User blog:ExdeathsBagel/To Help Someone

List of Crisis Phone lines: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines

A chatroom for people feeling depressed and suicidal: https://www.imalive.org/index.php

Read this if feeling suicidal, it helped me out a bit: https://www.metanoia.org/suicide/

'''What follows below is a little fic I wrote about suicide and depression, it exist only as a way to help me cope with the feelings and help get in touch with them and understand them. If this upsets enough people, I will take it down. I’m sorry if it does. I personally use Christianity themes and references because they bring me comfort, I’m sorry if this upsets anyone.'''

I feel slight breeze on this otherwise warm and pleasant day as I take my walk. I had the next day off from work and would’ve wanted to make the most of it had I not begin to feel the all too familiar creeping feeling. Sometimes it crept, other times it came to my in a sudden wave. However it approached, the results were the same: as sensation of helplessness and a loss of interest in the things I loved. If my being honest though, words hardly do it justice. I struggle to bring words to my depression despite dealing with it for years.

And on days like these, if the creeping or waves were particularly intense, I would contemplate killing myself, as I am now. I’m not taking an ordinary walk around my neighborhood, I’m heading to a particular destination in fact, one I otherwise would always avoid.

The forest I was walking to was called Dullahan Forest, for the obvious reason that the people who come in don’t come out. The local folklore was those who went in were taken by Dullahans to the next life, but everyone knew the folklore only hid the harsh truth paramedics, police, and volunteer workers faced everyday: people went there to kill themselves.

Would I be another one? I’m not too sure to be honest, a part of my just wants to take a walk into the forest, while another part does want me to go through with it. I have the necessary tool after all, a gun to shoot myself, provided of course I go through with it.

If it sounds like I’m uncertain about this you’d be right, suicide is a rash action after all, one done in the heat of the moment. It might seem forever looming while depressed, but that’s what it is, looming. All it takes though is one moment of irrationality driven by a desire to escape the pain that can no longer be coped by other immediate means.

As I step into the forest, it’s as if the sounds of civilization are muted, and are replaced with the sounds of nature. This place seems as tranquil as it is notorious, though I knew that would change the deeper I went. Bodies are stumbled upon weekly in various states of composition, and I contemplated if I would run into one, or even worse, another living person. If it was someone looking to help, though I felt like I was beyond saving, I’d give the usual ‘I’ll turn back soon’ and wait for them to go. They had to go eventually, right? They had lives, people waiting at home, friends, family, pets, and other reasons to live. I felt like I had none, the creeping sensation was burrowing deeper with in me as the idea of suicide became more and more appealing.

But that made me think what I would do if I ran into another suicidal person. What would I do? I don’t think I would be able to handle it, I’d try everything I could to turn them around. I know I said I’d go out of my way to lie to those who’d help me, but I am sincere in that I pray no one feels the way I do.

By some luck I have yet to run into anyone as I wander, and as time melts I wander deeper and deeper into the forest, and I realize that not only was the sun setting, but I have lost my since of direction. Panic sets in, and I feel a faint sense of self preservation, to look for help and get home. But something else overrides it, that irrational sensation that causes me to reach into the pocket holding my gun. I won’t be finding help anytime soon, no, I am alone. I am alone now and will be. What future do I have if I’m doing this? What sort of weakling decides to take their life? I should end it all now, save everyone the grief of any future failures I will have. This is the right decision.

These and other such thoughts swirl in my head like a cacophony. A tempest of self-hatred and despair I had long since been familiar too, feeling this way for years. It comes and goes and I’m sick of it. What good would help do? This isn’t something that would just magically go away with treatment, this is a terminal sickness that I won’t have the strength to fight.

As I pull the gun out of pocket, I hear something behind me, something scuttling. I slowly turn to face it, and in the dimming light, I see an Arachne. We simply stare at each other for a moment, and she is the first to speak.

“Hi.”

A simple greeting, but if I’m honest, having some sort of contact felt relieving for whatever reason. Whether it was the realization that I wasn’t alone in this forest and that she could help me out, or if it was because it put the tempest at ease, I don’t know. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hi.” I reply back. I see her eyes dart to my gun, with is somewhat visible out of my pocket, before darting back to me.

<p class="MsoNormal">“How long have you been feeling this way?” Her voice, much to the assuaging of my fears, is not judgmental in the slightest. If anything, it’s warm, welcoming, and comforting. It’s as if she knows what I’ve been through, but that’s not possible.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Years.” was all I say.

<p class="MsoNormal">Her expression remains calm, and she sits down, well, she sits however an Arachne can. It involves her legs curling into themselves, much like kneeling, but with eight knees. How was that not painful?

<p class="MsoNormal">“You know, I’ve been in that place, maybe not feeling exactly as you do, but trust me, you’re not alone in feeling this way.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“All the more reason to go through with it. One less miserable person in the world.”

<p class="MsoNormal">She pats the ground next to her, “Sit with me. I just want fifteen minutes of your time. We can talk about anything you want, it doesn’t have to be about how you’re feeling.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I give her a quizzical look, “Anything?”

<p class="MsoNormal">She nods, “Anything, just for fifteen minutes.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I shot out the first question a little more harshly than I intended, “Why me? Why are you trying to help me?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Because I’ve felt what you do, in a way. I don’t know your exact situation, but I know a little of what you’re feeling. It’s going to be okay.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“No it won’t. After these fifteen minutes you’ll leave and I’ll continue what I was doing, and even if I don’t, it’ll come back again, it always does.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Suicide and depression are uphill battles, but battles anyone can fight. You don’t have to end up Sisyphus, constantly pushing that boulder uphill only to watch it come down. It’s hard but you can overcome it. Many people have.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I tilt my head, “You study Greek Mythology?”

<p class="MsoNormal">She smiles, “Yeah, love it, granted I only took a few college courses on it, it’s not a profession but rather a hobby. Kind of nerdy I know.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I shrug, “I don’t think its nerdy, heck, I like study it too.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Before I knew we spent the next few minutes just talking about Greek Mythology, and other things. I had come to learn her name was Sam and I gave her my name, Thomas. I was honestly having fun before the feeling came back. The urge to finish what I came here to do. That’s when she noticed something in my other pocket.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s that?” She asked, pointing to my pocket.

<p class="MsoNormal">I pulled it out and much to my surprise, it was my Bible. I had forgotten I brought it to be honest, but I remembered that I wanted to read as a last sense of comfort before taking my own life.

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s a Bible,” I say, holding it out to her.

<p class="MsoNormal">She takes it, but doesn’t open it, instead examining the cover and its width, “Wow, it’s bigger than I expected. You’ve read all this?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Most of it, I’m on the Book of Isaiah right now.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Wow. You know, I’ve been meaning to read this. Not a Christian or anything, but much like Greek Mythology, I want to learn about it, not that I consider the Bible mythology of course. Isn’t it all doom and gloom?”

<p class="MsoNormal">I couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle. “No, not at all. In fact, I think it’s full much more of God’s love than His Wrath like its known for. I’d argue it has just as much love, If not more, than the New Testament. I guess you haven’t read that though?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Nope, but now you’ve peeked my interest. Can you give me a summary?” She says as she hands it back to me.

<p class="MsoNormal">I felt my jaw dropping, “You want me sum this up for you?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Her tone sounded playful, “Yeah, I love history, mythology, heck, just learning in general, and I got start somewhere with this right?”

<p class="MsoNormal">I scoffed and decide to try best to explain it to her, “Okay, so, and I’m sure you’ve heard this somewhere else, in the beginning…”

<p class="MsoNormal">I know by that point more than fifteen minutes passed, heck, at some pint the sun had completely set and we were only lit by the stars and light from her flashlight.

<p class="MsoNormal">“God loves humanity but there are things he doesn’t like people doing. You knowing, lying, killing, adultery are some of the obvious ones everyone agrees on. But then there are some that some people don’t agree on.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Like?” Sam asks inquisitively

<p class="MsoNormal">“Like,” my mind suddenly jumps to the one I always contemplate, and it felt like all the air had been taken out of me, “suicide.”

<p class="MsoNormal">For some reason, I broke down when that happened. I begin sobbing.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I just want the pain to end. I just want to stop letting people down. I want to die so I don’t have to be so afraid about the future anymore. I think God will forgive for that, I think-”

<p class="MsoNormal">Sobs overcome my ability to speak, and I feel the Arachne hug me.

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s okay. You know, after all that you’ve told me, I think He will to, but I don’t think it’s what He’d want you to do. I think He, and everyone else you know, wants you to get help. I want you to get help. In the past hour I’ve come to know you I see you’re a hard working person, and you just need someone to confide in. Someone you can trust. I’ll be that for you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I look up at her with tears running down my face. “Why? How?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Because I don’t want you feel like how I did, no one deserves to feel that way. As for the how, I’m looking for a homestay, and want to know if you’re up for it?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Is this how you normally ask potential homestays?” I ask in a moment of sob ridden lucidity.

<p class="MsoNormal">Sam chuckles and pulls me up to my feet, without another word, she guides me out of the forest.

<p class="MsoNormal">It’s been a few years since that encounter, and we are still living happily together, growing even closer. Granted, off all the things covered by the Interspecies Exchange Bill, therapy wasn’t one of them. Still, with my job, and Sam, reveling herself to be part of the silk trading business (which is pretty common for Arachnes), we were able to make ends meet.

<p class="MsoNormal">Like Sam said, it was an uphill battle, even with therapy. But I had her, and that’s all that mattered to me.

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">It was mid-afternoon when I got a call on my cellphone, I was mid interview with a potential client for my silk when I rang. I muted it without looking, and after checking, I realized it was Thomas. I was puzzled, he normally never called me while I was at work.

<p class="MsoNormal">I tried to call back but was met with voice mail. I sighed, this left me a bit of a problem. Being an Arachne, transportation was kind of tricky, and Thomas had to by a pickup truck to help get me around. It was fun riding around in the back, but was one of my only methods of transportation and I needed to get home. I decided to call a friend, her husband also had a pickup truck and said she’d take me home. We lived close to each other, her house was just a little passed mine.

<p class="MsoNormal">I jumped out as soon as I saw the police car in front of our house, my friend’s car not even completely stopping. I rush up to the officer who was sitting on the steps, he looks up ad gives me a solemn look.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Is he okay?” I try to hide the urgency in my voice.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Is Thomas your homestay?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes. Is he okay?” I ask again a bit harsher than I meant.

<p class="MsoNormal">“He’s in the hospital right now, we’ll take your to him if your able to get there.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I beg my friend to take me, but fortunately she was more than willing to. The hospital was half an hour away but it felt like it was countries apart. Finally there, the officer takes to his room, though impatient with his pace a part of me just wanted to ask where Thomas’ room was so I could find it. The officer said Thomas tried to hang himself, but the rope snapped and he cracked the back of his head open.

<p class="MsoNormal">Once he took me to the room, I open the door and my heart breaks. Thomas had bandages wrapped around his head, a slightly red stain on the back of his head. I move up to him quickly and he turns to me.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m sorry.” he says.

<p class="MsoNormal">“No, I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t notice how you were feeling.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s not your responsibility to constantly look after me, and I didn’t want to burden you with that anymore.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Thomas,” I lean down and hug him, “You aren’t a burden. What you’re feeling isn’t a burden to anyone. I want to help you, your family wants to help you, and your therapist wants to help you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Thomas starts crying, “I know, I’m so sorry.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I comfort him, “It’s okay, I’ll give you as many times as you need. Like God and the Israelites, remember?”

<p class="MsoNormal">He smiles, “Yeah.”

<p class="MsoNormal">I hold him close, “Everything’s going to be okay, this is just an uphill fight, remember? You’ll be fine, you can do this.”