What is it like to be suicidal?

 From the 5/14/2021 newsletter

Perspective/Opinion

 

 

What is it like to be suicidal?  

 

 

By an anonymous medical student

 

 

A medical student shares their personal journey with suicidal thoughts …

 

 

To me, being suicidal is a physical place in my mind. I’ve boarded the wrong train, or maybe it’s the right train going in the wrong direction. It’s a vast transit system: all the stops are underground so I can’t see where the train is going, and the doors are locked so I can’t get off. In addition, my vision is too blurry to read the map posted on the door.  

 

As I ride to The Wrong Place, I only know that’s the destination if I pay close attention to myself. There are telltale signs: my hobbies become boring or arduous, my favorite foods taste like saliva, and I avoid eye contact with the mirror. 

 

As another stop goes by, my arms and ankles become heavy—too heavy to lift. Taking a shower sounds like a luxury that I simply do not deserve. I do not have the energy to hurt myself at this point... until the train reaches its next stop. 

 

This next stop is at the most dangerous neighborhood I can imagine. Here, I have the will to get out of bed, say my goodbyes, and seek out my demise. At this point, one of two things will happen. I either tell a friend my plans (you know, so they aren’t surprised; it’s common courtesy really), or I call my mom. Every single time so far, someone, somehow, has listened to my spiel about why I should leave this world. The person I am speaking to invariably disagrees with me, and I can feel the train slowing down. Slowly, I can sense how absurd the idea sounds as I hear my own voice speak this strange manifesto. 

As I am connecting with this other human, their logic and compassion towards me overpower the force of self-destruction. The train finally stops, the doors unlock, and my vision clears. I choose to walk onto the platform and take the stairs back up to ground level, where the rest of my life is waiting. I am existentially exhausted, having both won and lost an argument that put my life at stake. 

 

Personally, I find the feelings of suicidality are always temporary. They fade away, and I am left to live with myself, knowing that some part of me tried to delete all parts of me. But I am not afraid for the next time I head to The Wrong Place. At this point, I know all the stops and the symptoms that accompany them. I can usually get off the train before I end up at the I-don’t-deserve-to-shower part of the journey. I can’t exactly put that on my resume but, hey, I can still be proud of myself.  

 

It's a skill in self-awareness to know when you’re in trouble and when to get help. When I am faced with an internal struggle, seeking out a third party gives me a perspective I can’t generate on my own. There are wonderfully compassionate people—counselors, therapists—who have dedicated their careers to helping people get un-stuck when they feel stuck. They have given me tools that I can always carry with me; their expertise has been distilled to a few tips and tricks that work for me to navigate stressful situations and life changes. I encourage you to seek inside yourself the will to live, the love of those around you, and most daringly, the point at which to be vulnerable and seek help; for me, it was the most difficult and most rewarding thing I have ever learned. 

 

 

 

Author’s note: After much deliberation, and due to the current climate of resident medical education, this piece will be published anonymously. Special thanks to my campus colleagues for being such an open and supportive community.