Sometimes, when it’s nighttime and you have nothing to occupy your time, you get these dark thoughts. They rise from deep within your mind, unbidden, and you don’t know how to handle them. You don’t know where they’re from or how they came to being in the first place, but you know you have them and don’t know how to get rid of them. Because they shouldn’t be there. They have no reason to be there. They are too dark for you, too dark for anyone. They are unnecessary and unwanted and unneeded, and you just want them to go away. What is so terrible in your life to warrant them anyway? Nothing. You have had a good life, and you have a bright future ahead of you. You have friends and family and loved ones, and you know you’re precious to all of them. You don’t have depression or anything like that, and besides, these thoughts don’t even rise up on the days that were particularly terrible. No, they rise up when you’re even the slightest bit melancholy, and yet they don’t when you’re actually feeling terrible. They don’t make sense, and you just want to stop thinking them. How many times do you have to wish that they’ll go away until they do?
Because you shouldn’t be wondering what it would be like to stop. To stop getting out of bed in the morning and just lie there and stare at the ceiling and wonder what you’re doing in life and cry brokenly. To stop trying so hard in school. To stop making an effort to be social all the time. To stop eating. To stop resisting. To stop everything.
And then you wonder what it would be like to start. To start letting the dark thoughts conquer you. To start acting on those thoughts. To start looking for a small silver blade that you can hide easily. To start holding that blade in your hand and testing its sharpness on your finger. To try sliding that blade across the skin of your upper thigh (where no one will ever see). To experiment with how much pressure you should apply to get the depth that you want. To start harming yourself. To start harming your loved ones around you (regardless of whether or not they know). To start doing the unthinkable. To start letting your blood flow from your skin willingly.
And then you pause because your thoughts are now too dark. How dare you think of harming yourself? You’re okay. You honestly are. You don’t need to harm yourself. You don’t need to harm those around you by harming yourself. You don’t need to scar your skin. You don’t need to do this. You are happy. You are living a happy life. You have no reason to do this. So you slowly begin to put those thoughts away. You crush them into pieces as much as you can and shove them away into a box. You lock the box and hide it as far away in your mind as possible. You know that won’t actually do anything, that those thoughts won’t just disappear.
But that’s the best that you can do, so that’s what you do. And then you hope that you won’t get these dark thoughts ever again (a futile hope, but an existent hope nonetheless). And that’s that. You stop punishing yourself (for now) and try to have more of a presence with your friends (because you’re with them right now, and just, what are you doing?).
And they are here, and you want to be with them and involved with them and as happy as them. Because they’re happy, right? And oh my goodness, so are you. So stop.
Be happy. Live.
And don’t you dare ever act on those dark thoughts. Because no one ever should. And don’t think further either. Because no one ever should. No one should ever get even a little close to dying from brokenness. And I’m not broken. I’m not.