To be baptised in no-life for a while...

I think that most people think about ending their lives at some point in their lives. When everything seems so looming and ghastly, there is a spark of hope in the cage of despair. Death can seem like a savoir to the hopeless. An end to everything that makes your own seperate life miserable and unbearable. Sometimes, the thought passes through unnoted, like a piece of sweetcorn and sometimes the thought of self-anahilation is unrrepentant and pops up like an unpleasant person who seems to hang around with your group of friends even though nobody actually likes them.

Suicide can be a statement. A statement in your own political voice. An action to finally show those who did not understand you or how you felt the truth in a sudden way.

Razors pain you, rivers are damp.
Acid stains you, drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful, nooses give,
Gas smells awful you might as well live.

Today, I pondered on whether to erase myself from the world. I almost started to write a note but then I decided if I was going to do it, my house needed to be tidy. So, I spent the next two hours cleaning. I don't know why I started to tidy up, I just couldn't bear the thought of anyone coming into my house whilst it was dirty and I was dying or dead. I fed my cat and cleaned out her litter tray. Then, I decided that I would take a walk to clear my head and get some extra tablets. I took a route through the graveyard and visited my Grandfather. I started crying stupidly and used a daisy to mark a faint cross on the headstone. I started walking in any direction I could find thr strength to walk in. I kept thinking on how much I wanted yew branches on my coffin when I did finally do it.

Eventually, my mind cracked. One sentence spoke through my head with a clarity I almost couldn't recognise:

I want my mummy!

I had never called my Mother 'Mummy'. I felt about three years old. I wanted to be hugged, given some warm milk and to be put to bed to sleep off everything and wake up when I was five years old again and the smartest girl in my class instead of the tearful weirdo that people now rumoured that she wanted to shoot the school up I had grown up to be.

I searched all about town and ended up at my Grandmother's house. They didn't know what to do with me. I was in an awful state. I ended up having to go to see my counselor and my mother has made me stay at her house tonight so I don't do anything stupid.

There is a quote about suicide:

A permanant solution to a temporary problem.

But to me, this is just a temporary solution to a permanant problem. The fears and feelings will grow back like always. This is not the first nor last scare of mine where I have been very tempted to end it all. The problem is that no matter how I try to change my thinking, suicide is always an option, it has been ever since I was very young, too young to even understand what death was.

I do not condone suicide, but I ask of anyone considering it to always go and have a walk, read a funny book or clean the mould out of the fridge: anything that will occupy you. You're just stuck in a moment, that moment will pass. I'm still here, distraction is vital for survival.