Just BREATHE…

in…

out…

in…

out…

don’t think, just breathe…

in…

out…

don’t ask where your are…

in…

out…

in…

out…

Is that a table?  Whose table? Why am I laying…

…[cough]

…[cough]

Just BREATHE…

in…

out…

in…

out…

I don’t know how long I laid there, under that kitchen table, consciously breathing each breath and willing my heart to keep beating.  To this day, I don’t know how I got under that table or what I took to put me in such a state.  In fact, I don’t even know whose table it was, all I know for sure is that I am lucky to be alive and I never want to go back.  Few people genuinely know what it is to stare into deaths eyes and see her macabre face grinning back at you.  You’d expect her to be gruesome and grotesque, but all too often she is lovely and inviting.  For those of us with suicidal tendencies, it is a hard thing to turn our back on death and tell her to go fuck herself.

…but the thing that so many others cannot understand is that sometimes being suicidal and actually wanting to die are two different things.  Thinking the world would be better off without you, or thinking that the future is so bleak that a quick end may be the best course is NOT the same as having a death-wish.  When faced with death I chose to live and fought with all my will to just breathe.  I think all too often that is the case for those of us who are severely depressed; it takes all of our will to just keep breathing, and then comes all of life’s other demands.  Negative thoughts can be like quicksand; the more you struggle to get free of them the faster you sink.

…and the harder it gets to just breathe.