 100% guaranteed for death. Turns out, I accidentally let someone who only knew me as an anonymous blog know the URL of one of my best friends’. She got in touch, got her to listen, and the both of them called the police on me. I was taken to a crisis center, then a behavioral health facility. In that time, I decided I did want to live.
After hospital, I regressed massively—but I pulled through it. I went back to school in the fall and had breakdown after breakdown and relapse after relapse—but I pulled through it. I still have moments where I want to start restricting or hurting myself again—but I pull through.
I can’t say exactly what made me change my mind, in the beginning. After I was taken out of my situation and pushed somewhere new, I just saw things differently. When I got home, I started making lists: things I was grateful for, things I would live for. They started out as very trivial, seemingly insignificant things—my cats, reading, playing piano. Even if I thought I was awful at it, it still brought me joy. Then I got the opportunity to see Bearcat, the singer Renee Yohe (the inspiration for the charity To Write Love On Her Arms and my personal biggest inspiration). That made the list.
At first, there were people on the list, too. My family, my best friends. I had gotten a taste, just the tiniest drop of wanting to live when I was in the facility—but I needed help taking the first bite. I used the people in my life as crutches, which is more than okay for the first part of recovery.
But eventually, little by little, I began to be okay. I began to want life for myself, more and more. Driving down my favorite road at sunset, windows rolled down, favorite music playing. Staying up with my friends until 5am watching the entirety of AHS season one. Having debates or philosophical conversations with my closest teachers. Sharing my writing at school and getting positive responses.
I was supposed to die on June 24, 2012. It is now March 10, 2014. In three months, it’ll be two years…two years of life I wasn’t supposed to have. So far, in these two years, I have—
- Fallen back in love with writing, and allowed myself to feel confident enough to act on it.
- Read countless incredible novels.
- Watched countless incredible films.
- Made new friends.
- Lost a couple old friends.
- Helped people.
- Been helped.
- Decided on my career.
- Been accepted into my dream school.
- Taken way too many standardized tests.
- Written angry poetry about standardized tests.
- Found some breathtaking music.
- Played some breathtaking music.
- Seen Let It Be on Broadway.
- Seen Ben Howard in Central Park.
- Seen Once performed.
- Seen Season 10’s SYTYCD tour.
- Seen Sigur Ros live.
- Seen Passion Pit live.
- Helped my school put on a murder mystery dinner play.
- Helped my school put on our greatest musical yet—The Wizard of Oz.
- Seen my best friend star in It’s a Wonderful Life.
- Helped my best friends through some hard times.
- Helped some strangers through some hard times.
- Visited family.
- Taken road trips.
- Gotten a tattoo.
- Loved my life.
- Hated my life.
- Kissed some boys.
- Stumbled into love.
- Spent too many hours on Netflix.
- Won some scholarships.
- Learned how do twitter.
- Gotten better.
- And better.
- And better.
- Been inspired.
- Been heartbroken.
- Been loved.
- Been alive.
Life is hard. Recovery is hard. Not dying is hard. Breathing is hard.
But it can be done.
In seventh grade, I decided I was not going to live to graduate high school.
In 2012, I decided I was going to live to see some breathtaking, fantastic, beautiful, tragic, heartrending, heartwarming things.
It was the best decision I’ve ever made. I’m not trying to sugarcoat this for you. It was also the hardest decision I’ve ever made, and the most difficult thing I’ve ever done (and most likely ever will do). Nothing will be harder for you than fighting back against this. There will be days that you will not be able to get out of bed—but you’ll have to force yourself to anyway. There will be days you wish you didn’t make this decision—but you’ll have to force yourself to make it again, and again, and again.
Life is hard. Recovery is hard. But it can be done. You can always find the strength to do this.
Reach out and tell someone. I see you’re on twitter as ProjectLG—let someone be yours. Tell your mother, your father, your sister, your brother, your best friend, your enemy, your teacher, a stranger on the street—tell and tell and tell until somebody listens and you find help. Talk to a doctor, a therapist, a counselor. Find help for yourself. Find someone to help you help yourself.
You can do this. I am here. I am breathing. I am listening. You can be too.