Too Alive to Die, too Dead to live.
The guilt of wishing for death when others are begging for life.
Trigger Warning: This piece discusses themes of suicide, mental illness, and intense guilt. Please read with caution and take care of yourself. If you or someone you know is struggling, help is available. You're not alone.
For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to end my life.
I have struggled with finding reasons to be alive.
I have even tried, and failed to put an end to my misery.
I could write an entire book about what life means to me as a mentally ill and chronically suicidal person but right now, I'd like to focus on only one part. The guilt of being alive whilst wanting to die.
I'm relatively healthy, I don't have any debilitating physical illnesses, though some would argue that mental illnesses are just as bad.
I don't have cancer or diabetes, I don't have fibromyalgia or any chronic pain illness.
I'm not struggling financially, my parents are relatively happy together. In fact, my life looks picture perfect.
I'm not going through anything I'd deem “profound”.
Yet, for the longest time, I've wanted to die.
I've wanted to die so bad that I'd take matters into my own hands and try to, you know…
And each time I've survived, I'd be left feeling worse off than when I started. Angry at myself for not being able to do anything right, even something as “simple” as suicide. Frustrated and embarrassed that I'd have to face my friends and family after my “failure” and guilt that I'd had the audacity to attempt to take my own life when there were people who were begging for life.
That guilt would overpower my senses leaving me feeling numb and empty. The guilt of wishing for death when there are people out there wishing for life.
On the one hand, I felt like I didn't deserve to be alive because of my innate wish to die. On the other hand, I felt like I didn't deserve to die because how dare I, an ordinary person choose to take their life. That privilege was for worthy people, people who actually had it tough.
So, where did that leave me? Too useless to be alive and too unworthy to die.
The guilt has been the hardest part for me, anger, frustration and embarrassment I can manage. But guilt? That shit swallows you whole and sucks you dry.
You know when people say that they are in the cold hands of death? Well, I'd like to say that guilt’s hands are more cold and they wrap around my heart with unimaginable strength.
Constantly seeing the living relatives of dead people and guilt's icy claws clench my heart even harder as I feel bad for their dead knowing fully well that they'd trade places with me in an instant. Each grieving face I see makes those frozen fingers squeeze tighter.
In those moments when guilt's grip becomes unbearable, I find myself wishing for suffering and terminal illness - anything to justify my yearning for the underworld, anything to make these glacial hands loosen their hold on my heart.
I know it's wrong to wish for such things, and that knowledge only makes guilt's grasp more merciless. But even as these frozen fingers threaten to shatter my heart completely, it doesn't change the way I feel.
If you’re reading this and you know this feeling—the guilt of wanting to die while everyone around you seems to have a reason to live—I want you to know you're not alone.
I'm right there with you. And I need that to be good enough for you, at least for now. ❤️
Helplines
She Writes Woman
Number: 0800 800 2000
Mentally Aware Nigeria Initiative (MANI)
Numbers: 08091116264, 08111680686
Lagos Suicide Hotlines, by the Lagos State Government
Numbers: 08058820777, 09030000741