Hello, friends.
This week is Suicide Prevention Week. I thought, seeing as the week is slowly drawing to a close, I should remind everyone what this week is about. Mental illness is a big thing happening around the world right now, but it isn't just a modern-day problem. Depression, anxiety, and other issues have been going on for as long as the fall of man.
I, myself, have dealt with depression and anxiety. While I cannot say I ever dealt with or struggled with suicide, it is still an issue very near to my heart, something I am passionate about. I want everyone to know there is more to them than the pain and that there is so much more life has to offer. Life is frustrating, I know. But please, read this story and think about all that could lie ahead. Know that I care about you. I love you. You are a person capable of amazing things. And if this story touches you in some way, please leave a comment or message me using the contact form. I would love to hear from you. I am here for you.
The house is quiet. All I hear is the sound of the wind brushing past my window. Everyone went down to the ocean, to let the last of summer sunshine fade into the wisps of Autumn rain. I sit here alone. I begged to stay home today as they all left.
The pain in my chest burrows deep, deeper than it ever has. I let the anxiety consume me, let the tendrils of depression slowly creep back into my mind. I become what I hide from everyone else when I am alone.
Three years is a long time to suffer this pain. It’s an uphill battle I no longer want to fight. The sunlight streams through the bathroom window, reflecting off the blade of the knife I hold in my hand. It creates a rainbow on the floor, and I pause to look.
A knock startles me. Someone returned home early. I say nothing.
Another knock. More silence. Then finally, “Elli?”
I exhale slowly, silently. My best friend, Asher. He sounds worried. I stand. One more look at his face, one more goodbye. I can’t leave him without one. I sit the knife on the edge of the sink, where he won’t see it from the door. He shouldn’t worry. I’m ending the pain.
I open the door. I know tears trail down my cheeks. He looks scared. “When they said you chose to stay at home, I figured I’d better check on you.”
He’s out of breath, his cheeks flushed. He ran all the way here. For me. I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. “I’m fine.”
It’s a bitter lie on my tongue, and he sees right through me. “Elli, I know you’re hurting. Please, come with me to the ocean.”
I sniffle, shaking my head. “I need to be alone.”
I go to close the door, but he holds it open with his arm, pushing past me into the bathroom. He sees the knife on the counter but says nothing. He doesn’t have to. The pain in his eyes is enough to make me want to fall to my knees.
He takes a seat with his back against the tub, just as I was moments before. I sigh. He looks up at me. “You can be alone with me. But I won’t let you be alone.”
I close the door, leaning against it. He stares straight across, at the knife. I look to my feet, shame swallowing me. I’m not proud of what I have to do, but I can’t let myself go on like this. The pain returns, harder, stronger. Crashing against me like a wave from the ocean, but unlike the ocean, I cannot surface. I fall to the floor, sobbing with every emotion I have left inside.
I feel arms around me, and I’m sobbing into Asher’s shoulder, leaving it a mess. I let myself pretend, only for a moment, that he can make it better. That I can get better.
But three years is a long time to feel this way. And I’m tired of the pain.
I pull away, Asher’s shirt soaked with tears. I stand, grabbing a towel from the rack near the sink. My eyes stop on the knife. I’m turned around, Asher forcing me to face him. I can’t meet his eyes, so I hand him the towel. “I’m sorry,” I say, my words cracked, broken like me.
“Sorry for having feelings and being a human? What is there to be sorry for? Don’t you know how amazing you are? Instead, you stay in here, wanting to take that knife and plunge it somewhere it doesn’t belong, drawing the blood that flows through your veins for a reason. You have a reason for being here, Elli. Why must you do this to yourself?”
The tears form again. I try to take a step back, but his hands are on my shoulders, gently holding me in place. Despite every cold, sick, twisted emotion inside me, his warmth is something I want to flee, yet I can’t find the means to do so.
I sigh. “I can’t do this anymore, Asher. It’s too heavy.”
“What is ?”
“All the burden that weighs on me. Three years, I’ve been this way. Three years is a long time and I can’t be fixed. I’m broken.”
“Yes, you are broken. So am I. So is everyone else in this world. We are fallen people, sinful and dangerous. We all have burdens that push us down, but we rise above it all, we control our lives.”
I shake my head, another sob threatening to break me. “You don’t understand,” I say, more tears spilling down my cheeks. He moves his hands up to brush them away. “Then help me understand. Let me in.”
He leans in slowly as if asking permission for the one thing I never let myself feel, never let myself believe could happen. I don’t move, letting myself have the one thing I dreamt could be true.
His lips brushed mine softly, everything else fading around us. The knife on the counter, the wind at the window, the ocean beyond, all fading to darkness as everything became about us. I leaned into him, his hands trailing down my arms, to my waist. My hands land on his shoulders as the kiss deepens.
We pull away at the same time, breathless. His forehead is against mine, his cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. I’m sure mine look the same.
“Elliot May Carter,” he says my full name like it’s the last words he’ll speak to me. Maybe they are.
“Please,” he continues. “Please stay.”
Beyond the pain in my chest that seems to creep into my soul, there is a light. A small flicker, like a fire, but waning. Asher knows of my pain. He has for as long as he’s known me. And he’s never once judged me for it. He’s held me when I’ve cried, comforted me when no one else could.
“Don’t stay for me,” he says. “Stay for all the things you have ahead of you, beyond this moment, beyond the pain. There is so much more ahead. I’ll be here to help you, but you have to do it for yourself.”
His words, they touch something within me. A spark that warms the cold, lights up the dark. No, I’m still not okay. I may never be okay. But I see I can’t leave. There’s too much ahead. I have to try.
“My love,” he says, kissing my cheek, kissing where the tears are drying up. “Stay.”
Suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255
Please, reach out to someone if you or someone you know needs help.
You are loved so, so much.
You have potential. You have a mark to leave on this world. You are amazing and so, so talented. You may not think it now, but I know it.
You may be thinking, "How? You don't know me."
You're right.
I don't know you.
But I know every single person on this earth has a special gift, a talent. You are a wildfire, ready to set the world on fire and show them what you were made for.
