I Never Realized How Abnormal My Suicidal Thoughts Were

It's frustrating whenever I hear an adult say something along the lines of "You have to tell others how you feel, only you know what you're thinking." That sounds like something completely unreasonable to be frustrated at, and I'm positive that for most people, the statement rings true. I know that people can't read my thoughts, I know that I have to communicate better if I want help and support. But it's extremely difficult for me to tell someone what I am feeling. And it's not because I have trust issues, it's not because I find it hard to open up to people. In fact, I have no problem telling someone I barely know that my parents are divorced or that I go to therapy biweekly. The reason I can't tell anyone my deeper inner thoughts is that I can't even comprehend them myself.

Sometimes I don't know why I feel what I feel. Take, for example, the time in one of the last few weeks of eighth grade, when summer was just around the corner and I had an embarrassingly pathetic meltdown at lunch time when my friends refused to clean our table. "If one of you doesn't pick up a broom and a washcloth and do what I've been doing for you for the past school year, I will literally kill all of you," I remember saying, my throat tight and my eyes looking down at that disgusting table. Not my finest moment. The point is, even I had no idea why I was so exasperated. The usual train of thought in that situation would've been the underlying cause of my anger-->the current event-->the expression of my anger linked to the current event. In other words, if this were the case for the table cleaning debacle, I would've been mad at my friends for an unrelated reason that I never confronted them on, and I would've taken out my resentment towards them by yelling at them for something minor that I wasn't actually mad at (i.e., them not cleaning the table). But I wasn't even sure why I was so mad at them. I was missing the underlying cause of my anger, which seems to be a pattern of mine in multiple situations with multiple emotions, not just anger. That angsty saying "No one understands me" was quite true for me, because literally no one could understand me, not even myself.

And then one day, out of nowhere, I started doing something that I can't explain the motives behind. After hours of mindless time-wasting on my laptop, I opened up a new tab and typed in the search bar, "How should I kill myself?"

I didn't actually want to commit suicide, at least I think I didn't. At that moment I felt nothing, like I was just playing a computer game or something. Nothing in my brain went off to tell me that this wasn't normal, this wasn't something that a typical teenager would do. So I continued, for longer than I'd like to admit. "Songs about suicide" and "Most painless way to die" were some of my more frequent searches. I know I didn't feel like anything was wrong, but I still felt that I shouldn't tell anyone. My therapist doesn't know. My parents don't know (nor do they know most of my depression). The only person that knows is a friend I haven't even known for a year.

Sadly, I have made similar searches recently, and it wasn't until the other night that I stopped, looked at myself, and questioned everything I had been doing. I wanted to tell someone right then, but who? Most of my friends also have mental health issues, and whenever I tried to discuss mine I had a sense that I was only making them feel worse about themselves. Still, I had waited too long and I was slightly afraid for my own sanity. In a group chat consisting of ten people, I said, "Hey friends does anyone want to talk" (I'm not an quite as articulate when I'm texting).

Almost everyone responded, but two people sent me a private message. One was from a friend who had just moved away and was also dealing with depression, the other from the formentioned friend who knew I went to therapy but, I'm assuming, probably had no idea about the specifics of my mental health. I said different things to each of them, the first I told I hadn't been happy for an extremely long time (which is true). The second I told about my strange suicidal searches. As I typed out what I had just realised had been one of my darker secrets, my hands trembled nervously above the keys. I had made it as clear as I could to him that I don't want to die and I'm not planning on killing myself anytime soon (also true). They were both supportive and heard what I had to say. It was-relieving, I think. I'm not quite sure.

I have suicidal thoughts every day. They aren't as devasting as they used to be, they're just a part of my life now. I don't think I ever will kill myself, but thoughts of hanging myself or overdosing on pills just fill me at the most random times, and I've learned not to be fazed by them anymore. Those thoughts aren't all of me, though. I love listening to music and playing the bass guitar. I'm a pretty decent artist, and painting and digital art are my primay hobbies. I'm a vegetarian that plans on becoming a vegan and I'm very passionate about animal rights and protecting the enviornment. My favorite fish is a longfin anthias. I either want to become a graphic designer or a marine biologist when I grow up, and right now I'm taking the time to analyze which career path I should choose. Whichever one it happens to be, I know I will be happy. I just have to stick it out.

User Comments

It's not just you. I have had suidical ideation since I was seven (that's 45 years). Mostly this involves wishing I had been let to die as a premature infant, wishing not to be, waking up wondering why I am still here, going to sleep praying to just die. I have actually searched out and selected my preferred method and bought things.  As you say, just part of the mental furniture. I have major dperessive disorder and three flavours of anxiety disorder. The one thing I have learned is having someone to whom your life (or death) REALLY REALLY MATTERS makes a difference. It doesn't make the thoughts go away, but it does help you combat them.


I'm 35, and I've had suicidal thoughts on and off for most of my life. I still do, and like you I've come to accept them as a part of life. For what it's worth, I hope that you live a long and enjoyable life despite this burden. 


I've never felt the need to end my own life, but I've felt other urges that I knew I had to resist at the time... and I'm glad I did. I could've made huge problems, not only for me but for my loved ones. I can't compare the magnitude of what I felt to what you feel, but I'm very happy that you seem to have a handle on looking at things constructively. You have my very best wishes for the future.


Feeling suicidal is a natural response to the belief that you are somehow "wrong" for not fitting in in some way. It's hard, but you need to fight that urge. You're being asked to fit into society in an arbitrary way that doesn't fit you as a person; that doesn't make you, or anybody else, "wrong." 


You're not alone. It's easy to tell people to disclose. It's a lot harder to simply -listen- and let them come to you when they're ready. That's where most people fail at being good listeners; they're ready to listen -now- or -in 15 minutes- and they want to schedule your disclosure. It's understandable, but not helpful. It's why people only feel comfortable disclosing to certain individuals. You seem quite positive-minded, overall; I hope you're able to find some sort of resolution :)

You really touched home for me with your story. You really helped me when you said,"That angsty saying "No one understands me" was quite true for me, because literally no one could understand me, not even myself." I feel like there is something wrong with me when i feel that way, I try to tell people I try to explain how im feeling but i cant, and throwing out words to try my best to describe it just makes people misunderstand even more, making me feel that much worse. I truly hope you find your happiness and thank you so much, I really am glad I was able to read your story