Page 57 of Follow My Voice
A tapping sound at the window causes me to turn my head: It’s raining. A bitter smile forms on my lips; of course it’s raining! Life constantly reminds me of everything I’ve lost, like salt in the wound left by my mother’s death. Life wants to sink me.
But I’m already sunk.
You can end it, Klara. You can stop all this pain, all this suffering. Aren’t you tired of fighting every day? What for? Just so you can have another relapse? You’ll never be completely well. Something will always send you back into the corner, cowering in fear. Imagine no more sadness, no more deathly fears every time you go for your quarterly checkup with the oncologist, no more constantly picturing your death by cancer… You don’t want to leave this world like your mother did, slowly and painfully.
Fresh tears retrace the well-laid path down my cheeks as the rain becomes heavier against the glass.
Suicide.
That forbidden word that people avoid like the plague.How could anyone want to end their life? It doesn’t make sense,they say. Sure, it doesn’t make sense for a psychologically stable person. But for those of us with major depression, it’s an option that’s always there in the backs of our minds. I’m not justifying it, I’m not promoting it, but I understand why it’s a thought. That doesn’t mean I’m going to do it, but I can admit to thinking about it.
Why?
That’s the big question, isn’t it?
Why would I do such a thing?
Because living hurts—trudging through days with the feeling of drowning because I don’t see the point of anything.Why am I alive? Why should I go on? If I often struggle to find meaning in anything I do, why keep doing it?I’m exhausted by so many monotonous, colorless days without any feeling besides pain.What’s the point of staying here?
Emotional fatigue. It’s led me to think about suicide several times during my periods of depression. When you feel like you can’t take it anymore, like you just want the pain to stop, for it all to end, suicide can seem like the only option. The silence and peace only death can offer are tempting in the midst of the chaos caused by depression. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Kamila, it’s a coping mechanism to deal with these thoughts.
“I want you to imagine a spectacular landscape with lush green trees, a cool breeze, green grass, flowers everywhere, clear skies,” my sister says in a soothing voice. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say, my eyes closed.
“Now, suddenly, the sky clouds over, the flowers lose their color,torrential rain begins to fall, flooding everything… Hurricane-force winds whip through the trees, stripping them of their leaves. How does it look now?”
“Very bad.”
“That storm is depression, Klara, and with it comes suicidal thoughts, asking why not end it all. But even if the landscape is damaged by the storm, you need to remember how beautiful the view will be again… Why?”
“Because the storm will pass.”
“Exactly. Because even if something is damaged, it can be repaired. When the clouds disperse and the sun comes out again to dry the grass and flowers, when new leaves sprout on the trees, the landscape will be beautiful again, even more than before because it will have survived a storm.”
“I understand.”
“So when you feel overwhelmed, remember what I just told you, okay? Your life is a beautiful landscape, Klara. Admitting that you are in the midst of the storm will help you remember that it has an end, and that you will survive.”
I gently wipe the tears from my face.
“I’m in the midst of the storm,” I say in a broken voice, “but it’s going to pass. I’m going to be okay. I’ve survived so many storms…” My voice breaks. “When I come out of this one, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of that beautiful fucking view.”
25Visit Me
Me:Hey, don’t need that ride today after all.
It’s hard for me to send this message, but I can’t talk to Kang right now. I don’t plan to avoid him forever, but I don’t want him to see me in this mess of a state I’m in.
I have been doing breathing exercises to calm my mind, which seems to be at war with itself. Now, after crying so hard, I’m too exhausted to feel anything, like I’m stuck in some sort of limbo, floating endlessly in the nothingness without thinking, just being.
I need to get back to the real world, and the afternoon sunlight I now see filtering through the window gives me a clue as to how late it is. I just have to make sure there’s no one around before I leave this room.
My phone vibrates with Kang’s reply.
Kang:Everything OK?
No, nothing is okay, Kang, I can’t see you right now… I don’t know how I would feel.
