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Silent Killer

Depression

By Starry EyedPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
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Searching the internet to find out what is the easiest, most efficient way, to commit suicide, isn’t what I thought I’d be doing at the age of 19. When you're 6 years old, and your teacher asks what you want to be when you grow up, my mind didn’t race to having clinical depression and Googling how many of my antidepressants would it take to end my life. And yet there I was. At my lowest. Sobbing uncontrollably for the millionth time in my kitchen floor, hoping that I could cry out all the pain. For it all to stop.

Depression is a silent killer.

It sneaks up on you and morphs from a mood to an acute physical, mind numbing, soul crushing, movement preventing ache that does not go away. It became painful to breathe and you just want THAT feeling to stop. Just so you can feel awake again, sleep again, eat again, smile again.

But I was one of the lucky ones. I came through the other side.

Tragically, today a close family member killed himself. No note was left. No letter. And people that were closest to him are asking why? Because obviously they can’t comprehend why a young man, with his whole life ahead of him would possibly want to end it all. Isn’t it selfish? Think of his family? His mother!

He was. He did. You do.

And this is what you think...

You think of all those you have around you and how you feel as if you’re burdening them. How your life isn’t a bad one so you shouldn’t be feeling like this! Your moods are dragging them down. They don’t want or won’t understand so what is the point in talking. Besides you're tired of talking. Talking resolves nothing and nobody really cares anyway. So you stop attending family gatherings. You get the jokes and remarks at your expense about how moody and quiet you are, just cheer up!

It’s better you don’t go and people stop asking and expecting you to come. Staying in is just something you do now.

And whilst you are sitting inside, life carries on much the same on the outside of your four walls much like it would if you weren’t here anyway... and these four walls are inside your head.

He didn’t write a goodbye letter and I know why. I’ve been there. Putting pen to paper and staring blankly at that sheet with your mind numb and senseless.

He didn’t write because you can’t possibly tell anyone WHY you want to die. It’s almost instinctive when that much pain exists inside of you, and is known and acknowledged only to you. Tailored made just to your size. It comes naturally to your mind, like an ejector button. Pressing hard down on that button, ready to vacate this life.

And everyone wants to understand why? Well, to understand why, you have to know about depression.

Depression doesn’t care if you're black/ white, gay/straight, female/male young /old. It doesn’t care where you come from, your ethnicity or background... Depression doesn’t care about your life goals, ambitions or dreams.

Depression doesn’t discriminate.

It’s a foreign invader that inhabits your body, mind and soul. It makes you nothing more than a shell.

I call it the silent killer. I call it this when, yet again, its end becomes a suicide. It silences you. You have no words to speak.

So at 19, when I was sitting there on the kitchen floor, with the pills out neatly in front of me, I hesitated. That hesitation saved me. That hesitation was me recalling a quote I had read on a mental health article I read a few months back. It stated something along the lines of people who plan to take their own lives, do so to seek relief from the pain they are in. However once they have died they will never experience that relief. They die feeling that pain. And I was overcome by a feeling of absolute panic. What was I to do! Will I never be free and look at what my depression had led me to. And it took all my strength to fight my depression and I’m still fighting to this day. Because we all owe it to ourselves to try, and we should fight our most when we are at our lowest.

He didn’t leave a note and yes I know why... But here is my note to him.

I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you felt you had no other option. That you thought this was your ONLY option. I’m sorry you felt in that much pain and it became so unbearable. It must have been so hard for you. You were so brave to fight for so long. Your loss is a tragic one. And a loss like yours will remain in the hearts of your loved ones forever. You were significant. You were loved and you will be remembered.

The life that was lost today wasn’t taken by a young man who committed suicide. It was taken by loneliness, hopelessness and despair. It was taken by depression.

depression
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