Response
I found a post on a website. The person was talking about killing themselves and resenting those that tell them not to be sad or to be happy. They were asking why it isn't okay to think that suicide is the answer that they have no future. This was my response to that....
Their words do carry weight and I can't tell you it will get better, because that depends on you. I have been there. I have filled the tub half with water. I have put the knife to my wrist and pressed until it was just this side of cutting. I have been there more times then I can count, on that edge of life and death, but I always stopped and thought. I can't tell you what I thought but it gave me hope for a better day tomorrow. It gave me courage to stand up the next day and listen to the same things. It gave me myself to stand beside, myself to hold me up and provide a shoulder. Along the way there were hands that picked me up but without myself to give me courage I never would have made it. What ever thought it was (my mother finding me laying in a pool of blood) that gave me (my grandmother weeping and with drawling away from the world) courage and (my grandfather's anger to hide his sadness) hope but whatever it was (the things I would miss all those experiences) kept me going (and once the voices started to quiet and I could really live) through the worst of their torments. I survived it. I survived it and so can you. My inbox is always open and if you choose to talk to me
Their words do carry weight and I can't tell you it will get better, because that depends on you. I have been there. I have filled the tub half with water. I have put the knife to my wrist and pressed until it was just this side of cutting. I have been there more times then I can count, on that edge of life and death, but I always stopped and thought. I can't tell you what I thought but it gave me hope for a better day tomorrow. It gave me courage to stand up the next day and listen to the same things. It gave me myself to stand beside, myself to hold me up and provide a shoulder. Along the way there were hands that picked me up but without myself to give me courage I never would have made it. What ever thought it was (my mother finding me laying in a pool of blood) that gave me (my grandmother weeping and with drawling away from the world) courage and (my grandfather's anger to hide his sadness) hope but whatever it was (the things I would miss all those experiences) kept me going (and once the voices started to quiet and I could really live) through the worst of their torments. I survived it. I survived it and so can you. My inbox is always open and if you choose to talk to me