There is an Arabic saying that goes: “You want to die? Then throw yourself into the sea and you’ll see yourself fighting to survive. You do not want to kill yourself; rather, you want to kill something inside of you.”
For me, this “something” was ‘The Darkness’, otherwise known as depression. I have always felt that depression is a living and breathing thing inside of me. A parasite, slowly sucking the essence of my life to feed itself. So I decided to name it, this involuntary guest of mine.
The Darkness has been visiting me since my secondary school days. Sometimes, it would whisper to me, “Kill yourself… you are better off dead.” But I didn’t listen.
I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder in my first year of university. Finally, an explanation for the unwanted visits of The Darkness. Having Bipolar disorder means I sometimes have episodes of depression, episodes of mania, and episodes with symptoms of both mania and depression.
However, the depressive episodes are the most frequent for me. I was put on antidepressants, but I continued to have episodes of depression. My visits from The Darkness became longer, more intense and seemingly hopeless. The whispers of ending my life that I had been ignoring since secondary school became loud talking that clouded my mind and terrified me.
I fought to ignore the thoughts of drug overdoses, jumping off bridges and jumping in front of cars. And I succeeded… until I didn’t.
At a certain point not too long ago, the loud talking turned to screaming; constant screaming that drowned out all of my other thoughts. I could barely go five minutes without thinking of killing myself. I was depressed, yes, but more than that, I was tired. I was tired of having to fight The Darkness for my life every single second. So I decided I had to do something.
Overtime, I had also been placed on mood stabilizers and antipsychotics. I started researching on how much of different drugs it would take to kill me. The results of my search were inconclusive, so I tried to knock the idea out of my mind. Unfortunately, I couldn’t. Almost every minute, I had to fight the thoughts of ending my life. I became exhausted.
So, on an otherwise beautiful afternoon, I sat down in my room and counted several of my antipsychotics as well as some sleeping pills I had. I cried as I did this, because I didn’t really want to kill myself, I just wanted peace of mind. I knew that I might survive unscathed if I swallowed the pills, but I also knew that I might die. So I cried because I felt like I had been pushed to wall and left with no other option.
I swallowed the pills, then left a message for two people, one of whom was my psychotherapist. When she saw my message, she called me to ask me what was going on. When I told her, she had me give the phone to my brother, who then rushed me to the hospital.
Fast forward several months; I am still alive and kicking. I have decided that it will be my first and last suicide attempt. I know now that the lack of choice I felt then was as a result of the lies told to me by The Darkness. I felt like that was the only way. It was either I died or I became free of the suicidal thoughts.
But there are more options than that. I know that with the right help, I can survive even the worst bout of suicidal ideation. I just have to ask for it. As Dumbledore from Harry Potter once said, “ Help will always be given… to those who ask for it.
-Uju
This is beautiful, and I’m glad you’re still here.
Keep kicking!