This seems to be my life in a nutshell now.
I guess for as long as I can remember, I've always had these kind of dark thoughts about my own worthlessness, or how I wish I didn't have to face the world every day, or just felt like I didn't deserve to be alive. Every negative experience down the road had only served to validate these thoughts; Being unpopular at school, physically abusive teachers, getting cheated on by the one person in the world I felt I could open up to, it all just kept piling up. If I ever had the temerity to voice my concerns or how I was being affected by this anguish, I was just dismissed as being lazy, immature or melodramatic.
It sucks that even during the happier years of my life, I had these suicidal urges. They always felt so natural to me that I wasn't even aware that this was attributed to a mental illness. Only a couple of years ago did I come to realize that I might be suffering from depression, and only recently have I been told that I have an anxiety disorder on top of that. While I have found comfort in understanding the root of my problems, I'm also burdened with the stigma that comes with it, which in turn helps fuel those suicidal urges.
I have made some semblance of peace with what I'm going through. I see these suicidal thoughts for what they are, and as such, I have an easier time dealing with them. They'll always crop up in my mind from time to time, though, and I am still vulnerable and prone to being overwhelmed by them. And if people try to avoid me because of it, or complain that expressing these feelings are too burdensome for them, then screw'em. I'm done hiding it.www.patreon.com/garth_squair