i wanted to die today. i initiated step one of an eight-point suicide plan. the reason my suicide plan has eight steps is to create ample time and space to change my mind. step one is writing my goodbye letters, explaining my choice and actions to the people who would grieve most. i’ve written those letters many times, but i haven’t written one in several years. the first goodbye letter i wrote today consisted of only one line: i needed you as a friend. i stopped there. i realized that i had to abort the mission, because if i actualized it, if i wrote that letter and all the other letters and continued with steps two through eight that i would hurt the recipient of the first letter more than i’ve already hurt him and myself thus far. he would hate me for it and hate himself, too. i didn’t want to imagine him reading that letter.
i cried til my swollen eyes burned too badly for more tears and then i called someone i trust. he said, “do you want me to come over or do you want to come to my place or meet somewhere else?” i didn’t tell him why i wanted to see him. i didn’t tell him that i was at step one and trying to brake the momentum that threatens to end everything. it doesn’t matter to him why i want or need to see him, because he always wants to see me, he is consistently available to me, he is a true friend. i am most grateful for the people i can call that remind me to stay alive, to feel alive, to be alive in order to love.
i’m sitting on his love seat right now. he is sitting on the couch to my right. he doesn’t know i’m writing this. (i don’t know what he is typing, either.) we’re working next to each other because i can’t trust myself to be alone right now. i don’t have to be alone. i never have to be alone, although i choose it most of the time. i’m going to be okay now. i wouldn’t be writing this post if i intended to kill myself. if i were gonna do it, i wouldn’t mention it. most people i love have been suicidal at some point in their lives. most people who are suicidal won’t talk about it during the critical period. i’m writing about it today because people who feel that way need to know, must be reminded, that they are not alone. wait one day. step two of my suicide plan is to wait one day. the logic leads that if i’m gonna off myself, it’ll be an equally good decision tomorrow. usually one day is long enough to make a new choice. if not, other place markers and time passers stretch in-between steps three through seven. only the eighth step kills me. i’ve never made it past step four. i’ve never made it more than halfway there. i’ll be okay. will you be okay? please ask for help. please call a friend. it doesn’t have to be a suicidally imperative plea, maybe you’re feeling sad or frustrated or blah. ask for support. ask someone you trust, someone you can depend on, someone who loves you, someone who knows your fragile vulnerabilities to hold you for a moment. ask to sit on their love seat.
every little thing is gonna be alright.