My Life, My History

Suicidal Shadows

Queen Elizabeth Quarry Gardens
https://maps.app.goo.gl/3Dmx3hpZiLpCz1YU7

2001/2002
There was a beautiful Sakura tree here that I planned to sit under while I popped pills, drank alcohol, and then slit my wrists vertically to ensure my death would be final.

My first actual attempt at suicide was when I was about 13 or 14 and I took a bunch of different pills that were supposed to react badly with each other and cause coma and death. I was incredibly disappointed when I woke up the next morning with nothing but brain fog and a headache.

I started considering all the different ways that could lead to my death when I was much younger than that. Not sure how "normal" that is, but I thought about it quite frequently. I didn't feel very wanted or loved, especially after my grandfather died. I often thought it would have been better if I had just never even existed to begin with. I felt like a burden and an annoyance, especially to my mother and grandmother, but if I expressed this out loud my grandmother would get really upset so I eventually learned to just shut the fuck up and keep my dark thoughts to myself.

And to be clear, I never needed drugs to help me to "feel better". There was never anything wrong with me, and there is still nothing wrong with me. I come by who I am honestly. My thoughts and feelings are totally normal for anyone who went through similar experiences from a young age.

The reality is that I didn't get what I needed in terms of love and care as a child. I am not alone in this. There are many other people out there who can relate to how I think and they have all devised their own ways and methods of dealing with the pain and emptiness. There are some things you simply cannot replace. Neurotransmitters are nothing but useless band-aid solutions that wear off or create dependency/tolerance or cause awful side-effects, or you simply become immune to their effects. It's better to figure out your own way, even though the "experts" may disagree. Most of the "experts" are fucking clueless about real hardships other than what they read from case studies and from textbooks. Most of them don't have real life experiences they can draw from so their opinions aren't even close to being worth their weight in salt.

All that said, it's not like I didn't have a reason to feel like I was better off dead. My mother resented my existence and my grandmother continually rejected me in favour of my mother. My aunts and uncles experienced something very similar. No wonder all of them are legal pill addicts and/or are/were alcoholics.

I think I'm the only one now in my family who doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs, or take pills. I deal with things mostly through creative communication: writing, drawing, photography, making videos, and posting stuff online. Or I deal with stuff by exercising, playing video games, listening to music and podcasts, going to work, and generally doing all that "normal" shit that other humans do.

I guess I wallow in the shadows more than some people do, but being in the darkness feels like home to me. So fuck your fluffy fuzzy feelings garbage and your sparkly shiny sunshine shit. I lit my own fire in this dark abyss, and it's mesmerizing, comfortable, and wickedly hot. I still fucking hate myself and this world routinely, but the darkness is all I've ever known... and sometimes I feel alone... and maybe someday I won't be alone in it, and maybe I'll be alone in it until I die. I just know this is the only place and way I know how to be so it actually feels like I am being authentically me. 🖤