This is not a suicide note.
|"Sis, I'm tired."
"I always allow myself to wallow in my misery but be careful, don't let the hole be too deep."
I'm so far down my dark hole, this is me trying to reach out for you.
Do you know what it took for me to say those words to you? Do you know how long it took me to tell you that?
Three failed attempts. That's how long it took before it took me to say them to you.
I don't know, maybe subconsciously I want to live. No, it's not life that I want. I'm just tired of failing, that's all. That's why I am trying to seek help this time. But then again, I'm failing at that too. You can't hear me. Maybe I'm not saying it loud enough for you. That's as loud as I can say it. Saying it any louder is just impossible for me, I'm sorry.
I have tried, I swear I did. Five years now I have been trying, they just won't let me go. Anxiety and Depression know how hard I've been fighting. They would know, they have been fighting to keep me with them just as hard.
22 years of age and no sign of life in my eyes whatsoever. How could there be? I've been fighting just to get out of bed for as long as I can remember. Breathing is a chore. I sometimes sit and try to will my heart to stop. Hoping against all hope that it would just stop. Obviously, that's just anothing I fail at. What's new?
You don't understand. My God, you don't understand. Every year I find myself right here. It was just last year when I found myself walking from college with a pocket full of pills. I had it all planned out, sat in my room and had it all figured out. Brokedown and cried, not for the life I was planning to end, no. I cried for all the pain I had endured at that time, I cried for holding on for so long. Lord knew I'd been tired then too. I woke up late at night and went to watch our favorite show with you, said goodbye to you and still you didn't SEE, didn't HEAR. I wasn't sad, you know? No, I was actually quite with it.
I got into my room and somehow fell asleep thinking about how one of your kids would find my hopefully cold dead body. I woke up to find that I had only taken one packet before I stopped because I couldn't bear for it to be one of my kids to find me. Remember they woke up and went to my room first thing in the morning. They did the same when they came back from school. Somehow that witch, Hope crept in, I somehow foolishly decided to go on and keep breathing. Why? I'd say I don't know, but truth is that I'm afraid that one of these attempts I will fail and you will find me and then I won't get another chance to try.
Do you know that every time you'd drop me off at the train station in the morning, I'd watch the train come and think of jumping in front of it, but then I'd think, "What I don't die?" Then I get on the train and let it take me to college. Every time I see a huge truck I think the same thing. Think of throwing myself in its way. Let it carry me on its tires and end my painful existence. "But what if I don't die?" Everyone will know then. It's not like the times I drank mom's bottle of pills after I gave her her medication. Why the hell did I survive that? How did I even? I don't know, all I know is that I woke up the next day and I have been breathing ever since.
I am tired. I'm tired of being tired. I wish you'd stop throwing motivational quotes my way, they only make me mad. You don't know what I'm going through. You don't even understand it. I'm soo tired. I just want it to stop. Why isn't this physical? Some people get hospitalized because of this. Why not me? Why?
Don't let the hole get too deep, she says. What hole? I can't see anything, all I hear is an echo of me saying I'm tired. I'm trying I swear I am, but I'm just so tired.