Suicidal Thoughts Again or Just Still?

I’ve been thinking a lot about suicide lately, and I don’t know why.  I mean, I think about it a lot, but it’s been even more.  Not that I’m going to actually do it.  I know I probably need to be inpatient in the hospital, but it’s never really helped me in the past, and I have Mom to take care of.  So I just sit and think about it.  Even fantasize about it.

I was reading a book earlier, and it had a story about a boy considering suicide.  It’s fiction, but what it said really resonated with me because it’s how I feel most of the time.  I’m going to write out the whole thing here because it’s such a good explanation for how I feel, but these are not my words.  They are from an author who I feel could read my mind.

People who don’t understand it want suicide to be an act of insanity.  They want it to be an impulsive overreaction to a single bad thing, or a series of bad things that make a person go mad.  The reality for me is exactly the opposite of that, or nearly so.  When the day comes that every hour hurts, when every new day is an exercise in endurance, there’s that moment when you realize that ending it all is the only rational choice.  Who wouldn’t choose peace over warfare?  And when the war is being fought between your ears, all sides of the conflict are the same person.  The winner is the loser.  And vice versa.

Not to get all melodramatic, but what difference would it make?  Really, what difference?  As the source of pain for so many people – myself among them – I’d be doing the world a favor by not being in it anymore.  Every one of us has an Eject button beating beneath our breastbone, and every one of has perfect control over how to activate it.

That’s the end of the passage that I read, and I’ve read it a few times now.  I’m going to have to talk some more to my therapist about this because some part of me knows this isn’t healthy.  I’ve pretty much given up on finding a psychiatrist who will actually help me or medication that will make me feel any better.  I’m just so damned tired.

I’ve tried a couple of times in the past with overdoses, but they didn’t work.  I failed even at that.  I’ve thought of other options in case the time ever does come.  Since I’m an occasional cutter, the chances are that it will be by cutting, specifically my arms.  I don’t talk to people about this because I know they don’t know what to say and don’t want to hear it.  So it’s just a voice that’s always in my head.  And every time it starts, I remember my promise to not do it again.

That’s why I say I should probably be in the hospital, but my past stays have really done nothing positive for me.  So what I have are suicidal ideations, no plan.  At least not now.  I have three people to live for, and that’s about it.