Posted By Afro-Awesome Guest contributor
On Jul 7, 2016
By anonymous
Trigger Warning: Suicide
My heart is beating fast. My palms are sweating. I sit down and take deep breaths. I can’t really think. Well, except for one thing. I can’t even say it out loud.
To be honest I’m scared.
I’m unable to talk yet I want people to see the turmoil wrecking my being. I’m scared for my life. Scared of what might happen should I be left on my own. I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks but my eyes are dry. I am crying inside and smiling to the world. This scares me.
My mind is caressing an idea, playing with the notion of what I might do. I push the thought to the back of my mind.
What demon is this? I know darkness but not this kind. This is new to me. I’m scared for my life.
I call a loved one with the hope that I might open up to her but the words get stuck in my throat. I end up hoping she would pick it up from my voice. My voice betrays me and she asks what is wrong. I tell her I’m fine. What is this? Why can’t I tell her how deeply troubled I am? And why doesn’t she ask further? Why doesn’t she probe? Why does she accept that I’m fine? But it’s fine because I would just tell her I’m fine. I am scared for my life.
Is this how suicidal people think?
There is more on mental health on the site, like this piece on sharing their thoughts on their mental state, this one our live tweet on mental health, this piece on whether Africans need therapy and this one on one woman’s struggle with her mental health and her past.
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