Does it ever get better?

“Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

I used to hate those words.  I found them insulting.  They didn’t take all scenarios into account.  Those words were just meant for otherwise happy people going through a rough patch.  My ENTIRE LIFE was not a TEMPORARY problem, goddamn it!

As a child, every day I feared one of my family members would kill another.  Every day the people I went to school with mocked and berated me ceaselessly.  Even physically assaulted me at times.  Every day the people I called “friend” didn’t actually give a damn about me.  Couldn’t be bothered to ask me what was wrong if they saw me hurting.  Couldn’t even pick up the phone and call me to say “hello”.  One call, I used to think, would be enough to make a difference.  But that phone never rang.

Every day I felt like I had no one.  Every day I wished I was dead.  Every day, the only thing keeping me from killing myself was my refusal to let “them” win.  I never knew feeling another way, even in elementary school.  Enough years go by feeling that way… you don’t think it can EVER change.

The theme song from the show “Friends” has that line “when it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year”.  I heard a radio DJ once say, when talking about that song, something to the effect of “if it hasn’t been your year, it’s time to throw in the towel”.  (Damned radio DJ’s… no one should ever take their drivel seriously.)  So what about those like me – where EVERY year hasn’t been their year?!

Yeah… those like us?  That slogan doesn’t apply to those like us.  Or so I thought.

It took a LONG time for things to change, a lot of fuck ups, and A LOT of FIGHT.  And I didn’t even notice that things were getting better until one day I turned around and realized I had an entirely different life.

Even though I didn’t appreciate the significance at the time, I do know when it started to get better for me.  The fundamental difference.

In my case, it was something so small.  So simple.  One little pill, and all I needed to do… was take it… EVERY day.  Stop convincing myself that there is nothing wrong with me and going off the meds… AGAIN.  Having the courage to accept that I had a mental illness, and that did NOT make me weak.  What was weak was refusing to accept help when I needed it.

It wasn’t the first pill I tried that finally helped.  More like the sixth.  Pharmacology isn’t an exact science.

And then when I FINALLY found the right one… that pill didn’t make all my problems go away.  My life still sucked.  But something was different… ME.  My outlook.  I realized that with time and effort, I could CHANGE my circumstances.  And I did.

It took years.  Years where I still felt like I was failing.  But I didn’t want to die anymore.  Now, I wanted to make things better instead.  Until one day I looked back and realized… I LIKED my life. It’s not perfect.  I still struggle and have hard times.  But… life is full of ups and downs.  Now I know when things are down, they WILL go back up again.  Turns out it really was a temporary problem.  For some people, temporary is just A LOT longer.

If you’re struggling, don’t give up.  No matter how hopeless it seems – there is ALWAYS hope.  And if you see someone struggling, show them you care.  You may never realize that your kindness was the difference between life and death.


6 thoughts on “Does it ever get better?

  1. This is such an important message, thank you for sharing!

    • zumasrevenge says:

      Thank you for commenting! It means a lot to me that this message might actually help someone who went through what I did, but I honestly never even expected anyone to read this.

  2. What you don’t understand is that you offer hope for something the suicidal person doesn’t really want.

    We want to die. That’s it. How things could be better doesn’t matter anymore since we made our choice. We’re not interesting to carry this burden, these memories and ourselves anymore.

    Why should someone wait so many years, though? Are you going to gamble all your money at the roulette table with hopes of winning, over and over? No? Then we don’t feel like gambling anymore.

    • zumasrevenge says:

      I’m not offering hope for those who don’t want it, I am offering hope for those who DO. If you already made up your mind to kill yourself, this post is hardly going to change that. If you HAVEN’T made up your mind to kill yourself, but you think about it every day because you don’t think it can ever get better – then I want you to know that IT CAN.

      There are no easy fixes. If you don’t want to try, then you aren’t going to try. I’m not your master, I am not forcing anything upon you. I am simply sharing on my personal blog something it took me a very long time to learn – HOPE. Because no matter what the problem is, it CAN be overcome. IF, and only if, you WANT it to.

  3. eyeofparadox says:

    I am well acquainted with the depths of despair; that place where words hurt in every way and never more than when they give the faintest glimmer of the only thing that could possibly be worse than despair: hope.

    Hope makes you drag yourself through the hell you’re trapped in when you’re so broken it’s a miracle you can even move. Hope makes you choke down the agony and anguish, and endure whatever punishment life heaps on top of it, for the unlikely and virtually impossible chance you will survive the pain long enough to discover what it’s like to be free of it.

    To be honest, you need hope to suffer. Things can be so bad, you believe there is no hope, but the fact that you’re suffering is evidence that you still have hope even if you no longer know what you hope for. It’s still there, telling you that what’s happening to you is wrong. Hope defies reason, and at some point reason rejects hope.

    We reach a point where we become afraid of hope, the certainty that we can always suffer more, especially when our suffering never seems to ease. We want it to end, so we call our hope foolish and blind. We try to deny that it exists, but we cannot bear the thought of a pointless, hopeless, miserable existence. So, we reject existence; we reject ourselves.

    We cling to the idea that we’re not worth our suffering. The irony is, when you try to confront Nothing, you end up confronting yourself. When you stand there, truly believing that life is impossible, you overlook the obvious: You have to be alive to feel enough pain to think that way. So, impossible or not, there it is.

    Maybe it’s not as hard as you think, to do the impossible. If the only way to escape from hope is by escaping from your very existence, maybe you can finally understand that no one HAS hope. The truth is, we ARE hope.

    When you start to think about killing yourself, what’s really happening is that you’ve realized that even when your pain has become overwhelming, you can still endure worse–but you don’t want to. The pain you’re in has gotten completely in the way of living.

    You’ve withdrawn so far into yourself, you’ve cut yourself off from the world, from the people and things you need to just get by. Killing yourself seems like the only way to end your suffering. You cling to that hope, ignoring the fact that dying will involve unimaginable suffering, because you’re so desperate to stop hurting.

    But consider, if you’re that desperate–to brave death–can you be brave enough to admit you need help to cope with the problems you have? Can you be brave enough to be honest–first and foremost, with yourself, but ultimately–with others, to say you’re in too much pain to think?

    The help you can get will have limits, but you have to be able to ask. Mostly, people will only be able to help you discover what you can do, but you will discover that you can do more than you thought you could, once you start doing things in spite of the pain. Just hold onto what you learned in your darkest moments; you can endure more pain than you are in.

    You are the one to decide, but the only way out of Hell is by going through it. Your pain is the cost of your passage. It’s your burden to carry, and it’s up to you to shoulder enough to grow in strength and endurance, to increase the pace of your progress.
    There’s no need to kill yourself, taking on more than you can handle. There’s no good reason to lie helpless for longer than you need to collect yourself for another attempt.

    You never have to give up on yourself, even if everyone else does. Respect your limits, but don’t be afraid to push them. After all, that’s what your hope has always challenged you to do. The frustration you feel with yourself is simply a reflection of what you truly believe yourself capable of. Don’t be disappointed or mad at yourself. It’s hard to figure things out when you’re not consciously making an effort.

    Above all, don’t cheat yourself by looking for the easy way out. If it looks easy, it will cost you more–in pain and suffering–in the end. Accept that there is a price to pay; it’s part of the value of being you.

    • zumasrevenge says:

      Very true. I used to hate hope for this very reason. The same with people – I hated my friends because they were the ones with the power to hurt me… and invariably it seemed as though all of them did. I hated them, because they gave me hope just to let me down.

      But you can’t have good without bad… can’t have wonderful without horrible. Without all the negatives, everything is just a state of constant neutral. Emotionally, there is nothing so horrible that you can’t survive it. So the only question is, is the wonderful worth it?

      I believe that it is.

      There is a song called the “The State” by a band called Poisonblack that’s refrain is a bit of a mantra for me at times:

      “So, can you see I believe by the blood that I seep
      That it’s worth all the hurt
      And the tears that I desperately weep
      Can you see I believe and no longer grieve
      And it’s worth all the hurt and the fears that I desperately keep”

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