Is there any time I've ever contemplated committing suicide?
Regrettably, yes. I sit in that corner every minute, suicidal feelings strike me, begging for transformation and change. Apparently, I'm alive every day, and I ask myself, what if I jumped on the street one day? All I need to do is wait for something larger, like a truck or a bus, and I'm dead. In reality, I won't miss the huge object, and I'll have less time to feel the agony, but all my misery and trials will come to an end. No more pain! Is there someone who misses me, though? No no. I have no kids, friends, or relatives to cry for me when I am gone.
Why does this minds of committing suicide keep on following me?
It was only last year I joined the street family. I am only 24 years old, living on the street. However, I have not experienced any mistreat, that is no one who has abused me physically. Nevertheless, people abuse me verbally. I mean, think of when you are hated, spit on, only because of your physical outlook! That moment individuals’ critic you because of the environment that you reside. For your whole life, people have laughed at you. Every word said by them hits me. In fact, they say it directly to my face, and I swallow every word no matter how tough they are. Imagine someone saying, “The fat, plumb waste of skin, vagrant, you make me ill!!” well, may be in a real sense I am only a waste of the skin; hence, they might be right. Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter whether you are ugly, smart, dumb, blind, or even cute. Death will equal us all. Nonetheless, words don’t offend me that much. What pains me is every time I get ignored. I only beg for some few coins for food to eat, but they assume they are not even seeing me. I mean, they make me feel inferior, like I don’t even exist, which makes me think of committing suicide.
In any day of my life, have I ever tried to kill myself?
Apparently yeah. I can recall that first time I wanted to take my life away. It is one year ago when I took a sleeping pill bottle. Luckily or unluckily, my mind went blank, and I had nothing to do. Waking up the following morning, I didn’t succeed in killing myself; I felt substantially relieved. After sometimes with such a bad experience, I was joyful for the gift of life. In fact, I had that desire to live and live forever. Nevertheless, my depression started coming back slowly.
I hardly disagree with all those who say the easiest way to get out of the suffering is by taking your own life.
Let me make it clear; it is the most challenging encounter or task. The urge of being in existence and alive outdo the thoughts of killing yourself. The desire to breathe, and breathe sharply is never easy to overcome. The minds can convince you to commit suicide, but the heart says no! I can’t stop beating. There are no medicines for this abnormal reasoning. In fact, I can use a lot of my efforts and energy convincing the public that I am okay and sober. Apparently, I have never been good and straight, where, I don’t think I will ever be okay. Not even a single day. Instead, I will only be one day away from terminating this human presence.
Currently, when I sit in the same corner, then think of taking my own life…
this comes into my brain, “For a temporary problem, suicide can be the permanent option.” However, for all the instances that I have thought of committing suicide, it is only one time I tried the weird act, and I didn’t succeed. It means, if I have tried it only once to take my life away, there must be something. That thing is the driving force, which keeps me on the move. Again, it is the only thing that makes me feel like taking my life, at the same time keep me alive and breathing. Up to date, I haven’t discovered what that ‘thing’ is. However, knowing it will never be a good idea to me. Imagine when that thing that keeps me alive and going fades away? Will there anything left to keep me alive? I don’t think there will!!
