Thursday, January 10, 2013

An Open Letter To My Suicidal Self


Recently picked by Campus Pride as one of the Top 10 Leaders in Action (http://www.campuspride.org/5678/2013-voice-action-award-top-10-leaders-in-action/),  Mark was inspired to write this open letter in the hopes that it may help someone else and remind everyone that it does get better.

Dear Mark,

     Our thoughts are powerful—the mind is a mighty weapon and like any weapon, can be dangerous in the wrong ‘hands’.

     You were fourteen (a freshman in high school when you realized you were not straight) and had just experienced the traumatic loss of your half brother Kamal who had been murdered in the start of the New Year.

     You were fifteen when you finally decided you wanted to come out of the “closet” to your mother through a text message.

     You were fifteen when the thought of killing yourself first came to mind.

     You wrote a long letter for your family and friends to read once you were gone. You ran the shower and took a razor from the medicine cabinet, and made a few phone calls saying “goodbye” to some of your friends, and cried your eyes out. At the time someone you did not expect to care, convinced you not to kill yourself.

     As I think about our life around that time, a lot of it is a haze. We were grieving the loss of our brother and of the person we thought we were. We were grieving the loss of the mother we knew, our relationship changed drastically once she became sick and we came out as a gay man. Remember that?

     The decision not to go through with the plan to end your life actually changed my life forever. At that point you had made a decision that would alter the course of my life moving forward—you had decided that your life was worth living and you were going to live it fully, fearlessly, and without restraint. Back then there was no “It Gets Better” campaign or discussion around bullying the way there is  today. Back then you couldn’t go to Youtube and hear political leaders, celebrities, and others telling you that your life was worth living—you only had the small little voice inside that whispered to you, “keep going Mark”.

     In the last couple of years, I have followed through with the decision you made to live life fully, fearlessly, and without restraint. I have been vocal about my beliefs, with my work as an activist and student leader, and I have been transparent about going to therapy. I have shared the best moments of my life, the awards, recognition, and milestones reached, the happier times.

     Well a lot has happened recently and for the first time I want to talk to you about it. I want to show you that your decision not to kill yourself gave way to a lot of great things. I am not fifteen anymore but this past summer, late July-early August, I felt like you did almost seven years ago,  as the suicidal ideations began to overpower me.

     I had forgotten how you felt back then, when those thoughts kept running across your mind…when you kept thinking this was your way out. I guess in some ways I took my happiness for granted, I had forgotten what it was like to feel isolated and alone, what it felt like when I couldn’t fit in. I know you felt like an outcast a lot of the time growing up, somehow being disabled and not fitting in had a negative impact on you. But not in the long haul, you see that impact led me to where I am today, taking my disability and allowing it to shape my life in a major way.

     But I guess behind the Facebook updates, tweets, and smile was a small piece of you. That fourteen year old who just wanted to be like everyone else, wanted to be accepted and understood by your peers, loved, and respected.

     I had just turned 21 and almost two months later had found myself drowning my sorrows in alcohol. An entire bottle of white wine, nine shots of Bacardi, two shots of vodka, and whatever else I laid my hands on. I wanted so badly to fit in that I did what I thought I had to do in order to do so, next thing I knew I was being sent to the hospital. I had blacked out and vomited all over the place, the cleaning ladies thought I was dead and the backlash from this experience changed me. I had to see the disappointment in the eyes of those I cared about the most, I had to lose opportunities like the resident assistant position, get suspended from one of my jobs, and endure the challenges that would stem from my summer job.

     You are probably wondering what the hell made me drink that night. Well the truth is that I had been dealing with a lot and did my best to bottle it all up—I was dealing with family issues, stress of work, and the loss of people who I never imagined my life without. I was surrounded by people who clearly didn’t like me very much and wanted so badly to “fit in” that I lost sight of who I really was.

     Since June I still feel like I am recovering from the incident, that I am still rising out of the debris that surrounded me after my world began to unravel before my very eyes. It was almost the end of my summer job and one evening after an altercation with some of my co-workers, the thoughts came about. Like a movie, my mind kept flashing scenes of how I could end my life, our life, on rewind.

     Do you know what got me through those ideations and what stopped me from going forward? You did. I remembered how strong you were not to go through with it, how you were able to press on and look how well you did. I know that if you could do it, that I could do it too. I told myself that if my fifteen-year-old self could see the light in the shadows that I could too. 

     So I cried and closed my eyes tight and kept trying to think of a time when I was my happiest. It helped me. I got through the night unharmed. But much like depression or situation in life, it is a constant struggle to wake up in the morning and feel happy. No, I am not ungrateful for my life or the opportunities I have been given and no I am not unrealistic, I know it is impossible to be happy all the time BUT I had to struggle to get out of bed in order to work towards that happiness.

     Now I wake up and tell myself I am lucky to be alive and that whatever life throws my way, I am capable of handling it and that I am not alone, I have you, my survivor. When most people think of suicide, they think about the way it was done and what led to that moment. Rarely do people discuss those who are constantly bombarded by the ideations and the struggle that comes from having to convince oneself that suicide isn’t the solution.

     So I guess I wanted to write this letter to thank you, thank you for leading by example. For not giving up on us and for being able to see the future in such a way that you knew it would be worth sticking around for. Thank you for reminding me that my life is filled with wonder and that I can’t walk away from it.

     I wrote this letter so others may read it and know that they are not alone in their thoughts and that those thoughts don’t need to dictate their actions.
There is help out there. There are people who are willing and ready to help you. There are others who like you feel this way from time to time, you are not alone. Life does get better, this all gets better.

Thanks for reminding me of this Mark.

Best wishes,

Your older and more fabulous self!

Places You Can Go To Get Help for You or a Friend:

Trevor Project

It Gets Better Project

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Contact your school or university’s wellness center for help.

Go speak to an adult you trust.

You can also email Mark at markedblogs@gmail.com if you ever need someone to reach out to.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!