Not wanting to be alive but also not wanting to end your life. Yes, suicide exists on a spectrum.
I don’t want to end my life, I also don’t want to be alive.
Hopelessness, pain, depression and despair so unimaginable that death seems the only option. That comes to mind when I think about why so many people commit suicide. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S. I guess I’m one of the “lucky ones”, my life has been devastated by similar feelings of hopelessness but I’ll never kill myself. I’ve never wanted to die; I just didn’t want to live. What exactly does that mean? Very basically, it means I don’t have an “action plan” to die. I have not thought about the logistics, I haven’t actively thought of suicide in detail, I have no plan in place. This is known as passive suicide ideation. Am I really one of the lucky ones though? Not necessarily wanting to die but also not wanting to live? I’ll continue living in misery and sadness for decades to come never actually being able to pull the trigger. Too empathetic to leave my family behind to deal with the emotional fallout that my unexpected death would cause. Too aware of how difficult it would be to process that emotional trauma. Too guilty to leave my partner to pick up the pieces alone.
The Zoloft, Prozac, Klonopin, Paxil, Buspar and Xanax the psychiatrist prescribed me were foreign to them.
I’ve been mentally ill since the age of fourteen, I just celebrated my thirty second birthday in December. As a teenager, I felt so alone and so misunderstood, like I was an alien among humans. They all looked exactly alike, they talked alike and they felt and expressed the same feelings. They voluntarily congregated for small talk in large groups. I couldn’t relate with that. They didn’t wake up like I did with infinite sadness that consumed me. The “others” I called them. The others didn’t vomit when they couldn’t bring themselves to say “good morning” to a new group of people. Their hands didn’t tremble, their hearts didn’t beat out of their chests and they could speak clearly in social situations. It’s a miracle I had friends at this point in my life because the normal things they did and enjoyed were so foreign to me. The Zoloft, Prozac, Klonopin, Paxil, Buspar and Xanax the psychiatrist prescribed me were foreign to them. Generalized depression and social anxiety are a bitch. I was young and undiagnosed back then though. Although my parents were as supportive as they could be, we had no idea what we were dealing with.
Over the years, I’ve come to realize that many people can and do have the same feelings as I do but aren’t capable of talking about them as openly as I can.
Seventeen years. Can you imagine being consumed by this much confusion, depression, anxiety, loneliness, sadness, insomnia and hopelessness with no relief for seventeen years? At times, I think a lot of people can understand. The “others” as I previously described them may in fact be the minority and people like me, the majority. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that many people can and do have the same feelings as I do but aren’t capable of talking about them as openly as I can. Maybe it’s the seventeen years of therapy or maybe it's my personality type (INFJ). Maybe it's my need to dismantle the stigma surrounding mental health, mental illness and the like. I’m unsure of the exact reason, but it’s inevitable that I will always be an advocate. I will talk about the importance of mental health education until the day I die (no pun intended). Mental health issues are not a me or you problem, it’s a global epidemic that effects the U.S at incredibly high rates (1.38 million estimated suicide attempts in 2019). If so many individuals are affected, why is there so much shame, stigma and misinformation surrounding mental health issues? If there are people like me suffering from passive suicidal ideation, why aren't they talking about it? In my not so humble opinion, the answer is relatively simple yet layered. The American media, religion, the patriarchy, capitalism and consumerism play a large role.
We are more often than not shown images, movies and literature that paint a picture of the perfect American dream.
The media influences so much of our thoughts, so much so that we internalize ideas that were never originally ours. These thoughts then become automatic and dictate our patterns and behaviors. Most media consumers are unaware of how problematic this is. We are more often than not shown images, movies and literature that paint a picture of the perfect American dream. This dream is free from any sadness, mental health issues and especially passive suicide ideation. Social media promotes the toxic “hustle & grind culture” which includes the “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” mantra. How are we to know that it’s normal to feel unhappy or God forbid tired? It’s not as if our education system was created to value anything other than the sciences and high SAT scores. We weren’t taught to balance. How are children supposed to learn that the human experience ranges from feelings of sadness to feelings of joy? Parents some might say, parents should teach them. Did your parents sit you down and educate you on emotional regulation? Were you taught that having a range of emotions was normal? Or were you disciplined for displaying anything other than gratitude and happiness? I was told to “cheer up”, and “be more positive”. This automatically made me feel dismissed, like my feelings weren't valid and something was wrong with me. During this time, I desperately needed to fit in like any other kid so I tried to mimic my “normal” peers. Which ironically made me feel more alone and like an outcast. American media in 2022 has definitely improved but it is nowhere near where it should be. The solution could be as simple as listening, and encouraging discussions about mental health issues like passive suicide ideation. Simply talking about these feelings is a form of therapy. Having these difficult conversations slowly breaks down the stigmas and barriers surrounding emotional health. Is this possible in the U.S?
We are a society of people whose main goal in life is to succeed at our jobs, make a substantial amount of money and still come home to a mortgage we can’t afford.
American patriarchy does an excellent job of confining men to boxes that are simultaneously suffocating and seemingly impossible to escape. We reward men for being bread winners and completing twelve hour work days. For working so hard and being so exhausted that they have no time or energy left to spend with their families or take care of their mental health. Most men aren’t even aware of what it means to care for their mental health or have work life balance. This is by design. If we are all mindless working cogs in the machine, the success of the rich increases. We are a society of people whose main goal in life is to succeed at our jobs, make a substantial amount of money and still come home to a mortgage we can’t afford. If we fail at this one goal, how is our worth then measured? By American standards, we have no worth. These men are then left with an emptiness inside that they have no idea how to navigate because we taught them to bury all emotions that appear feminine or weak. Their end result is despair, hopelessness, feeling alone, and not feeling comfortable talking to anyone about their emotions. According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention white males accounted for 69.38% of suicide deaths in 2019 https://afsp.org/suicide-statistics/. On the opposite spectrum of patriarchy, women are often gas lit by being told that we are hysterical and dramatic when in pain or mental anguish. If our valid feelings are so often dismissed, why would we want to make a spectacle of ourselves by admitting that we need help?
Do we really need the newest BMW or do we have unresolved childhood trauma that consuming temporarily pacifies?
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