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A little story about suicidal thoughts - warning ⚠️ might be unpleasant, disturbing and dark

I was suicidal most of my life... Often I would climb up to the top of buildings and stare on the bottom floor from far up. Yeah everyone has their preferred way...

I remember countless of times crying or being frozen, and dragging myself onto rooftops again and again, totally wet from the rain, dressed in black sweaters in the middle of the summer, be it noon or late night, there was really no time for it. I was experiencing a deep sorrow from life and when I was reaching that dark point where my eyes weren't focusing any longer and my breath was heavy and barely there, I knew I had to go.

People in my life couldn't tell as I was living my life, doing things, just talking long depressive breaks before I come back. But that was me feeling blue. When I was in a good period, I would be even social and having fun, being active with things in life.
The artist's way of life was actually a perfect fit for that behaviour, as my friends would say it's the artists, they are like this.. I never talked to anyone about it, except perhaps some strangers that I won't recall.

Once I tried to schedule an appointment with a therapist for the first and only time. It was during the first lockdown and it had to be done through zoom. I had problems with my computer so finally I cancelled the appointment. I've spent years living with very little money and I couldn't afford therapy and that was one more reason to make me denying it altogether. I couldn't make myself to take that step, and for years I was so very alone with this. I wish I could find the strength to go to a therapist..

For a period I tried punching my head. I would punch my head so hard that the headache was stronger than my thoughts. That was towards the last years, and it kind of was an advise from a friend. He told me to hit my head on the wall if I can't find any other solution. We were having an extreme conversation. Does it sound too much? Well it kind of helped, it would consume my wildest urges for a while.

One day I took some drug (ketamin) in a home with some people. I ended up in the garden, middle winter with rain, getting soaked. The beast was awake and I had the weirdest idea. I told the thoughts that I am going to take you around people.
Never before I haven't seriously thought about suicide while being next to my friends. This time I went there, sat nearby them and I actively brought these thoughts up in my mind. It was weird, to sit there with them laughing and only I knew what was inside me. That event was important, I didn't confront my thoughts, I just allowed them to be there, to appear where I wouldn't normally allow them to be..

In the course of events my attitude has changed... What worked for me, but I am not sure that it's for everyone, was to allow myself... Allow myself to get into my suicidal self and act it out.
I have reached that red point where none could help me. Like a scared dog I was showing my teeth even to the loveliest of people in my life. I alienated and dragged myself to the most absolute solitude.
None could help, I had to face this.

After I gave permission to myself, but truly gave permission (one of my darkest and loneliest moments really) I was nearby the sea. It just happened at that moment. Strangely, as if I was living in a planned scenario, I found there a big hammer. That's it, I thought. I will hit my head with the hammer and fall into the sea. Time was moving weird.

Once I gave full permission to it, to act it out, and I was totally calm, cold and decided, I stood there just looking. I was just breathing and looking. I stayed like this for long, nearby the sea. So long that a fisherman's boat deep in the sea ahead of me, finished with fishing and returned to the land.

It's been more than a year and ever since, while I was going down the suicidal trip intensely now and then, I just stopped going there, my thoughts just stopped.

I'm a little worried posting this as it might sound a bit risky, this type of allowance. But it's my true story. I'm not encouraging suicide in any way..on the contrary I am attempting to talk about my way out of it.
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Montanaman · M
Leaves of red and brown, lay on the bottom of the pool, sucked into the drain.
Shimmering and beckoning to me,
Calling my name.
The water, cool to the touch, gives gooseflesh.
I take a breath, and dive into the deep.
The cold is awakening. My hands outstretched, and find the limp leaves in a single pile stuck to the bottom of the pool floor. They feel like cold skin, summer's end.
A hello to autumn, and a preclude to winter's death.
I hold my breath.
And holding my breath for a minute or two, looking up to the surface, I suddenly want to breathe in the water, to pour the ten thousand gallons into my lungs. And in my dream, I do just that.
But instead of panic or fear, I can breathe as if I were a fish with gills instead of a human with lungs.
I marvel at my new-found ability.
Minutes pass and I'm still breathing liquid death. But I'm alive as I've never been before.
Into the deep, I live and breathe.
Then darkness.
And before I know it, your hands reach out and grab mine, pulling me to the surface, where the sun"s bright and blinding light awakens me from my depth trance, my death dance.

"Christ!" You scream at me. "You could have drowned!"
I show her the wet leaves in my hand, and say without any emotion, "You should have left me with the leaves in the deep."
elafina · 36-40, F
@Montanaman thank you for sharing this here ❤️ I can feel this..
Where did you get that from? I want to make a movie one day about something similar, who knows maybe I will do..:)