I know, this is a very critical topic to talk about anywhere. But since I have made a promise at the beginning of my journey on this blog to be honest, I will not have any taboos…
The idea of ending one’s life has been with human kind for very long time. I believe according to some historians with modern human kind history dates back to 510 B.C. What is then the point of life? Why do we cherish it so much that we are very afraid on it to be lost, especially ours?
At a certain very early point in life, I was constantly asking myself the same question: What is the point of all of this? Why don’t I just don’t wake up in the morning? I do not want to go on because I really, honestly, with all transparency lost that will to step out of my bed every day and go on with my day. I was thirteen. I did not want anymore to put a smile and just pretend that everything is Okay.
My home remedy for this was delusional circumstantial scenarios which I created, lived and relived within my mind which all started with a beautiful happy beginning and ended up with a dramatic finale where I ended up crying myself to sleep. Over the years, I mastered the scenarios, the actors, the architecture, the lovers, partners and friends I had, the words. I mastered the whole module. This evolved from being in my mind, to being acted out when I was alone at home (which was several hours in the day). I wanted to run away from my reality. I wanted nothing to do with it. I had a parallel reality for myself to thrive in, to be happy in, to survive. At a certain point I promised myself to have happy endings only which eventually became boring and went back to the old module.
This did not stop me many times of asking myself the same questions: What am I doing here? When will this even stop? Is there an ending to this situation? I saw no way out of my misery. Looking back at how I lived, I cannot still say I have been a lucky boy because others had it worse. What I can say is that, yes indeed, others had/have it worst that I did, but this was/is my capacity of bearing things. In the recent years, I have seen a physiatrist whom I have spoken to about this technique of defense mechanism, he said: I am very happy you had that because otherwise we would not be sitting here today.
Simultaneously, as I was passing through all of this, I was looking for a faith, a doctrine, a religion to believe in as my family was a secular one. I tried all faiths and religions that were available in my city (Islam and Christianity). I was more inclined to Christianity as it had a better marketing scheme. I prayed every night for Jesus Christ to help save me and take my hand and lead me towards him out of this world… But that didn’t work either!
Over the years, these feelings faded away bit by bit all by themselves. I believe as I moved from high school to university the bullying stopped. I started working. I started carefully making contact with the outer world; making some form or shape of primitive friendships (very little in quantity and at some points quality). I learned the hard way to fall in love with the wrong people, misjudge others, have faith in the wrong ones and misplacing my trust in some. For that, looking at myself growing and evolving, I think I can be proud of myself that in spite of my history I still had the courage to do that!
Every now and then, I would still hear here and there the bullying name calling trademarks I had in high school. It gave me cold sweat every now and then but then I realized I live in such a small city and some of those students joined the same university I did… In any case, that did not hinder my progress but I took my precautions.
In the near past, I have found myself asking myself the same questions as I did nineteen years ago. For some reason I have lost my answers which I had back then or the answers changed as I entered a new phase of my life.
One thing is for certain, I do not have the answer for the question: Why do we live? What I do know, is that we live. We are here and now. And we are bound to the people who we meet in this life. It can get hard, extremely hard. It can get impossible. It can get to a phase where we do not see a way out anymore but by ending our own life. It can get to a phase where nothing, and I mean nothing can honestly put a smile on our face.
The only thing I can say is that it is our choice to get ourselves out of it. It is up to us to surrender to all these feelings, states and phases or stand with what is left of us, either fight it on our own or seek help from someone who will be willing to listen to us, suggest techniques to tackle our problems and help us slowly to get fully on our feat. This, is a choice, a choice worth taking. And once I have taken that choice so many years ago to live, I have liberated myself from the thought itself even though sometimes it bounces back. I have given myself the space and time to allow it to exist, to live and evolve and I have given myself the antidote for it the choice and willingness to stand up, ask for help and continue living.