Written by Victoria Marie Alonso
Not always in a suicidal way like times in past, no it calls to me with its beauty and power and vastness…
As I attempt to transcend my experience, may yours become one of acceptance, too.
I have been suicidal much in my life; from my teenage years with a death wish to my time when I was first psychotic, and times in between, until recently. Thinking I would be better off dead was a much easier way to survive in my mad and unusual existence on the planet earth.
What is it that causes so much angst and wishes to be done with this life? Death seems the better option than to live in agony, caused by me, circumstances and even my loved ones. But then I think, and this is the only thing that has truly prevented me, how much more grief I would cause the people in my life if I were to kill myself. Yet, if others in my life knew the suffering I often feel and have felt since 8th grade (52 now), I think they would be glad for me to be at peace and no longer a part of this world.
I don’t feel this way right now gladly for being suicidal is a sad state to be in; dying seems better at the time than living. And the pain does not cease until some sort of intervention occurs to help me want to try to live again. Hospitalizations, medicine and intense therapy along with deep introspection are all my elixirs leading to not only survival but also a very rich happiness to be alive.
Many failures in this life lead me down the familiar road of wanting to die.
But people, good people have come to my aid, again and again and so I continue to breathe life into these words to anyone considering it. It is a permanent solution to a temporary problem I have been told; it is a coping skill, I learned of recent months. It is not the answer for me but it has been the answer for so many that I choose to dwell on this idea, this right, this choice to die at my own hands.
Can’t I get a new life? I often wonder, which is unrealistic, naturally, so I run anywhere else instead, hoping to get new perspective on my existence. I have stopped running now for I feel safe, safe in my marriage of 30 years and safe in my state of life– being on disability because of my schizoaffective disorder, and unable to work outside the home, despite having a Master’s degree earned post-diagnosis. But watching and helping others in my life succeed in the workplace is hard at times.
I choose instead to find purpose in my writing. Not to give hope to others for hope is overrated when one is suicidal, but to learn acceptance with the cards that have been dealt and make the best of it. For the gifts we possess might just be hidden from us, or unrealized, un–profited for some.
I went to the ocean today and this time was at peace and appreciated its beauty, power and vastness and I chose life over death, consciously.
Text © Victoria Marie Alonso
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