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



62 thoughts on “Hoping to Die

  1. This is incredible. Beautifully written. I could feel your pain and I can relate to it because I have been there myself too many times. I am sorry you had that pain and I am very happy you are doing better now. May I please share this on my blog for my suicide prevention awareness campaign during the month of September? Much love and hugs, Sue


  2. Did you end up getting on medications? How did you get out of it? It takes me a lot of mental energy to not feel depressed, so much that it is exhausting and very hard for me to feel other people’s struggles or complaints. I’ve been struggling with it my whole life, so it’s very difficult to consider the possibility of needing help

    Liked by 1 person

  3. As I am getting back up on my blog from long ago I am checking in on all who connected with me back then…I read this post, so worth sharing…I will reach out and share in the near future when I get up and running. I am glad you are here. Kathy

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Yes, thank you for your courage and strength and willingness to share such a personal time in your life. Although I personally have never come close to what you experienced, I do and have suffered with depression. Sometimes it is so dark and hopeless that it scares me. I try to remember to thank God everyday that I am not depressed. Jason, I am glad that God was watching over you and brought you out of that darkness. God bless you and your family.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. There is a line between depression and suicidal ideation. Many of us have walked that line, you went far beyond it. I’m so glad you lived to tell. Your poem is horrific and beautiful, all at once. Thanks for sharing such a personal story.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Thank you for sharing your story with us in such an honest, vulnerable way. I think many of us have been there to varying degrees and to write about it in the way that you did is helpful for so many people. Because we feel we aren’t alone in those feelings and we can see that someone else has endured those feelings and even gone to the edge and yet is still here. Sending big hugs. I’m glad you’re still here xo

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I thank you for your words. I, too, have felt what you felt at that moment of despair. No matter how many people told me that it would be alright, I didn’t believe them. I am not ashamed of how I felt. As you said, we are all human. I am very happy for anyone that has not felt this way. However, for those of us who have, that moment of despair when you decide to end it all, is all too common. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. As a pharmacist, it was very easy for me to get access to the pills. I don’t like talking about that experience or even thinking about it, but I will never forget the last moments before I slipped into unconsciousness – my husband (boyfriend then), took the same pills and told the paramedics “if you can’t save her, don’t bother saving me”. That moment was the turning point in my life.

    Liked by 6 people

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