A letter to the suicidal

Hi, I love you so so much. I know you are going through hell right now. I know people have their assumptions they think you want the easy way out, they think you’re selfish, they think all these things about you. Maybe you do want the easy way out but that’s because you are in a ridiculous amount of pain. I pray they would never know the pain you know, but I know that maybe in some way one day they will. 

People talk. People assume. People leave. People cause pain. I don’t know why you feel this way. You probably don’t know why either. Other than the fact that this life sucks, and no amount of platitudes will help that. Telling you life will get better often feels like a cruel promise that people say to make you feel better but can never fulfil. They say to look at the good in life, but that is hard when you walk down the street and instead of seeing the beauty of the sunset you are fighting against everything to stop yourself from throwing yourself under the passing cars. You go for a walk in the open country and instead of seeing the beauty of the view you see a large steep cliff you can throw yourself off of. Instead of being grateful for medication that doesn’t even work, you want to take them all, because taking them in the prescribed doses doesn’t help you feel any better so maybe taking them all will. 

Everything you do feels like a very hard level in a video game that is almost impossible to make it out alive. But the difference between the game and your life is every game over is a suicide attempt and eventually your lives will run out. If that sentence fills you with excitement, keep reading, this is for you. 

Every pain, every suicidal thought, every attempt, every scar, every single thing you have been through, has a purpose. If I hadn’t experienced everything I have just told you about I wouldn’t have wrote about it. I wouldn’t know how deep the pain goes, I wouldn’t know the things people say that helps and the things that makes it worse. 

If I hadn’t sat in my own hospital bed, I wouldn’t be able to know what it feels like for you when you are in the same boat. I wouldn’t understand in the ways I do. 

Suicide is often something that people don’t understand, and they try to run as far away from it as possible, but when you’ve been there it makes you come in close. Like a child who has already had the chicken pox, that comes in close when their friend has it too. 

And although it’s a silent killer, although it takes more lives than other ways people die, it’s potentially the least understandable way people die. And I am going to say hold on. This world needs you. Just like it needs me. It needs us to go to the sick beds of others who feel the same ways, and tell them to hold on. 

This life sucks. Literally just living this life is the hardest mission I have ever been asked to go on. And for you, it’s the same. And that means that we can conquer it. We can stand at the end and say we did it. I personally didn’t do it for friends, I didn’t do it for family or even for myself, I continue to fight for the simple reason that God is using me to reach people others wouldn’t dare go near. Not to convert. But to give hope. To give a sense that God is in control, and no matter how out of control we feel, we need to keep going. 

Author: beforeiunderstood

I am 22, born and bread in the UK, I am a Christian trying to live my life for the glory of God. Battling through mental illness and life in general. With the goal of trying to make other's feel less alone.

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