Tonight I was sitting painting my fingernails and humming a song and thought to myself,
‘Wow, I’m really glad I didn’t kill myself all the times I’ve really wanted to.’
And then I started thinking about my classmate from high school who committed suicide this week and I really feel for him, and it all scares me and makes me really, really sad. Because I understand what it’s like to need release from yourself in such a profound way. I would like to say that I can’t imagine the terror and the agony he must have felt, but I can.
How many times have I stopped short from taking that last step?
I’m so sorry that this was the only way he felt he could find peace. I’m just so sad and sorry. I hope he found what he needed when he made that last choice, and I hope I never have to.
