Hoping to Die

There was a time in my life when the land was covered in darkness. It did not matter what time of the day it was there was simply no light. I walked the world a ghost and prayed to any god that would listen that he or she would simply end it for me. I wanted to die. I wrote the below poem in remembrance of that time of weakness.

And there they lay. The tools of the day. A razor, a pile of pills, and a bottle of Tanqueray.

I have stared in the mirror for hours. All have gone to bed. With each tear has come resolve. We may as well end it all. I hate you. With a hand I gulp the pills, the bottle is already near. I gulp death’s companion. And to the left are the backup dancers.

A letter to someone… I hope… anyone?

Never there is a reply. I say this aloud now as the razor cuts once, twice, thrice… and as the ice cold water washes away my sight. I feel life fleeing from my nearing empty vessel. And suddenly a wrongness, a surrender of an opportunity? I do not know.

And as the light flees the coming darkness, all I can do is embrace the growing warmth.

People fail to realize that there is depression and there is suicidal. To me suicidal is the point you reach when you just don’t care. You could give a shit less about heaven or hell, they are one and the same because your life has become a living hell. It doesn’t matter how many “do gooders” speak soft words in your direction, you only see darkness.

I remember well that time still to this day. The feeling of that night, sitting online and telling a few “close online friends” that I just didn’t care. That it was time to see what the next page brought. I remember a feeling of finality when I shut down my mother’s computer. My steps were almost light as I walked slowly upstairs. Neither asleep, nor really awake… I walked like a man in a daze to my bathroom. I starred at myself in the mirror for what seems like hours and in those precious minutes I decided I was ready to die. I made that choice. I took those pills and I drank that bottle to the head and I remember smiling. Because finally I didn’t feel so cold anymore. The warmth of death was my friend that night and I was ready to receive him.

It changes you… that type of experience. It is nothing to brag about and many might feel ashamed of that type of weakness. To feel ashamed of being human is a shame in itself. I was human that night, but I am lucky my humanity failed to die.

-Opinionated Man

Jason C. Cushman

@smokendust

44.1

hr

71 thoughts on “Hoping to Die

  1. Pingback: Hoping to die – I was human that night, but I am lucky my humanity failed to die #depression #suicidal – Reworking Joseph

  2. I had to control my emotions as I read this –thinking about all the kids I’ve counseled over the past three years who have had suicidal ideations, had plans, and attempted to end it all. I pray for them, and I’ll pray for you. Your voice is needed, and I’m glad you’re still here.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’ve been there on very dark and depressing days. I was never suicidal until I was put on a bunch of “happy pills” for instance this July I was so down n dark i thought about ODing on vaca going to bed and waking up in Heaven there is a God that loves you! You’re not alone! John 3:16 if u have more questions let me know!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I’m sorry this happened to you Jason. That pit of depression that creates suicidal ideation is misunderstood and stigmatized. Thank you for sharing so openly and honestly. I’m glad you failed.

    Like

  5. I thank God that you didn’t succeed in dying. The world would have been an emptier place without you. The people who read your blogs would have missed out on your humour and your writings.
    At one point in my life I also spent time in that darkness – it allows me to view people differently now and,surprisingly, not to take life so seriously anymore!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Pingback: Hoping to Die — HarsH ReaLiTy | therapy-cooking

  7. I am so glad you did not die that night. You still have so much living left to do! And I am very glad that I did not die either, when I reached the point where I could not take the pain of my life anymore, and I hung myself at the age of 15. Thank God thank God thank God, I did not die! I have three adult children and three grandchildren, one who is a student at Harvard. None of them would be here if I had died before my time in 1969.

    The best part of my life has been since the age of 50. You don’t want to miss out on the best part of your life! ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  8. Jason, you and I have much in common. I understand all the feelings you had that night, both before and after. There were many attempts with pills, bathtubs, etc. Sometimes I would be found and taken to the hospital and sometimes I would just reach that numb point where at least I didn’t hurt inside anymore. If you haven’t already read it, you might find this post interesting.https://beinglydiadotcom.wordpress.com/2016/09/10/im-an-overcomer/
    Oh, and I am really glad we both are still around!
    Lydia!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Yes, just like bg said. We are ALL important. Thank you for sharing. I hope you are doing better. Mental illness is a neverending struggle, but it gets better….then it gets worse…but then it gets better again. The better days are the ones you have to look forward to.

    Liked by 2 people

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