Finding Happiness

Have you ever been suicidal?

My psychiatrist calls it “suicidal ideations”. What the hell is the difference? I recall being immobile in bed for six months straight. With one thought: it would be so much easier to not be alive; to not have to breathe one more breath. Because each breath kills you a little more inside. I recall being so depressed that I couldn’t roll over in bed to put one foot on the ground to stand up. I recall drowning in tears. I recall experiencing what others have referred to as “the pits of despair”.

The scariest thing? Feeling so numb that you do not care if you hurt others. You don’t care about the pain it would impale your loved ones with.

I recall the moment the pills were in my hand. I recall bringing them closer to my mouth.

I recall the very moment, with vivid memory, the instant my hand dropped all 150 pills; the felt sense of “what the fuck” wash through me. Pills crashing to the floor.

The suicidal ideations didn’t stop – I knew I couldn’t trust myself – I also knew that I would never kill myself.

Guess what … my life is infinitely better since finding the “right” medication. There is hope. You are not alone even if no one is there physically.

And I believe in you.