Depression doesnāt look like it does in movies and TV. People are learning that these days, but there are still things we donāt talk much about. With that in mind, I want to talk a little about my experiences with suicide.
I suffer from major depression, generalized anxiety, and autism. On the anxiety front, I have severe social anxiety. I can fake it, but social interactions are unreasonably draining for me. And yet, Iāve been a cashier for seven years now. Itās not something I would choose to do, but is one of the only jobs in my area Iām qualified for.
And oh god damn does that ever fuck with me. Being around people is hard for me. A lack of ability to show certain emotions well makes me feel awkward around people, which feeds into my anxieties, which feeds into my depression. Basically being around people is unnecessarily hard on my malfunctioning brain. And yet itās my job; nothing but people for eight hours at a time. And that literally makes me want to kill myself. I donāt mean that as an expression, it quite literally makes me consider ending my life because fuck if I have to deal with that for eternity itās not worth it.
And Iām not even saying that I feel like itās not worth it, Iām just saying itās not. Iām constantly hiding in the candy aisle crying from how overstimulating my job is, I come home and just feel exhausted, sometimes I sleep all day just because why should I be awake if Iām just miserable? And for what? 12k a year in a two-person household? Thatās well below federal poverty levels. We barely manage to scrape by due to the goodwill of others. Sure, I could pick up more hours, but my job already makes me want to die. I could try to go to school with financial aid, but Iām again already overwhelmed to the point of contemplating suicide. When I look ahead and just see more of this, it makes me want to give up.
But Iām not here to talk about my job, Iām here to talk about suicide. My job and the poverty that goes with it is just the specific situation that gives me these thoughts, but for someone else, it could be anything. And it could be someone else. Anyone else.
Because see the thing is like, I donāt hate myself. Fuck, I love myself so god damn much that my therapist had no idea what to do with me. Depression victims usually have self-esteem issues, I have a colossal ego matched with a shitty brain that canāt function right. I also know I have a lot of good things in my life. Iāve been with the same woman for twelve years and we still love each other dearly. I have friends who are always there for me, friends Iāve known for years and can talk about anything with. I have talent; Iām a pretty damn good writer, and that doesnāt go unrecognized.
I have a lot to live for, and I know that. And it shows if you were to meet me. Iām not someone who sits around not caring about their life, who doesnāt have anyone that cares about them, who is just sad all the time. Aside from the autism occasionally making me act in ways people donāt expect (like body language, etc.) if you met me, Iād seem perfectly normal. A bit shy, perhaps, but you would never see any red flags.
And yet, sometimes I get so overwhelmed, usually from work, that I want to die. We donāt talk about that. People in general just donāt talk about suicide like that. If suicide is talked about, itās usually either after the fact or in a crisis situation. Times when itās too late, or very close to being too late. Society has not made it easy to say āIām doing okay right now, but sometimes I think about killing myself.ā
Because if we do that, people will worry. People will think weāre at that crisis point. And of course, we donāt want to worry people (even if sometimes people should be worried).
Or maybe itās because if we talk about ourselves, weāre stealing attention away from people who really need it, as if compassion is finite. As if we donāt need it just because maybe someone else needs it more. As if itās not better to address a problem before it becomes a crisis.
Or maybe the attention is the issue. Weāve all heard about āattention seekersā who donāt really feel the way they say they do, they just want attention. We donāt want people to think weāre like them. Maybe we even fooled ourselves to believe we are like them, just doing it for attention. But we donāt really stop to think much of who āthemā is here. Because you know, if someone is that desperate for attention, maybe they kind of really fucking need it in the first place.
This isnāt about seeking attention, or even needing help from anyone other than the friends who already are there for me. This is just reaching out to anyone else who feels the same, because this is something people should feel like they can talk about.
Iām doing okay right now, but sometimes I think of killing myself.
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
izzy806
2087
germansingergirl
