I'm Still Here

Today last year, I decided to let myself go. It's an anniversary I'm not at all proud of.

Looking back, maybe my sleep-deprived, hazy mind simply didn't allow me to think through all the potential consequences of changing emotions. I was tired of feeling like a zombie, always on the verge of tears. I was tired of staring in the dark in the wee hours of the morning, wondering if this episode ever would end. Something was pulling me to the bottom and was putting weight on my shoulder. I was practically dead already. I was scared. I could feel the effects of the pills. My whole body went numb. The last thing I remember is wiping away the tears, then everything went black.

I couldn't focus. The voices were so loud that they drowned out everything else. If I had tried harder and asked more people, maybe someone would have helped me. But I had given up. I gave in to the voices and the suicidal self-talk. I no longer wanted anyone to help. I just wanted to run away from that scariest part of me. I was tired. I wanted it all to end. 

Personal disclosure: When I tempted suicide, there absolutely were moments when all I could think about were the people I loved

Every time I remember those last moments, I start to cry. As I write this, my shoulders are heavily with sobs I can't stop. People who attempt suicide aren't always convinced it's the only option. It's more often that they have exhausted their emotional reserves to continue pursuing those options. It is, in many ways, the ultimate state of burnout. I have been blessed to regain all mobility and maintain my physical fitness. Others have stayed in silence, keeping their stories to themselves. Some have opened up, begun speaking about their experiences, sharing with the public what they can about the perils of suicidal ideation, great suffering and pain.

Sometimes, people say suicide is the most selfish act you can commit. But for many battling the darkness, dying seems like the most selfless thing to do. Depression often carries an intense, shameful sense of self-hatred. In those pits, I believed I was toxic and harmful to those close to me. I was certain taking my own life would be a blessing to others. 

We know we're not supposed to have these thoughts, so we don't tell

When you suffer from a mental illness, the constant battle can become too much. I don't think of myself as a strong person, and I could not take the bombardment of negative emotions. I messed myself up to the extent that I still carry the scars. My arm is a sign of the worst part of my life.

The disease lies. When healing doesn't come, it's easy to believe that God has left. And if we've been taught that depression and suicidal thoughts are sinful, selfish, or displeasing to God, we may believe He's right abandoning us.

Remember that although you are in pain, you are not the only one. Do not let your thoughts run your life (well, this is easy to say than done). I know it feels like they own you, but you have the power to take back your life and own your thoughts. 

Maybe there are not enough words or not the right words. Maybe nothing I can say will make you change your mind. Maybe I will fail at my task, but I hope not. I hope you take my words to heart and understand that I have felt your pain, and not just for a few days or weeks or on occasion. 

I wish I could tell you that was the turning point of my life. I want so badly say I didn't think of suicide again, that I had stopped self-harming, that I had emerged from my cocoon of sorrows and emerged beautiful and anew. I genuinely want to talk about how I'm sitting here now thankful that I survived, that I changed my mind and saved myself because I feel a satisfaction in living that I never dreamt I'd feel. But that would be a lie, and I'm not going to lie to you because, if you're anything like me, I want you to know that you aren't alone in this feeling. It has been a year since the morning I tried to end my life and I have considered trying again much more frequently than I've been happy I lived. I've even felt regret for the decision I made that morning, but not the decision I should regret. 

In the past couple of weeks, I've been having fairly frequent suicidal thoughts. I want to reach out to people but I keep feeling it's just not serious enough. I still had countless moments of self-blame, confusion and despair.

I'm putting all efforts I can to make my life better. Again, it's not easy, but small steps at a time, I'm getting better. I'm a work in progress, and going in the right direction, InsyaAllah.

I may not understand why I feel certain way, why I have this illness, but I'm willing to say without any guilt or resentment that I own it. I live with and I am responsible for, having it in my life

So often, all it takes to save a life is being a caring person to "us". Being present, being loving and being light. You don't need answers to be able to fix it. You just need to be present, perhaps help set the doctor's appointment or just listen. Just be aware of those hurting. Just be kind. Depression and suicidal people just need you to enter the dark and sit there with us, your love unchanged. You could be his arms to hold us, his hands to feed us, his voice to tell us we're not alone. Your love and kindness are more powerful than you know. Depression and suicide are serious issues, and my heart breaks with those of you facing them.