i wanted to text you, but i texted the crisis hotline instead
tw: suicide
when i say it out loud, it sounds kind of irresponsible, doesn't it? i don't know what constitutes a crisis. it makes me wonder what kind of people contact the hotline. are they like the people you see on tv, with fear in their eyes, guns already cocked and nooses already hung? or are they more often like me, with tear-stained cheeks and lifeless eyes, but warm and safe under the covers? in any case, i'm sure there are people in much more urgent crises, so i hope i didn't take up too much time or space with my melancholy.
my side of the conversation went something like this:
i think i’m depressed
my mood changes easily, i don’t find interest in anything anymore, i don’t have much of an appetite, i think about dying often
like today i walked on a bridge over a violent river, and wondered how deep and cold it was. but i don't think i'd actually jump
yes i’m safe right now
no i don’t have any plans to commit suicide, it’s just a thought
sure, a resource would be really helpful
thank you
no, that's all, thank you for listening
in nearly every response, the crisis counselor thanked me for my honesty and openness. at one point, she even said "i know it must not be easy to talk to a stranger", which made me a little sad. she's not wrong, but maybe she doesn't realize that in some ways, it's easier to talk to a stranger. after all, i texted the hotline because i don’t want to burden a friend.
i haven't been able to write these past few months. it’s simply too difficult. it's been impossible to find the perfect words to express my sorrow and pain and guilt, so i chose to ignore it. escaping is easier in the short run, but i know it's not sustainable. i'm so volatile, i could burst into tears at any moment. i'm not ready to go to therapy, so i've been looking at the resources provided by the crisis counselor and they're pretty useful.
i think the only reason i was able to write this at all was because i started writing with no intention of showing anyone. having finished, i decided to post this as an exercise in vulnerability. (also because i’m wretched and dramatic, and there’s a naive little part of me that hopes maybe if i publish these words, someone somewhere will see them and, in turn, see me.)