Of The Heaven's Ward

i've never been someone who's good at processing heavy emotions. heck. i'm not even good at talking about myself.

most people know me as someone who's constantly smiling and laughing. or someone who somehow knows everybody.

i always joke that i don't actually know how to act around people; that i'm just an amalgamation of things i found funny that i took from people i thought were cool or fun to be around.

to an extent, this is true.

i've always been passively depressed the whole of my highschool life. this confused me, because i didn't really have anything to be sad about. but i was sad anyway. which turned into a feedback loop of "stop being sad!" which would upset me even more.

in 2014-2019 this got a lot worse, and turned into being passively and actively suicidal.

i'd overdose on medication to knock myself out for long stretches of time just because sleeping enabled me to not think about anything. i can tell you all the household product combinations you can take that will cause an expensive trip to the hospital. in some way, having to pay for my own university loan was a bit of a blessing, as being so busy with work and school meant that i had less time for myself.

regardless, it got so bad to a point that i decided that i was going to take my own life on february 22, 2019. all the big celebrations were mostly out of the way, and it was also after my sibling's birthday as well.

i had a class that was cancelled that day that i hadn't mentioned to my family, so they would think that i was still at school. which meant that the earliest they would find me would be in the evening- if not a couple days later. i wrote a note and put it in my pocket-(it was only about four sentences. an "i'm sorry." and who my personal stuff should go to. i still remember the exact contents of what i wrote, but it's not important.) i took the train into the city, got out from the station, walked to a building nearby, and took a lift to the 11th floor carpark which had an open half-wall.

once there, i would jump.

but when it got to that point- when i was standing, one foot up the half-wall, i couldn't do it.

i mean sure. if it was just myself, i would've already jumped. my family and my friends might understand, to a degree. but my rabbit? who would tell odin? he wouldn't understand why i didn't come home.

so i decided. i was going to wait one more year. just so he would have one more year of me being around. it wasn't easy, since the next year was when covid happened- and the lockdown meant that i couldn't talk to anyone physically. i couldn't keep myself as busy as usual to distract myself, either. but one year passed anyway, and then i told myself "hey, since you made it through one year- maybe try living one more." that next year, i told myself that i would try living until my 30th birthday.

it's been roughly six years now since i stood on that half-wall, and i turn 30 today.

they've since put up netting on that wall now.

because someone else had the exact same idea that i did.

the only difference is that they actually followed through.

i'm not going to say that things will get better, because i think it's a very superficial thing to say. things might get better. or they might get worse. who knows. but the important thing is to keep living.

if you can't live for yourself yet, live for your pets.

if you can't live for yourself yet, live for your friends.

if you can't live for yourself yet, live for that one show you watch that you want to know the ending to.

but keep living, even if it's only for an outside reason.

yeah

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