Since I was a child, society has made leaps in the fight for equality and inclusivity, but despite this, one topic that remains heavily misunderstood is mental health, especially regarding suicide. Though we have made large strides in bringing awareness to and incorporating mental health practices into everyday life, many people don't fully understand how it feels to be suicidal or how to support someone who struggles with suicidal ideation.
Most rhetoric that I see relegates suicide to an impulsive choice someone makes after a traumatic event, or something youth and teens struggle with but grow out of as their hormones balance out in adulthood. The truth is that those who are lucky to survive their trauma or the hardships of youth are often left feeling lost for years to come. I spent most of my high school and young adult life grappling with borderline personality disorder, self-harm, and suicidal ideation, and have even attempted to take my life on three occasions. 2019-2020 were the darkest years of my life, and the fact that I’m here to write this essay is no short of a miracle. Since then, I was able to successfully restart my life, get the help that I needed, and return to college to get my bachelor’s degree, but though I’m proud of myself for making it this far, it doesn’t negate the fact that those mental struggles remain.
Now that I’m 27 and have gotten my life back on track according to society’s standards, I no longer have a justifiable reason to be suicidal. On the outside, people see a redemption arc, but every morning I’m making an active choice to live. This is an important distinction that I feel our society fails to understand. People can grow and persevere over their demons, but the fight is never truly over. The problem with depression and suicidal ideation, especially when everything is seemingly fine, is that people who don’t have these struggles can only comprehend it when there is a traceable issue with a clear solution. I’ve seen long-term relationships end because of someone’s ongoing depression and suicidal ideation, despite their consistent efforts to overcome it. In my experience, people are sympathetic and offer help in the short term, but when the symptoms of mental struggles prolong or are seen as redundant, people tend to distance themselves. This is especially true when people exhibit symptoms that are beyond their romanticized idea of mental illness. People are often sympathetic to those who exhibit symptoms like excessive crying or isolation, but when it comes to taboo topics like self-harm or hyper-sexuality, people are quick to distance themselves or take advantage.
I’ve long made my peace with the fact that self-harm and suicide will always be an option for me, but something I find more important is that even if this is true, I am making an active effort to not choose it. It has been seven years since I’ve attempted suicide, and I haven’t self-harmed since December 2020. Who I was then would never have thought that I’d make it to my senior year of college, become an advocate for mental health, or would be set to fulfill my dream of studying abroad to Japan this September. To choose life is to choose struggles, but by doing so I’m also choosing infinite possibilities to experience love, joy, and wonder. Most of all, I’m choosing to believe in my own strength to persevere against the darkness, and that’s something I’ll always be proud of myself for doing.