this post was submitted on 17 Jul 2024
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At 27, I’ve settled into a comfortable coexistence with my suicidality. We’ve made peace, or at least a temporary accord negotiated by therapy and medication. It’s still hard sometimes, but not as hard as you might think. What makes it harder is being unable to talk about it freely: the weightiness of the confession, the impossibility of explaining that it both is and isn’t as serious as it sounds. I don’t always want to be alive. Yes, I mean it. No, you shouldn’t be afraid for me. No, I’m not in danger of killing myself right now. Yes, I really mean it.

How do you explain that?

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[–] [email protected] 6 points 3 months ago

After they know my default state, will I be self-conscious? Will I regret it? Will they ever forget it, or will it shadow my every move and our every conversation? Will they become too aware, watch me too closely?

I'm friends with a few recovering alcoholics, and we've had conversations about similar issues. They make a joke about alcohol, which would be normal in most contexts, and now I'm not sure if I can laugh at it. They say they "went out last night", and there's a small, but perceptible change in the conversation because I'm bracing for bad news.

I don't want to have those reactions, but it feels callous to ignore them. I know I'm not my brother's keeper, but I still want good things for my friends.