Content Warnings: Depression; Suicidal thoughts
To those reading or listening,
I sometimes wish I could die. I don’t want to die—genuinely, I don’t. Not now, not when I have something to live for, many things to live for. But I still dream about death, or at least an idealized version of it. I think of dying, of escaping this world, moving through the veil into the realm beyond life’s reach. I yearn for a world where my emotions don’t control me, my mind doesn’t poison me, and I don’t hide myself behind a stupid mask. I want to be free, and I don’t think I can truly be free in the world of the living. Maybe that’s why I idealize the realm of the dead, because I see myself being free.
There are days when I feel like I can’t breathe. I live behind so many masks I don’t know who I am anymore. Especially these days, the masks blend in, melting together as I step through the fire. Even my masks fail me now, and I don’t know what to do. Sure, I have so much to live for, and I genuinely do have happy moments, but I feel like a caged bird. I feel like if nothing else will set me free, maybe death will? I can’t even stop these thoughts from entering my mind, corrupting me. I don’t want to die. I have so much to live for. But that doesn’t stop the thoughts, does it?
I hope that one day, I can guard my mind against itself. I pray that one day, I can control my emotions, so they don’t rule me. I believe that one day, I can be free, and I won’t have to hide myself behind any mask. That one day, I can find out for myself who I really am, and only live that truth. I genuinely wish for such a day to come, and to arrive quickly because I don’t want to die; I yearn for freedom.
