Found After Being Lost Forever

Sun was about to come up, five men in uniform were around the body, one of them was capturing photos of that lifeless corpse. The dead looked different, broken bones, blood all around him. HE LOOKS HORRIBLE! THE DEAD LOOKS HORRIBLE! I LOOK HORRIBLE......!

How do I know where to begin? I suffered a state of depression some time back when I was involved in an emotionally draining and toxic relationship, while at the same time trying to complete a law degree. However, the relationship eventually ended and I completed my law degree. In all these difficult years, I felt so low, confused, lost and did not know which way to turn. There were times when I felt suicidal either in public; with friends or alone I felt dissociated all the time, with every breath I took. I had thought of ways; a number of ways of killing myself, playing it through my mind like a little picture-show. I thought of how it would look and how all those I was acquainted with would respond to it. Those considerations really terrified me at the time. I became alcoholic, had insomnia, anorexia, and experienced a ten-pound weight loss. I became aloof, stopped visiting the only person I felt like could help me, my childhood friend who was busy in his life, a successful lawyer: a good son, husband and father. He was everything I have always wanted to be, at least someone was living that life, someone was happy unlike me. My family can’t help. They don’t know how and I don’t blame them in the slightest. But they don’t understand what it must be like living in my head. They still treat me as if I should just get on with it! All through my life when someone committed suicide, the people left behind keep saying, ‘why didn’t he ask for help’. Why didn’t they say there was something wrong?  I started planning my suicide because that was the only way out, for me at least killing myself was the only way out of the pain I was going through. I planned to jump off the bridge, but had to “get drunk” because “I didn’t have the guts” [to kill myself]. I viewed death as a “relief.”

One night, finally, I gathered all the strength, I couldn’t feel anything. I tried to feel sad for the ones I was leaving behind; my family and my only friend, but I couldn’t feel anything. Finally, I reached my destination. I smiled and without even having a second thought I jumped and everything got dark. It felt like the blood moon was on the rise.

It has been 48 straight hours and no one even noticed my absence. I was staring at the comatose (unconscious) me, the dead me! Hoping and thinking to find the relief for which I longed for, but is there any relief or is it just a lie? I can’t make sense of anything now, I am so afraid of the dead me, I couldn’t bear to have a closer look. Finally, after two days, I saw police approaching the dead me, I have been found after being lost forever.

Two days dead and I am unable to find the relief I yearned for. The only hope for me was being dead but what now when I am dead, what next? Two days and I am even more restless than I was while breathing. Two days dead and I know that suicide is not the answer. I would never like to go through the same experience again but if I do, I will always have to believe that no matter how bad things seem they will always get better. Help was out there, help was out there, I was not alone but I chose to be alone, forever alone.