Contemplating Living

Do I even want to stay alive? I feel this intense, overpowering fear at the notion of staying alive that comes from other parts. They are overwhelmingly panicked. They hate me for staying alive, for even entertaining the notion of continuing to stay alive indefinitely. I think my urgent desire to please authority figures, doctors, anyone really is one of the only things keeping me alive. My desire to please is stronger than my desire to die.

I’m beginning to realize that the question of whether I want to live is not a clear-cut “yes/no” thing. I think it’s more of a spectrum, a continuum. Do I want to live? I mean, parts of me want to. But they don’t want to live this life. The parts that want to live are the parts that can’t handle or hold trauma, which means they can’t survive being present in our life as it is now. The past year will exist as some massive gap in their memory that they view with guarded curiosity. 

The parts of us who are here, those of us who remember, we don’t want to live enough to keep ourselves alive. There’s a strong feeling of aimlessness or helplessness that makes killing ourselves make sense. Some of us have flimsy “obligations,” while others have nothing keeping us here.

I want to die. I know I shouldn’t, and I know everyone wants me not to, but I can’t handle living. It’s so much. Humans hurt and hurt—that’s all they do. They love so they can take away and hurt more.

I want to slit my wrists and bleed out. On the floor, I would consider all the beautiful things I haven’t seen in this world. I would think about quiet sunrises. I would think about the stars. I would think about the Sistine Chapel. And I would die in peace, head full of beautiful thoughts and warmth and love. I would be okay.

But I have to keep living. Why? Because it’s too hard to kill myself. I just can’t seem to get it right. 

I have to want to live, but that means hurting more. That means prolonging the pain. I don’t think it’s strong or courageous; I think it’s stupid. And I’m so weak. I can’t handle it. I don’t know how anyone does.

I just…I just want to die so much that it kills me.

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