An Occupied Mind

I have never attempted suicide. I have thought about it many, many times, though. I don’t really ever think about how I’d do it…it’s more that I think about how it’d be if I did do it…like, who would come to my funeral? Who would care? Would that many people care?

Now, why do I think about it?

Well, I’ve been diagnosed with bipolar II, as well as generalized anxiety disorder. I’m prone to periods of depression. Anxiety just sometimes holds Depression’s hand and says, “Let’s go! We can ruminate for hours and hours, and take you into a downward spiral that will seem impossible to come out of!” When I’m severely depressed, I feel as if I have no purpose on this planet. I feel like a failure as a wife. I feel like a failure as a mother. I feel like everyone would be better off without me. Plus, I want the physical, mental, and emotional anguish that has a chokehold on my entire body to go away. I want rid of the pain. I just don’t want to be here.

So why haven’t I ever attempted suicide, even though it’s crossed my mind so many times? Well, for one, I don’t think I must have ever gotten to that lowest of low points where I saw nowhere out, where I saw taking my life as the only option left. Those times when I’ve been thinking about it, I’ve called a friend who I know understands, and I get the help I need. I also think of my children and my family, and even though when I’m super depressed I feel everyone would be better off without me, I’ve been fortunate enough to have those lucid moments where I know how much I’d devastate and hurt people I love, and I can’t bear actually going through with it.

I guess my experience really isn’t that extreme. I’ve never been to the point that I’ve carried out any plan. I am thankful for that. Just know, anyone reading this, that I understand what it’s like to contemplate suicide. There is no shame in talking about it or getting help. If you are ever that point, I’m someone who can be there for you. I understand.