Deleted post… Personal stuff.

Previous post that I mentioned before, that I had saved somewhere else.. I decided to repost it..

Turn back now if you don’t wanna read this. I will discuss the fallout of suicide here. In my own personal experience.

I tend to scroll writing blogs. Then I came across this one

And I told myself not to read it. I really did. But… I have a fascination with making myself depressed (and no, it’s not that exactly. It’s more like, what have others went through? and then the fucking curiositiy gets the better of me to where I read and I get depressed.) Yet, she’s pretty spot on.

You wanna know what it feels like having someone you love kill themselves?

Its like a bottomless pit. You sit there and you can’t breathe. Your world stops. You cry and cry and cry until your eyes hurt. You feel like if you cry anymore, all that will come out is blood. You feel like there’s nothing left inside to leak out. Yet every time you close your eyes, you wake up crying. You keep thinking it has to be a dream, it has to be some sort of nightmare. It is a nightmare. An ever-lasting one that you just can’t escape. They can’t be gone, you tell yourself.

They are.

You walk around like a zombie because nothing seems to matter. You question why you are even trying to do whatever it is you are doing

And you blame yourself. If you only realized. If you only did x, y, or z. You replay the last conversation you had with them. Did you say you loved them? Fuck, maybe you were so uncomfortable that you just wanted to get off the phone because deep down, you knew something was wrong. And you replay the last couple of years. Handfuls of conversations. None of them about suicide, but all screaming. Those gigantic, flashing arrows that yeah, something’s wrong. But you didn’t realize. And you blame yourself. You blame yourself for not being there. For not noticing. For believing that whatever happened and made things different became the normal. And that it was “just how they were”

Did I mention you blame yourself?

And you want to die to stop feeling this way, but you can’t because it’s not fair to make someone else go through this.

Then I started to convince myself I’m worthless. Because I’m not as smart, I’m not as talented, I’m not as.. whatever as the person who died. Because, why did they have to kill themselves anyway? They could have done anything. This trend, unfortunately, still hasn’t gone away.

People make comments like “just go kill yourself” and you cringe. Because they don’t understand. They don’t know. They don’t realize how much suffering they are inflicting, not just on the person, but on the family, on the friends, on people who really cared for that person. On you. Because that comment makes you relive the worst period in your life. It makes the nightmares come back. That panic feeling. That ash taste in your mouth.

Or people make jokes about death and killing themselves and you twitch and cringe and don’t know what to say. Because if you speak, you know you’ll blow up. Or you’ll start crying. And you can’t do that.

And god forbid you try to talk to your friends. Because you feel like all you are doing is bringing them down. Because all you are doing is trying to leech the life off of them, trying to see how they can keep on going on living when such a huge part of your own life is gone. The good ones understand and either distract you, or let you cry and talk until you are hoarse. The rest.. Well, you learn who your real friends are and fast.

And then one day you smile again. And the next you still think of them, but you can speak and not choke on the words. You don’t cry anymore. And slowly, you start to function again. Slowly, you notice the sun shining. Slowly, you can start to live again. Your eyes aren’t red rimmed punching bags, and hey, they’d want you to go on living anyway. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Years go by, and you start to forget things. Their laugh, their smile, the stupid way they loved their car and made you learn everything about it. And you blame yourself for not remembering. You panic and search all over for that one picture, just so you can remember again. Yet, every one of their birthdays you sit there, curled up because you just want to call them and hear their voice. You want to tease them and joke and make plans. But you can’t.
My own birthdays make me just as upset because it’s another year without them, another year without his annoying, frustrating comments intertwined with my life. And then I get mad at myself because I shouldn’t think of him that way. And then I miss him even more.

Every single thing reminds you of that person. You can’t listen to music you both shared. Places that you used to love are haunted by the memories. Even now, 6 years later, I still have to turn off the radio sometimes because I just can’t bring myself to listen to a certain song. New music or movies or whatever that strikes your fancy reminds you of that person. You wonder “if they were alive, would they like this?” and you smile, int hat bitter sweet way, because you know they might. But its just another reminder they aren’t here.

And yeah, this is all what I went through personally. What I still go through. Maybe others don’t feel like I do, maybe others can move on faster, are stronger, are.. I don’t know. Aren’t as emotional?

I still feel like a giant part of me is missing.

I still wake up from dreams crying.

And I don’t cry. I refuse to cry in general.

I still choke up and can’t breathe. Can’t talk.

My heart still aches.

It’s not as bad as it used to be, but it can get so bad where all I can do is curl up in a ball and wonder why. You wonder what if.

Whatever you’re going through, please don’t kill yourselves. I’m begging you. Don’t. We need people like you in this world. Keep fighting. Claw your way if you have to. You can do it. Get help if you need to, you’re not alone. You are not weak for asking, you are the strongest person I know.


P.S. I still miss him. I still catch myself believing he's going to walk through that door at any second. I still find myself looking around the room at family parties for him, like it was some aweful, sick joke.

It isn't.


3 thoughts on “Deleted post… Personal stuff.

  1. I have gone through this and more, because it seems as if whenever someone else goes it just reminds you of all the people you have lost. Time is never an issue, yeah you go on living your everyday life but these people are just not part of it anymore. Some days it just hurts.

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