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I'm Glad I'm Still Alive, Though I Nearly Gave Up On Life

I'm Glad I'm Still Alive, Though I Nearly Gave Up On Life

It took being on the brink of death to make myself choose life.

Source: Getty Images/ Creative/ Fausto Serafini / EyeEm

Someone once said, "grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone." While there is a group of people that believe life won't give you more than what you can handle, there's another group of people that agree that life is a pain in the rear end and it is as unfair as it can get. I belong to the latter. I don't know when it started, but I felt like life was always been unfair to me while being partial to others. I felt like no one likes me and wants me. With time, the feeling of being unwanted just intensified and got too loud in my own head. 

 



 

I shouldn't blame people for making me feel the way I do, but I can't help it. Over the years, there wasn't a single person I thought I could count on. Is it because of me? That, I don't really know. Sure, I had acquaintances, but not the kind you saw on tv or the ones right in front of me. I knew people who had friends that would give their anything for the other and I felt nothing but sadness and jealousy. I wanted something like that my whole life but I didn't have it. 

 

 



 

 

I've always had a strained relationship with my parents, too. I believed that this relationship would fix itself one day and I guess, to a certain extent, it has? I'm not sure. So you know, when you're in such a place, you tend to believe the first person that comes to you and tells you that you mean a lot to them. This is something you've been wanting to hear, so of course, you believe them and then you let them in.



 

I did that, too. I did not know how to handle people and I started to get close to this one person, and soon enough, we fell in love. I was head over heels and so happy, the most I'd ever been in my 25 years. I figured my life was finally coming together and that it was going to be good. It was good, too good, only to be true, and while I had my rise, I also had a pretty bad fall. The guy was nothing like the person I initially met. He started to turn into a monster, and whatever few people I had with me also left. I was alone. 



 

I had no one. No one to call, no one to meet with, I did not even have anyone to comfort me. I was all alone in a hole and I had no idea what to do. A few days passed and I felt so unwanted that it broke my own heart. I couldn't control my tears and there was this huge, gaping hole in my chest. It seemed like there was not a single soul to comfort me. No one knew about the dark place I was in, but it seemed like no one really cared about me. I felt like I did not make a difference to anyone's life and that's what hurt me the most.



 

This was the breaking point, I did not want to live anymore. I mean, no one cared, right? And I just could not take the pain anymore. It hurt me to wake up every day and have nothing to look forward to. I knew I needed help, but at that point, all I wanted to do was to just die and put an end to the miserable life I was living. You see, that monster always came back, only to leave with another chunk of my soul. I just couldn't do it anymore. That knife sitting on the kitchen counter called out to me. 



 

One swift motion and it should be done. I thought it would be painless, and so I grabbed the knife, and I held it right above my left hand. I closed my eyes and was about to pull. But then, I wondered what would happen if I did not die. What if all that happened was me unable to fend for myself and having to depend on someone for the rest of my life? I already felt I was a burden to people around me, I did not actually want that. 

 



 

I didn't not kill myself because I was brave enough to face the world. I did that because I did not want anyone to take care of me if things went wrong. My parents found out and I got the help I needed, but my depression hasn't vanished into the ether. My therapist did tell me that I was brave for not harming myself, but why didn't I feel that way? I'm alive, but barely, but I still hold on to the fact that I did not give up, even though that's all I really wanted. I realized that killing myself was a solution, but keeping myself alive was a better alternative, a shot at coping with suffering, a shot at happiness. I know I have a long road ahead of me, but I'm glad I made the choice to stay alive for it. 



 

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