My Dying Fantasies

Warning: Contents of this blog regard details about my struggle with suicidal depression.

When I was 3 I felt guilt and shame for the first time.

     Fantasy: Dying.

When I was 7 I rubbed a pair of scissors across my skin for the first time.

     Fantasy: Dying by suffocation.

When I was 10 I voiced allowed ‘I want to kill myself’ for the first time.

     Fantasy: Jumping from a tall building.

When I was 12 I started daydreaming about fainting, thinking it would be as close to death as I was brave enough to go.

     Fantasy: Dying by starvation, alone in the desert.

When I was 13 I began accumulating dozens of different fantasies about dying.

     Fantasy: Jumping in front of a bullet to save a friend.

When I was 14 I went to therapy for the first time.

     Fantasy: Dying by severe seizer in front of my classmates.

When I was 16 I started taking antidepressants.

     Fantasy: Traumatic brain injury. Taken off life support.

When I was 18 I heard a voice that wasn’t mine telling me to hurt myself.

     Fantasy: Taking too much Tylenol and being discovered dead in the bathroom.

When I was 19 I was hospitalized in a psychiatric facility for the first time.

     Fantasy: Slitting my wrists. My last sight would be of my blood draining my worthless body.

When I was 19 I took my first leave of absence from college due to feeling so lost, scared, and alone.

     Fantasy: Car accident, brain dead. No one else injured.

When I was 20 I came home and point blank told my dad, ‘I might not wake up tomorrow’ for the first time.

     Fantasy: Flatlined from a deadly and rare poison.

When I was 21 I was temporarily expelled, after seeking school counseling as they didn’t want to be left liable.

     Fantasy: Gun to my temple in a show of government resistance.

And when I was 27 I visualized meeting death as an old woman.

     Fantasy: Living up to, and maybe past, the ripe old age of 90.

     Fantasy Update: This is my life now. With years of help, support, and love, I’ve found a way to live every day to the fullest.

But other kids like me might not have the support I did, but they can still find a way Out of the Darkness. If they can find a single reason to hold on for just a little bit longer, keep working on just surviving, and find their way to our community we can help them move into truly enjoying life.

That’s why I’m asking you to please donate to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Without my family, without my friends, without my community, I would not be alive to ask for your help today.

So please, DONATE  and help us end the threat of suicide.

Thank You.

All donations are 100% tax deductible and benefit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), funding research, education, advocacy, and support for those affected by suicide. AFSP’s bold goal is to reduce the suicide rate by 20% by 2025.

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