I’ll admit it to myself, I’ll admit it to you

It isn’t an easy thing to talk about. In fact, people dismiss it when it comes up. Not always but enough times for me to not want to talk about it anymore. Until now. I felt the need to share this. I’ve mentioned it before but never this bluntly.

These last couple of weeks have been especially hard on me. Whether it’s stress from school, my insecurities, or my mind getting the best of me, I don’t really know. All I know is that finding reasons to stay has been especially hard.

There are moments where I’ll be laughing or smiling and out of nowhere sadness will hit me. At first it’s subtle, almost non existent. And then, after a few moments, I start to really feel it. A heaviness pushes on my heart and it’s hard to fight. Most days I ignore it and push it aside while other days aren’t so easy.

Those are the days I start to question my place in this world. I question why I’m here and what I really have to fight for.  I question everything. These are the same days where giving up feels simple, almost logical. But it’s not. I know it’s not. It’s hard to convince myself of that though, especially when I’m overwhelmed with sadness. It would be so easy to give up.

I’ve never admitted this to myself. It isn’t an easy thing to do. Why? Because I was at the doctor’s office one day and he asked, “Do you think you have a mental health problem?” The way he said it was almost condescending. He followed that question with saying that he didn’t think I did.

So, I’ve never admitted it. I’ve never admitted that seven letter word. I’ve never admitted that I’ve contemplated it more times than I can count or that it breaks my soul when I do because I can’t control the thoughts that pierce through my heart and soar into my mind.

But I’m going to admit it now. I’m going to use that word. I’m going to say it. I’m going to admit it to myself. I’m going to admit it to you.

Suicide.

I’ve contemplated suicide more times than I can count.

It’s not that I want to do it. It’s just that when the sadness takes over, I lose all sense of myself and instead focus on ways to get rid of the sadness. Leaving always seemed like the easiest option, even now. But I know I’m wrong. So wrong.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to take my own life. I just want the sadness to go away and I want to love myself for longer than one day at a time.

I have too many reasons to stay, too many reasons to not give up.

I’m still here because even when it feels impossible, I remember my reasons and I hold onto them for dear life. I hold onto them as tightly as I can and remind myself of why I’m fighting. Especially now. Because a few years ago, I didn’t have the same reasons I do now. They weren’t as prominent or strong.

Now I have friends. Unbelievably supportive friends who break through the darkness with their light. I have family who love me even with my flaws and insecurities. And I have myself, with the strength to push through the doubts and stay.

There was a time when my list of reasons wouldn’t have been gone higher than one.

Suicide is treated as a dirty word. And like most words associated with mental health, it has a negative connotation attached to it.

It’s okay to admit your struggles. It’s okay to voice them aloud or even just write them down. It’s important to acknowledge them and know that they’re real.

It’s true what they say. Acceptance is the first and greatest step to healing.

It’s an every day battle and some days are easier than others but I’m still fighting. Because of that, I’m healing too.

Remember your reasons, admit your struggles, and use that to make it through.

Live, stay, and fight. It might feel impossible but it isn’t. You’re doing it right now. And so am I. Let’s do it together.

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