Sunday, June 26, 2016

Just Late Night Thoughts Note #1

Why do people kill themselves?

I don’t know how to type all of this without me wanting to roll my eyes. I mean, I would, if I read about these kind of stuff written by other people. Yeah, yeah, sorry if I may want you to roll your eyes. You can do that right now. Then, when you’ve had enough of eye-rolling, please go on reading without doing so.

So instead of me telling why people kill themselves, I would tell you something else. I will tell you why people want to kill themselves. Or rather, why I want to kill myself. 

The answer is not simple. Writing it is better. Speaking it is hard. You need a day to organize your thoughts. The topic is quite sensitive. You need to choose your words carefully or people will misinterpret it. The lay-out of the article is important, too. If I place it in bullet form or list it with numbers, it would be easier to the eyes. If I place it in paragraphs, it would seem more casual and flowing, like it seems like I am directly speaking to you.

Why should I not get to the point already? The first line gets me hooked. I don’t know with you. If it was another person who wrote this, I would get impatient and skip ahead because it does not get to the point to the topic that I want to read. By typing all these stuff, I get more time to think of the reason. And I would get you built up to the climax. I would also like to make this article longer, so you would eventually might want not to read it, because I don’t want you to know all these stuff. 

Not everyone seeks help. Not everyone tells somebody that they are suffocating. They don’t want to bother them with their own problems. They are afraid that they would just get some eye-rolls. People might not show suicidal people rolling their eyes in front of them, but inside their minds, they already are. That’s what I think. On some cases though. I only mentally roll my eyes when the kid’s problem is only a messed-up eyeliner. But we are afraid of that. We are afraid when people just turn their backs at us and walk away. We are afraid of everything. So if a person gathered so much guts just to seek help from you, it really is a big deal.

Someone sought help from me. But it was not a “comfort me” type of help that that person wanted. It was a “help me think of a way to kill myself” kind of help. I didn’t know how to react to that, since I have already failed around 3 suicide attempts. 

And then I thought, should I stop this guy from wanting to kill himself? Or should I give him the support he wants? If he wanted support, I didn’t know what kind it was. It was really vague. I didn’t know if he literally was asking a real method to die or that he just wanted to talk to me… wanted to talk about all the shit he has been through. It was 70% that it was the latter he wanted. I went with the former one.

But I did not suggest methods of suicide. I only shared to him my suicide attempts, and that I failed. He then proceeded that I did not deserve death, that I was better than him. I kind of wanted to roll my eyes. He wasn’t the one to say that. We all suffer in different ways. I just wanted to talk him out of it. But I didn’t. I did not stop him. I told him that it would be hypocritical of me to tell him to stop his intentions. Still, he wouldn’t listen. And I knew that. So I recommended him to talk to my friend, who I thought knew what she wanted to say. 

I still haven’t started writing about what brought you here, or what started me to write. “Why do people kill themselves?” I did mention that I would write about why I want to kill myself, right? The question really is hard to answer. I need a thousand words to explain this. I already typed 723 words and I’m still far from answering the question. It is like the question from the hardest exam that most of the people can’t answer… that most of the people get wrong. 

Misery… suffering… shortcut… euphoria… ending… anger… sadness… happiness… endless… difficulty… pain… 

Eleven words. Maybe I don’t need a thousand words after all? Is it really as simple as that? From these eleven words, eleven thousand more words branch out from them. Are they really self-explanatory? Should I not dig deeper for the reasons? 

I’d like to feel a little emotion from writing this. But somehow, I feel indifferent. I want to be soaked by my own tears but I can’t manage to do it. Maybe I’ve tolerated enough pain to acquire this numbness inside me.

Is this the reason I want to kill myself? To feel pain again? I’ve been bruised and scarred so many times. It’s so cliché that wounds heal and scars don’t. Why not leave yourself wounded? So you could remember the pain that is inflicted on you? 

I really sound stupid, I know. Moving on is one of the reason why wounds should heal… why you shouldn’t remember the pain but the happiness. I sometimes have this dumb thought that some of the emotions might feel left out that you should feel all of them equally. Sometimes your sad emotion wants to be felt to. Sometimes your anger wants to be unleashed. Maybe most of your emotions are jealous of your happy emotion, because that’s the emotion that you want most. 

I like villains in shows. I like scrutinizing their personalities. I want to know the reason why they cause havoc. Maybe they have experienced so much pain in the past. They have the tendency to be misunderstood.

Misunderstanding… inequity… intolerance… humanity… mortality… dishonesty… hate… non-resistant… weak… envy… jealousy… 

Eleven more words. 

I just remembered the book entitled Looking for Alaska and how the protagonist liked last words. They were wondering whether Alaska had an accident or she committed suicide. Then there’s the book entitled Falling Into Place, where Liz planned her suicide by crashing her car to make it look like an accident. Liz lives in the end, by the way. 

These two girls have two different reasons to die. But they are fictional characters. None of the events that happened to them are real. Why can’t pain and suffering be fictional too? Why does negativity exist? Why does the world need to be balanced by equating the good with the bad? 

Okay. Maybe it’s time for me to answer as to why I wanted to kill myself. The word I am thinking now is: 


Sometimes when I lie in bed and stare at my thoughts, I look back on the past so much that I feel like there is nothing. Now this is the part where it gets complicated… where people misunderstand. We all know we should read between the lines, right? You may have already thought that what I meant by “nothing” is not just plain “nothing”. 

It’s not that I feel like a Nobody. I know that I am somebody. I have people who love me. I just feel like there’s nothing. It’s like when you’re pinching yourself, and it hurts. But it’s just that. It hurts. It’s when you touch your arm, and you feel that it’s there. And that’s it. After you leave your hand on your arm, you get used to it after some time and then you don’t realize that your hand is on your arm all along. So you felt nothing. It’s like all of our existence is equal. It’s when you stare at a space, and you listen to your thoughts, then your mind leads you back to your sight, and you wonder, what were you staring at? What do you look at when you think? You try to focus on what you were looking at but you know you weren’t staring at that particular thing. Maybe you were staring at the air. 

It is when you close your eyes, stare at your closed eyelids, and stare at the sharpened black stuff present in your blocked vision. Then you try to sleep, but you can’t, because your thoughts are interfering. Then your thoughts lead you to the nothingness. You then start asking a bunch of stuff to yourself.

“Why should I continue living? Why am I still doing these stuff? Why do I live? Everything is just a cycle. Everything is the same. I have experienced what is needed to be experienced. What’s the point of doing all these stuff if I’m going to die in the end?” 

These are the thoughts of some people contemplating suicide. They tend to ask only a few questions when they consult people, because they know that people have answers to every stupid question they ask.

“Because there are people who love you. Because this is what you want. If you think that way then you are bound to be miserable. Look at the brighter side. Don’t let the negativity consume you. Stop thinking like that.” 

Every answer is a cliché. I thirst for a different answer. Something that I have never heard before. Sure, encouraging words help for most, or even all of the people. But I heard enough of them. Don’t worry, I’m not that in too deep yet again to attempt another stupid suicide. I’m not ready to go back to medication and get fat again. 

So actually, I really don’t have a reason to kill myself. Just these whispers my mind sends me when I’m being stupid. Life is too much drama. I’m sick of it. Real life drama sucks. They are meant for TV screens, movie screens, stories, and the stage only. Don’t make it into a reality.

I still have a feeling that I haven’t answered my question yet. I don’t know why. I don’t know the answers to most of the questions I asked here. I don’t know the answers to most of the questions I have asked in my entire life. There are a lot of things that I don’t know. I am just young. 

And I am too young to feel this old. A lot can happen in a month, a year, or heck, 18 years. All the agony… all the pain… all the suffering… all the bullshit…

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