Tuesday, 2 March 2021
No one talks about what happens after a suicidal person survives.
They all talk about how grateful they are that they're alive and how great life can be now that they're better.
"Living is beautiful,"- yes, it is.
But also, fuck you.
It's terrifying.
I have been somewhat suicidal since I was 13. I thought I wouldn't make it to high school, and when I did I thought I wouldn't make it to 18. And then I did.
I am going to be 20 in 3 months. I was not supposed to make it here, so i didn't plan so far ahead.
It was fine for me to say I wanted to be a mother, live in a foreign country, have a million ferrets or even be a fucking astronaut, because it would never happen.
I didn't want a future, so I never planned one.
It was all just dreams.
But then I survive and actually want to live, for the first time in years.
That is marvellous. But now that I have a future, a life, I have absolutely no idea what I am supposed to do with it.
I don't know what I wanna do for a living, where or if I wanna go to college.
I don't know who I wanna be, where do I wanna go, how many kids do I want or even if I can have a ferret as a pet.
It's ridiculous.
Everyone talks about the happiness they finally feel, and the hope and gratefulness, and that is all true.
But so is the confusion, the fear and the hidden resentment.
There is so much I can do that I never actually believe I would or could.
I can. And I will, you know why?
Because I am alive.
Life is terrifyingly beautiful.
And even if I am anxious about it, I could not be more excited about all new possibilities.
YOU ARE READING
Head High
Non-FictionI am eighteen now, and still scared. I haven't always been a scared person, life somehow made me that way at some point. Over the summer I learnt to fight back. I am still scared, but you don't know. Because I have my head held high. And mark my wor...
