You Cannot Be Replaced

Today is the last day of National Suicide Prevention Week. I’ve been trying to figure out what–if anything–to post for this week. After all, as many of you know, I’ve somehow lived through enough suicide attempts and ideations to fill several books.

Here’s the truth: Life really sucks. It does. Life is hard. Really. I’m not going to sugarcoat it or deny the truth, because then every thought that follows will be following a lie and, by default, be a lie.

But you can make it through. You can. Really. I’m not going to sugarcoat it or deny the truth, because then every thought that follows will be following a lie and, by default, be a lie.

What most people don’t understand is that every day is a war and that every morning we get out of bed is a battle won and every time we smile is a battle won and every hour that we’re alive is a battle won.

I’ve dealt with depression and manic depression (bipolar) for at least half of my life. I’ve only been medicated for a very short period within that time. I know what it’s like to want to die. I know what it’s like to not want to wake up in the morning. I know what it’s like to be literally seconds from death by my own hands–more than once.

And I lived through it.

I don’t know how I’ve lived through it, but I have. And I know you can live through it, too.

There aren’t many things I can tell you to make you want to live.

I can tell you that tomorrow isn’t going to be magically better just because you decide today that you’ll keep living. I can tell you that it’s going to be a long, rough road to recovery. I can tell you that depression has no cure, but only treatment. I can tell you that it usually takes a long time to find the right treatment–and it usually comes with side effects.

But I can also tell you that you need to keep trying. I can tell you that you need to keep living.

You need to keep living. You need to live for the people around you. Even if you think no one cares, remember that you have parents, friends, co workers, aunts and uncles, cousins, siblings, that-one-stranger-that-you-seem-to-keep-seeing-everywhere. There are people who care. And even if you think there isn’t anyone who cares, you’re still wrong. I care.

Yes, I care. Even if you’re a complete stranger who somehow tripped and fell face-first into this blog. I care about people. I especially care about people who are plagued with mental disorders. I am always open to talking with anyone about said disorders–or to talking anyone down from a bridge, or from pulling the trigger, or from driving head-first into a semi.

If you have no friends to talk to, no pastor to turn to, no parents to convince, and you feel like there’s no one else to call, call on me. Message me on this blog, email me at sjr2010[at]gmail.com, find me on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr. If you don’t even think you can talk to me, call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at  1-800-273-8255.

You are worth it.

You cannot be replaced.

Live to breathe another day.

Fight the war that is this life.