I think about my dad every single day. I have for almost 10 years now. I'm sure anyone who loses a parent does; but rather than remember him for who he was, my time is spent irrationally wondering if I'd been a "better" daughter if he'd still be here even though I was a child. I wonder about the mental head-space he was in; if he finally felt peace or regret as he bled out; if he thought about his children; if he thought about God and thought he was going to heaven as he felt himself slipping away.
Recently though, I just marvel at how much pain he must've been in to do it so violently. About a year ago, I relapsed and tried to self-harm the way I used to and could barely break skin. For some reason, my brain would literally not allow me to do it anymore, and I was almost amazed that I'd ever been able to do it. It was really weird, considering I have so many still visible, angry-looking scars on my arm and chest- that I'm sure all needed stitches- that are years old. With that in mind, he must have been pretty goddamned determined to die to slit his own throat. My own attempts to OD on aspirin are almost a joke compared to that.
As for me, I'd already been hospitalized before and been on meds a few years before it happened, but it was like the final levee had broken. As depressed as I'd been, I strangely never considered suicide an option before then. It's become something so casual, so matter-of-fact, as normal a possibility to consider as what to eat for breakfast. And sure, there's a strong chance I would've eventually gotten to that place anyway without the additional trauma, but whenever I even consider recovery the same thoughts stop me: why bother even trying to have a life if I could off myself in a few decades anyway? Why not cut out all that unnecessary suffering? How dare I even consider myself worthy of love and connection when I'm so fundamentally broken, and will more than likely pass this curse down myself?
At times, absolute anger for the person who brought me into this world by choice; who was supposed to be by my side and show me how to navigate the world; who promised to be by my mom's side for life, will consume me. But then, as a depressed human being, I empathize with another depressed human being. A human being who I'm sure still loved their family, but whose suffering was so immense that they could no longer go through the motions. A human being whose time spent wishing for better days outweighed the time spent actually living in them. A human being who, technically, doesn't owe another human being their existence. Then I'll realize I was staring at the wall for 2 hours.
And so it goes: infinite contradictory cycles of hate, anguish, anger, understanding, and eventual dissociation. Rinse and repeat every day for the rest of your life.
I don't mean for this to sound like I'm judging or shaming you in any way, because I promise you I'm not. For one, it would be really hypocritical of me- especially since I currently have a bottle of SN in my room just in case. My heart just really breaks for you and the catch-22 you're in. There's no black-and-white here- someone will suffer no matter what you choose. Is it bad? Yes and no. Your suffering would be over- and I understand how horrible it is to exist in this half-death we're all in on this forum- but I guarantee that you'll pass it on to your kids. They'll wonder why they weren't enough for you to stay, even though they'll know rationally that they had nothing to do with it. They'll have to remind themselves that every single time. Every happy memory in their lives will have a bitter side attached to it, knowing that you're not there to share it when you could be. They'll have to accept somehow that they'll never see you again and never get to truly know you as a person.
It's your choice, and I'm so fucking sorry that it's a choice you even have to make. But it's a choice that will have consequences for decades. Of course, I'm not suggesting you don't know that, just pointing out that my experience may end up being be their experience too. Please exhaust every single option you have before you go- and if you decide still to ctb, please give your kids as much closure as you possibly can. Personally, I would kill for a letter or to just hear his voice. The only closure I can get now is what I create by leaving letters at his grave.
I hope you find peace, whatever you decide.
