The thought of making others concerned that I might hurt myself doesn’t remove the ideation, it just makes it worse. I end up hating myself for having these thoughts and guilty that I’d put anyone through that, which in turn perpetuates the idea that death would be a better solution. All of this spirals endlessly like a scratched record stuck on repeating a part of a song, it continues until smacking the record player to skip past the scratch. In my case that smack comes in the form of interruptions or even an eye opening flick to my forehead and saying “snap out of it, keep it up and you’ll end up in the psych ward which will be far more devastating to others.”

Shaking sense into myself is not much different than kicking that skipping record player. It’s not the stereo’s fault there’s a skip, it’s the record itself that is damaged. Neither action fixes the actual problem. It only skips past the scratch so that the music will continue. Once that song plays again the scratch will still be there.

What I’m trying to convey is this. When in the midst of suicidal ideation, the thought of confiding in anyone feels mortifying. The idea of pulling others down into my world makes me feel worse, which then makes me not want to live even more. The thought of no longer existing can seem like a better alternative. I know that is not true and my own coping mechanisms reel me back in.

TBC