As I sit on my couch, resting my feet after one of the most humiliating days, in which I can honestly admit to being a failure, I realized or empathized with people who commit suicide. I realized that it isn’t a selfish act in which the person fails to think of anyone but themselves, instead the selfish ones are the people who point the blame at them in the first place, I think.
I started thinking of this because I contemplate daily, even hourly, on my life. The last couple of years have been close to unbearable for me. Most of which I can only remember being depressed, infuriated and frustrated with people, society and this country. Whoever said you can’t remember pain was mistaken.
I feel I have sunken to the lowest place that I ever could. I feel that my life is just getting worse, not better. It is in this feeling that I finally understand what goes through the minds of some suicide victims. They just want a way out of the pain.
Let’s say mental anxiety feels like physical abuse. Only, the abuser never gets tired, and, in many cases, the bruises are never seen. A suicide victim secretly undergoes abuse 24 hours a day/7 days a week. There is no break. There is only pain. And the pain destroys everything. One just wants to stop wanting to feel, especially if the mental pain is caused by more than one physical cause. Most, I think, just want the pain to stop. That is when death no longer becomes a worry. It becomes a way out. As I think about it, does floating into nothing seem as scary, when you don’t want to feel anything? From my outlook, it is beginning not to, but only because I have had to undergo more troubles than what I wrote here. Don’t be alarmed. I am not planning on taking any drastic measure, such as suicide, but I couldn’t help but think about why some choose to take that route. Anyway, this is my thought on the matter, while I sit at home, resting my feet, from a long day at work.