On Being Suicidal...

Trigger Warning: Talks of Mental Illnesses & Suicide.

          I'm suicidal... but no, it's not what you may think.
          I'm safe, I'm not self-harming, and I don't have any plans to die... yet.

          Throughout April, I've been quite suicidal actually, and now that I've gotten an increased dosage of my medication, I feel better, more stable. Yet I'm still suicidal, but just in a grey-area where I don't plan on attempting it nor am I self-harming, but I still "feel" it. It's having these dark clouds above, knowing that I'm safe, and that I'm "stable enough" to function, to smile, to get out of bed, to socialize, yet this wave of anxiety tells me to be afraid, to be careful, because we will never know when the dark clouds will consume me. It's like having a monster within me, and I'm just living, waiting to be eaten from the inside. I know I'm being controlled by the medication, and I'm grateful for how it helps me to regulate my moods, yet I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being sad, I'm afraid of myself without the medications. I'm afraid of wanting to die...

          My therapist asked me, "So your depression says: 'I want to die', acting as your little suicidal voice within you. Yet what does Leon say, what do you reply to that thought ?"
          I paused, and answered, "Leon says... 'wait'."

          Wait, I can't die, because my work isn't done yet. I need to finish my high school education, I need to make sure that my mom's okay, I need to make my brother believe that I love him, I need to spread awareness and educate, I need to be an activist, I need to work on the relationships I've failed, I need to let those who've left me know that I'm still thankful for them, I need to learn how to love better... I am surviving, by my responsibilities. I am surviving, because I still need to do so much for the world. I will only die when I have nothing else to give. I've already failed at loving others and maintaining most of my friendships, but I'm still giving back as an activist, as a student, and as a daughter. I've lost so many people in life while I was unstable, now that I'm finally "stable", I can't mess it up again. So wait, wait because your work is not done, and it'll be irresponsible to leave. I don't have any friends to stay alive for, but I have an audience to stay alive for. And my mother, who needs me, who has also been dealing with depression for years, who is also surviving by responsibilities. She admits to me, that she stays alive by reminding herself of her motherhood, of her children.

          I'm also waiting, for happiness. I'm waiting, telling myself that there'll be hope. Taking medications and going to therapy, I want to believe that it gets better, yet it really doesn't. It doesn't always get better for some people, we just have to get stronger. We have to get better, because life doesn't. We have to keep fighting, and keep going forward.

          Stay Strong.