|Do you see me?|
If you commit suicide, you are not a coward.
You are not selfish.
You are not stupid, fucked up, broken beyond repair.
I know you think you're a piece of shit or whatever shaming name you've adopted for yourself. You're not.
You probably know things will get better. But you also know you can't hang on until that happens.
Listen to me, please: you are awesome, worthwhile, special, unique. I know people say you're not special because they're afraid of narcissism, but I intensely disagree. After all, the very image of God is in you.
I wish you could believe me. I know it's hard to believe, maybe impossible right now.
I've been there. I've held scissors to my wrists and wrapped a wire around my neck and cursed the high railings on bridges, and it still scares me to admit that. You're not alone, in the midst of your depression or anxiety or bipolar disorder or schizophrenia or PTSD or OCD or whatever illness you have that makes you want to stop your life.
You have an illness. Something went wrong in our brains. Might be triggered by guilt or genes or abuse or whatever, but it's not going to be cured by the strength to choose happy thoughts or exorcism or conversion. Cowardice and selfishness and weakness don't cause mental illness, and you are not at fault.
You're not useless. If society says we have no need of you, if society wants to cling to its prejudices to make itself feel better, well, they're wrong and screw their prejudices all the way to the fire.
You're actually incredibly valuable. You demonstrate, every day, your bravery to keep struggling through this pain and suffering many people can't imagine. And illnesses =/= selfishness. (Good heavens, even by thinking of suicide, by agonizing whether you're selfish for staying alive or for dying, you further demonstrate that you're not selfish).
You are strong because you struggle on even when everything and everyone, including yourself, seems to tell you to quit.
You're okay. Your situation, it's not okay, I know. But you're okay. God made you, He loves you, and I love you, too. You're never without love even when you can't feel it.
You're worth life.
Speak up. Tell someone you're in pain. Maybe a counselor. Maybe a friend or family member. Maybe even a stranger (like me or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline). Let them listen and tell them everything. Keep voicing your struggles. Don't lock yourself inside until you implode all over yourself. Really - it's not selfish or cowardly to say I need help.
Remember that your brain is sick and it might just be telling you things that aren't accurate.
And, here's a hug or good wishes if you don't like hugs.
You're okay. And you are loved, friend.
Much love, and take care,