I have suicidal thoughts, but I’m not suicidal.
For those who haven’t, I’ll elaborate as best as I can.
Not every day, but on a pretty consistent basis, I imagine my death. Vividly. Even down to being found and what the reaction would be. I think about who would care, what people would say. How it would or wouldn’t affect others’ lives. How much better everyone’s lives would be without me. If I just didn’t exist.
That’s the thing: I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to exist.
I don’t want that out of selfishness, but in fact, for those around me.
I hate feeling like a burden. I hate being a downer. I hate being an over-the-top upper. I hate that my husband has to be there for me and listen to me cry and groan and yell and be all over the place. I hate that I bother co-workers and friends with my awkwardness and hyperness and depressing energy, the way I pull away and get quiet when I’m all in my head.
Things are hard for me, yes…but it’s so hard for those who surround me too.
I don’t want it to be this way for anybody. Therefore, I truly wish I didn’t exist.
But don’t fret. I don’t need to be rescued. I am completely safe. I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to exist.
If you or someone you know needs help, visit our prevention resources page.