Why I Wanted to Die

I would like to highlight the past tense of “want” (wanted). I wrote this as someone who once experienced suicidal thoughts/attempted suicide and is now looking back, not as someone who is currently struggling.

I’m always apprehensive to write about suicide/suicidal thoughts for a few reasons. For one, I don’t want to worry my mom. I dread the phone call in which her worried and quaking voice squeaks out, “Are you sure you’re ok?” (so don’t worry mom, everything is good!!) And second, suicide is the most massive elephant in the room. What do you say to someone who is having suicidal thoughts? What do you say to someone whose spouse, friend, child, parent (fill in relational blank here) just committed suicide? Suicide, sometimes, feels like it’s a dirty word. It’s the Voldemort of mental illness - that which shall not be named. We allude to it, but never directly name it and in turn, never directly talk about it.

So let’s talk about suicide…

- Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States

- Suicide is the second leading cause of death between ages 10-34

- Suicide rates are highest among American Indian and Alaska native males

- More men than women commit suicide each year

- On average there are 129 suicides per day

- On average 1 person dies every 11 minutes as a result of suicide

- 40% of transgender adults reported making a suicide a attempt

- Firearms account for ~50% of all suicides in the US

I could go on, but I won’t. It’s kind of depressing to sit here and look at the statistics - they’re key to understanding the breadth of suicide, but even with this information, people are left with, “why?” Why did they do it? We try to understand motives and decipher reasoning, but it’s not like you can have a conversation with the person and ask why or “what made them do it”. I’ve talked to a good chunk of my friends who were having/have suicidal thoughts and some of them express that there is not much understanding of the nature behind suicidal thoughts. I know I didn’t even understand the suicidal thoughts that were plaguing me - where did they come from?? So often media portrays suicide as an act in response to bullying or sometimes trauma. While bullying and trauma are two things that contribute to suicide, this narrow focus on those as the only things that cause suicide overshadows big issues that are plaguing others struggling.

When I expressed suicidal thoughts in the past, my parents would always reassure me how loved I was, “Shae, please you have to know, we love you so, so much!” But the thing is, I knew how loved I was. I knew my parents loved me more than just about anything. But because they loved me so much, they hurt so much to see me struggling. So, if I wasn’t in pain anymore, they wouldn’t be either. Also, no matter how much my parents loved me, I couldn’t even like myself. Think of your arch nemesis - the person that grinds your gears, that disgusts you, that bothers you, that drives you absolutely bonkers, that you would NEVER choose to be around… now imagine you have to spend every single second, of every minute, of every single day for your entire life with that person. That’s how I felt. I viewed myself as a burden - not only to others, but also to myself. When I told my parents this after going through recovery, they were confused and heartbroken. Looking back, I see the distorted thoughts, obviously my parents wouldn’t be in less pain if I killed myself, they would suffer 100x more.

But I was also depressed, had an eating disorder, undiagnosed bipolar, living in a city where the sun never shone and rain seemed to never stop pouring. The whole world was bleak and I was hopeless. Obviously, there are all sorts of reasons that people commit suicide… too many reasons. Suicide can result from mental illness, loss, physical illness, trauma, bullying - there is no one reason that people commit suicide.

I was suicidal and I still don’t quite understand it. Most of my understanding is from my journal when I was in the depths of it, because even as I look back at it, I know see the distortions. But if you get one thing out of this, I am so, SO thankful that I didn’t die. In my journal, I wrote an entry called, “10 reasons I don’t deserve to live” In it I listed things ranging from “I am a burden on my family and friends” to “There is too much suffering in this world for there to be reason to stay in it” to “I’ve scarred my body enough, what’s one more?”

I don’t know why I got to live. I’ll be honest, I often feel guilt in living. I can’t think of why I lost friends, and my friend’s families lost their children. It angered me for a while that I lived. Life didn’t feel precious, it felt painful. There were so many reasons I wanted to die. Some of those thoughts still cross my mind from time to time like, “I’m a burden” or, “There is too much pain in the world” But the biggest difference now, is that I can see that death wouldn’t set me free, it would rather take away any opportunity for authentic freedom and healing. I have been incredibly fortunate to have been given the ability to heal. I am now able to seek out reasons I want to live - my family, dogs, friends, the sun, mountains, cute boys, ice cream, brownies (even though I have to eat the gluten free ones), the beach, comedy, writing, books, Jesus, travel, language… I can’t imagine everything I would have missed out on if I hadn’t lived. So I must say, for life, I am truly grateful.

If you or a loved one is struggling with suicidal thoughts please call the Suicide Prevention Life Line at 1-800-273-8255 (open 24/7)

Sources:

https://save.org/about-suicide/suicide-facts/

https://afsp.org/about-suicide/suicide-statistics/

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/statistics/suicide.shtml