The Day I Wanted to Kill Myself

The day I wanted to kill myself was a Tuesday in October. I lay in bed holding a box of sleeping pills in one hand and a knife in the other. On my table next to the bed rested a pair of scissors and a rope that I had spent hours untangling. My eyes were fixed at the fan. The room was dark with all lights turned off;

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Thoughts from a Therapy Session

“Okay, I’m here. It’s fucking 7 a.m. in the morning and I am here. This O.P.D. is so crowded even with an hour for the counter to open. Makes you wonder how many people deal with mental illnesses without even knowing what exactly they are dealing with. Okay, mom you sit here and I’ll hold our place in the line.

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Sorry, Not Sorry.

When I was clinically diagnosed for the first time in 2016, I did it all—the medicines, the hospital visits, the breakdowns and panics—without my family. All on my own. I was scared for my life which is very ironic given that I didn’t really care for my life at that point. But somehow, through college distractions, doctor-prescribed pills, and sleepless nights, I made it through. I got better and I was mute about it especially to my family because I didn’t want to worry them.

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Mental Illness is not a Choice

I don’t remember having a conversation with my creator and picking out qualities and behaviours from a choice of many. I don’t remember asking for a mind that overthinks and a heart that feels too much. For all I know, I was born with it. Or maybe I picked them along the way—with my experiences in the world. All I know today, is that I am an empath with a mind that overthinks even the slightest of things and a heart that overflows with every emotion presented to it.

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The Opposite of Depression is not Happiness

I receive a text from an old acquaintance in another country asking me how I am doing. Since I have taken an oath to always talk honestly about my illness, and he is someone who knows I struggle with it, I tell him, “I have been depressed past couple of months. I took a sabbatical from work and everything just seems hopeless.” He sends me the rolling eye emoji and thus begins an uninvited rant. In the middle of be positives and why do you think like this, he says, “You have to learn how to live happily.” And I lose it.

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