Suicide

Hey, you. Yes, you. Would you consider rolling over here? Maybe just, setting your cursor here, to preview? Or maybe just a quick scan? This topic may concern you, or it may not. You may never have thought of, never considered this seriously. Goody for you. Or perhaps you have? Perhaps you have considered it, maybe even.. tried it? If you have, congrats, someone must have been there for you. Congratulations, you are still alive. I know it might not seem like such a great thing sometimes. Sometimes, it seems like the worst thing ever. Now, if you haven’t given this much thought, or have never tried this, you still probably have an inkling of what I’m talking about. The word you are looking for is this; suicide. Such a simple word, such a simple, ugly word to cause so much pain. If you haven’t thought of this, or don’t know anyone who has tried to kill themselves, you are probably scoffing at this, discounting and dismissing my words before you have even read them.
“Why are you wasting my time with this?” But that is understandable. Just like somebody who might dismiss depression, or cutting. It is because you do not know, or do not want to know, so you do not understand. You have not been touched, have not experienced such things. Keep reading, let me enlighten you. Even now, 2 ½ years later, my sister gets infuriated every time she hears a suicide joke, kids tell each other to go kill themselves, for one reason or another, the term, “Go, jump off a bridge!” or some like. It has become apart of sayings, apart of things that seem okay to say. But my family is aware, that these things are not okay, because of me, they are aware. And now you may be saying, “What a coward, committing suicide, such cowardice.” But that is not right.
That is not how suicide works, but let me tell you. There is no thinking in the process of suicide. There are no thoughts of, “Do I really want to be known as someone who killed themselves? Do I want to be just another statistic?”
Not for people who actually do it, there is none of that. It is like a trance, a sort of detached feeling, no thoughts, just blissful numbness, because you know, you know that the pain is going to stop.  You are beyond anything besides the means. I’m not going to go posting mine, that’s not important.
The important part is, that I smiled, smiled before I did it.
And it should have worked, too. It really should have, there was no bleeding involved. Luckily, my mom found me before I could try something else. I remember shouting that it didn’t work, twice, a sort of wail. I remember my sister’s horrified face, my mom’s tears, as they took me to the hospital. I remember, I remember, I remember. I remember and relive, when we eat at the table, I remember, when I hear a suicide joke I remember. And when I’m feeling bad and am in pain I make myself remember, how every single person in my family was affected, how anyone I ever knew would have been affected, if it had happened. And when I look back on that day, I am so, so glad that it didn’t work.
I hope this has opened some ones eyes, helped some people understand, that suicide is not something to joke about. I hope that maybe this has helped some one know that they are not alone.
And I know that everyone asks this, but it would be nice for anyone who has read this to inform people they know, not even to have other people read this specifically, about how suicide is NOT funny. But I know that some people will not, which is not okay, but understandable. I don’t even think this will get much attention; it’s not pretty or happy enough for that. But I hope it reaches someone who needs it.

                                             ~Zia