This is the story about a woman trying to be brave to speak up and find a way how to deal with her complex emotions that sometimes lead her to feel despair and thinking about killing herself just to be free from the pain.
Cover picture:
hidellbrooks...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Some believe that having such thoughts could be a sign of depression or experiencing a life crisis. I grew up in an environment where people conveyed to me that it's not acceptable to express emotions, especially when I'm not feeling okay. I've kept all my feelings to myself. As a kid, whenever sadness or pain overwhelmed me, I would retreat myself to my room, shedding tears until I could hardly breathe, then eventually drifting into a deep sleep. I consider my room to be like a nurturing mother, and my pillow as a comforting father who always provides solace. Usually, kids would seek out their parents to confide in and share their feelings, whatever that is. I don't have that privilege with my parents.
My mom has step-siblings, since I was a kid they have always constantly posed a threat to me, and told me not to confide in my parents about anything that happened to me. They also have kids my age or younger who were like a brat and spoiled. They liked to engage in various troubling behaviors towards me — occasionally pushing me off low stairs causing me to fall, hitting me, pulling my hair, and subjecting me to verbal abuse such as calling me names...fat girl, dark-skinned girl, ugly, and so on. I faced both physical and mental bullying from my own family members or relatives since childhood. And I couldn't say a thing to my parents or my own siblings because I had been raised and trained to be a quiet and obedient kid to my relatives, my family, or anyone. However, deep down, I knew that if I were to speak up about what happened to me as a kid, my father would probably believe me and defend me, whereas my mother would not. She always treated me like a stranger, showing more affection towards her step-siblings than her own kids. There were moments when I was 22 years old...the feelings were too much and I got overwhelmed out of it, because my relatives continued their behavior into adulthood (verbally bullying me). I couldn't bear the feelings any longer, I finally confided in my mom, yet only to be scolded and accused of fabricating stories. She insisted that her step-sibling, or my cousins would never do such a thing because we are all family...she said again that family don't do such a thing to one another.
I smiled and I walked away, "you don't know, mom. You just don't know". I murmured...and tears welled up in my eyes as I made myself to my room, carrying the weight of the pain in silence.
I have many things I'd like to share with you — countless memories from my childhood, however, for now, I'll refrain from delving into those stories and continue with more detail later on.
Back to the title of this writing — I Want To Die, What Would It Feel Like?
I've always pondered about death even since childhood — I wonder, what would it feel like after taking my last breath? Where will I go? Will I finally find tranquility and contentment? Will I be happy? This new place that I might end up in after I die — will people accept me? Will there be someone who loves me and protects me?
There are so many thoughts in my head that sometimes make me want to scream. I often try to let it out when the things in my head become unbearable, but it never happens. The voice never comes out. Only the heavy feelings in my chest that feels like suffocating me.
The ocean...it's incredibly beautiful to envision my journey concluding there, fading away and merging with the vast expanse of the ocean. There's always an inexplicable force pulling me, urging me to release this pain into the waves. I picture myself walking from the shore into the depths, adorned in a flowing white maxi dress, with a smile on my face...believing that I will finally be liberated from this torment.
I'm trying to understand something in me, a complex blend of emotions— anger, sadness, peace, and wisdom that coexisting in an intricate dance. When I feel at peace, I can manage and control these emotions. Yet, when an external force disrupts my inner peace, I find myself losing control. It's like thrust onto a solitary battlefield, facing thousands of enemies alongside with a pack of wolves. Sometimes I emerge victorious, while at other times, I succumb and perish, torn apart by both, which represent another side of myself.
