The world is a tough place for me at the moment … I’m currently trying to negotiate how to move forward with the property my ex partner and I share (with the stresses and strains this causes), I’ve been battling to comprehend what it means to be ‘autistic’ and I’ve had to leave my job due to mental and physical fatigue. This has all happened within a very short period of time and doesn’t include the loss of my Aunty to cancer, the splitting up with my partner and my adopted father’s heart attack, all this year in 2019. I’ve lost two stone in weight, my diet has gone from relatively healthy to atrocious or non-existent, I don’t have the motivation to properly groom myself, my sleep patterns are all over the place and my heart rate rises to astronomical levels when performing the simplest of tasks due to anxiety and panic. Who would of thought turning thirty would be so rough? With all this in mind I can confirm that yes, I have contemplated suicide.
Now naturally, some people may be reading this and probably thinking one a few things dependant on their relationship to me:
1.Those who do not know me maybe intrigued to carry on reading to understand how someone comes to think this way
2.Those I call acquaintances may think it is just an ‘act’, a way to vie for attention. That I am simply ‘over exaggerating’
3.For those I hold dearest there maybe an element of shock … because this isn’t something I have discussed with anyone other than professional medical practitioners.
I am not writing this to change opinions or minds of those who think little of me. I am writing this to educate those who do not understand what it is like to live in a world where the joy has been sucked out of it to the point you consider ‘ending it’.
To those I upset in my writing I apologise in advance.
To those who are concerned, I can assure you, this isn’t a suicide note. For better or worse I’m going to try and work things out.
I use to think, sceptically, suicide was the easy option. It was for people who didn’t want to face the difficulties or responsibilities of life. If this view sounds familiar to you, please listen to me when I say, for the most part, it is wrong. I believe now this attitude only applies to a very small percentage of cases. For example, cases where someone has committed a serious criminal act and can not face the responsibility of their actions by going to jail. As you can tell this is a very specific example, usually things aren’t so strict and clear cut … especially in the subject we are currently discussing.
From my experience it comes from exhaustion and a loss of fight. The will to carry on is no longer there. To give it a metaphorical example, it is the boxer who has punched themselves out early in the eighth round and now has no way to defend themselves in the next four rounds from the onslaught of the opponent. So when he returns to the corner at the end of the round he has a decision to make; does he throw in the towel and accept his loses, or does he continue, hoping he won’t sustain more damage trying to make it to the end of the twelfth? In this example I am sure many would agree that throwing in the towel may be the sensible decision. Protecting themselves and anyone else from further harm. So why are people who decide to end their lives considered weak and selfish if they no longer have it in them to carry on?
Let me take time to clarify that I am not advocating the taking of one’s life. What I am trying to promote is an understanding and a respect for those who feel that they can no longer go on. At the risk of further self-indulgence, let me try and further explain it from my experience …
There is a level of perspective that is needed with this notion. As I write this I understand that I am doing so from a warm comfy bed in a dry house, using an iPad to type. I am more aware than anybody that my situation isn’t as dire as many others, but this forms part of the problem, guilt. Part of my difficulty is that I don’t feel entitled to feel the way I do, and this makes me feel worse. Why should I be whining and crying when the world is full of war, disease and malnutrition? I am clothed, bathed and fed and have a level of freedom that some people will never experience (granted I am not as affluent as others, but its relevance to this point is invalid) but this adds to the sinking feeling of dread.
The brain and mind (purposefully and definitively separated) are very complex devices that can act out illogically. You could be experiencing the happiest situation in your life but, out of nowhere, you decide to start thinking about something truly horrific, tainting your experience. Why? This, in a nutshell is the complexity of mental health.
I appreciate the sporadic and dark nature of this article may put people off reading. But if you did get this far, I appreciate your time in doing so and like to leave you with one last thing …
War isn’t necessarily defined by boarders or territory and sometimes doesn’t have a clearly defined opposition … but there is always a winner and a loser. So the war that might be going on in someone’s psyche may be lost not simply because they have given up or the are lazy, but because they simply can’t go on anymore and don’t know what to fight.
aJNation71 
“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thanks for sharing how you’re feeling AJ. Always reach out if you need it, people will reach back to you. All the best X
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