Life Before and After A Suicide Attempt

Although I think suicide is the most important struggle since it's permanent and it's also what I used poetry to help me process the most, I decided not to lead with it but instead some of the major contributing factors for me. I don't think someone commits or attempts to commit suicide for just one reason. I didn't try to kill myself just because I was stuck in a massive depressive episode for years. I didn't try to kill myself just because I was gay and that wasn't acceptable in the Christian environment I was trapped in. I didn't just try to kill myself because I didn't feel like I could ever be the man I was "supposed to be." Yes, all those things pushed me closer to the edge, pushed the knife a little deeper. But after all that I tried to kill myself because of society and not just the one I locally lived in. I was 11 and I didn't want to grow up to be a teenager because teenagers are idiots. I should know now that I've crossed that bridge recently. But I saw them on TV, in books, in my life, (I'd say in movies but I wasn't allowed to go to those), and I so desperately did not want to be one of those. Aside from the aforementioned, I had lived as great a life an eleven-year-old could live. I was fully content with dying and escaping the future torment. But I'm here now so that obviously didn't work out. Before I knew it I was a godforsaken teenager. Puberty, honestly, wasn't that big of a deal for me. It hit me rather early for a guy and I was like ok. The hard part was that I was like ok I like guys, how do I stop? I had a couple best friends who I called my Lights. As long as I was around one of them I was ok. But at night the depression hit hard and fast. And unless you're familiar with that level of depression, it's too hard to explain in any way that isn't a face to face conversation. But one by one my Lights went out for different reasons. But by then I was already almost done with being a teenager. And I had become the monster I was trying so drastically to avoid. I had lost most of my innocence, not that any of us are innocent to begin with. I decided my freshman year of high school that I had to get as far from this homophobic environment as possible and as fast as possible. And I was too afraid to ask my parents to let me go to a public school, and I couldn't even play the financial card since my mom worked at the school so it was practically free. I honestly just wanted a place to get away from the same people I knew since I was 5 and saw six days a week none of whom I could trust. And yes, I was hoping to meet a cute guy or any non-hetero so I knew I wasn't alone. Because I don't know what's lonelier than being the only inmate living in a prison with no bars surrounded by wardens who preach love but would hate me if they knew who I had a crush on. So if I was going to be stuck in this system till I graduated, I might as well move up my release date. And who needs a sophomore year of high school anyways. I'd make a joke about a "wise fool" but that's etymologically incorrect.

Remember when I went to a mental hospital?
It was my senior year of high school. So yeah, it was nice to be an actual inmate. I finally escaped my damning prison for one with white walls and surprisingly good food if you behaved. And you know, a really cute guy who was totally into me. I felt alive for the first time. But it was all down hill after I was released back into my original prison. I just had to get through that one last miserable year at that hell-school before I was college bound to NYC as far away as California as possible without a passport. So yeah, I was still 17 when I got here. I didn't turn 18 till my second semester. And that first semester was really, really rough and lonely. But a different lonely. Instead of being surrounded by people I knew but I knew didn't really want to know the real me, I was just surrounded by people I simply didn't know and who didn't know me. So I was thinking. Maybe I would have been better off not living those horrid teenage years. Maybe I don't want to be an adult either. It can't get any better. It can only get worse. That's what I've experienced anyways. And these weren't knew thoughts. I read an article of a guy who jumped off the Grand Canyon because he didn't want his parents to find his body. So I had that in mind when I moved to NYC. Lot's of tall buildings, bridges, and subways cars. And I had those thoughts every day for over a semester, but just could never bring myself to do it. On my 18th birthday I had a mental breakdown and cried so hard till I went numb because I broke the promise I made to myself that I would kill myself before I became an adult before I became another monster like the rest of humanity. There are no good people. Not a single one. Ultimately I wanted to kill myself because I would have rather died young and innocent as can be than to join the fucked up human race. Like seriously we are horrible creatures. I honestly don't know why God spared Noah. And I'm the kind of guy who has always wanted to believe in the good in people. I believed in redemption, that people could change, that people could be better. But I've grown up and now I see that the darkness in every heart is more evident than the light.

So even as I write this, I'm not sure if I should be giving advice on how to survive the temptation of suicide. I'm qualified in that I have survived this long, but sometimes I still have that mindset that maybe things would have been better if I had killed myself. I wouldn't have gone through all that pain. And usually that's offset by well I also wouldn't have experienced all the good stuff. But really I couldn't care less. Darkness swallows Light in the world that I'm familiar with. So my advice to my younger self would be don't kill yourself because you're different and ostracized by society, kill yourself because this isn't a world worth living in. But that's me being another selfish monster that's the problem with this society. I was so defeated by all the evil I saw in people who were suppose to be like angels that I gave up on the world. But for some reason God hasn't given up on us yet, and I guess he has enough Light to extinguish the darkness. But I'm not going to get all evangelical and Christiany and try to convert everyone. That's not me. That's not my spiritual gift. I'm not a good example of what you should be. I'm an example of how badly you can fuck up or get fucked and still survive. I think Christians are so hellbent on the act of conversion that they don't realize they have to get their shit together and clean the fucking house before anyone is going to want to live here. So this is me trying to clean up this messy world because we're all to blame for the filth we've been living in.
I'm glad I didn't kill myself not because I've been enjoying life but because I've been helping others enjoy theirs. So I'm doing my best to be the person I needed when I was struggling. I've never really had a role model because no one was ever what I needed. So that's who I strive to be. The person who  I didn't have so that someone might have that someone. Because you can't un-attempt suicide. You can't un-feel the guilt that screws with you for the rest of your life. There's just dealing with it and trying to move on.

So yeah, it get's better. But I'm not going to lie to you. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it gets worse. No one really knows. No one can promise you what tomorrow will be. But it's not about "it" getting better. It's about you getting better. And only you get to determine if and when that happens. There will always be depressing things in your life. There will always be bullies. There will always be rejection. There will always be people who don't understand you, who hate you for it. But you will never be alone. You will never be the only one feeling those feelings. You will never be the only one different. And you never have to let those things control you. It took about a decade for me before my life got better. But I was getting better every day. Every time I put down the knife. Every time I talked to someone instead of choosing to be alone and bottling it all up. Every time I told myself I mattered. That even if no one loved me, I would still be worth it.

So yes, I could have escaped a lot of pain. Was all the joys of life worth the pain? I don't know. You tell me. I think it's worth living long enough to find out.