What’s it like to want to die? What on earth brings a person to such a place? How does someone find themselves in a place where suicide even becomes a thought? For me it was my dueling inner torment. The one side who knew she was a murderer, lier, thief, deserving of nothing but death. The other side, who just wanted to keep on keeping on, who wanted to live.
Dueling inside of myself, there are the two of me.
“Shall I take the codeine?”, says one. The other answers, “No. You want to live.” – “Shall I shoot myself?” “No. you want to live, and besides it’s too messy” – “Shall I swerve into oncoming traffic?” “No. You want to live, and besides it might not kill you straight out and then what?” – “Shall I take this bottle of prescription Tylenol with all of the liquor in the cabinet?” – “No. You want to live.” – “Shall I quit eating? Quit hydrating?” “No. You want to live, and besides you’ll be mean to those you love.” – “Shall I drink until I can no longer?” “No. You want to live, and besides if you do you’ll feel awful” – “Shall I quit?” “No. You want to live.” – “Shall I cut myself, make myself bleed? I know how to make it hard to save me.” “No. You want to live, besides you don’t like pain.” – “What shall I do then? I cannot live like this!” “Exactly. You cannot live like this, so change.” – “How?” “Change what you think. Change how you treat yourself.” – “What do you mean?” “Treat yourself like you would treat those you love.” – ” Love?” “Yes, that too. You must love yourself.” “But I don’t. I hate who I have been.” “Then change how you are.” – “But I don’t know how.” “That is OK. You don’t have to know how. Just trust yourself.” – “I’m scared.” ” Good. It’s scary.”
This is just an example of a conversation I’ve had over and over in my mind as I try to sleep at night. I know all of the medicines in my medicine cabinet, and all of the lethal doses for them as well. I also know what I have in my garage and in my kitchen that I could use to kill me. This knowledge is dangerous and deadly. I don’t like knowing what I know because it scares me. What it all comes down to is that if I did choose to die I could do so and I could do so well enough that no one could save me if they tried. Yet. Here I am. I haven’t had this conversation now for a long time, almost two entire weeks. Yes, two weeks is not a long time. I get it. But to me it is. When you contemplate suicide it consumes you every moment of every day and even in your dreams. It’s not something you take lightly and it’s not something that will fix things.
The big change for me is the uniting of my duality. I have come to recognize that I am who I am because of who I have been. I am finally giving recognition to my feelings, my pains, my hurts, my regrets. I am placing the blame and hate and anger on those who deserve it rather than myself. I recognized that I needed someone besides myself and I sought help because of the voice inside of me that wants to live. Living is amazing.
The quiet that now comes is hard to describe. That negative, lost voice inside is now just another piece of who I am and it no longer consumes me. I am breathing fresh, vibrant air. I am filling my soul with the wonders that surround me; with the scent of my child snuggled up close, with the sound of another speaking his love. I am finally enjoying the touch and the taste of living fully. I created myself a sanctuary and yet my peace never came because of my dueling. Once I was able to stop the dueling I finally found my peace. Learning to be authentic is not an easy task. At once you must quit lying to yourself and then quit lying to others. Learning to speak your mind in love is also difficult. There are many who do not want to hear.
Being authentically you is simple, it’s just saying f*ck it. Easy? Not in the least. It’s hard as sh*t.
Please get help if you are where I was. Go to https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ or call 1-800-273-8255 in the US. Or google it where you are. It helps to get out of your head, I promise.
thanks for reading,
PS: A good book on stopping the duality is The Wisdom of Insecurity by Alan W. Watts.