“I am suicidal.”
Three words only — but, the three most difficult words I’ve ever had to say. I did not want to say them. I fought so hard to leave them in the chill darkness of my depressed mind and now their expression feels like a declaration of defeat.
I fear that giving voice to my suicidal thoughts will make them more dangerous. And, when I admit being suicidal, the demonic voices whispering on the edges of my consciousness will escape through my words to materialize as physical shadows hounding me wherever I go.
Because of these fears, I tried desperately to ignore what the words meant. Having already attempted suicide twice in my life, I know what can happen if I deny the words for too long. I know where that seductive path leads.
And so, after several weeks in one of the worst depressive episodes I’ve experienced in years, I sit in the white light of my psychiatrist’s office, head in hands, spitting the words — and their awful taste — out. [Read more…]