To you, who’s struggling to keep yourself alive.

(More than) a month of depression, severed ties, stress, and loss, I was ready to give in, to end things once and for all.

Almost.

I laughed hardest whenever I was outside, but I slept my days away, waiting for something I didn’t even know. I was always surrounded by people, but I was alone in a sense that I felt disconnected with everyone I know. Talking about it didn’t help at all – I only heard prejudice and malice, when all I wanted was someone who’d listen.

I wanted to hush the voices in my head, to stop my mind from having more thoughts, and to escape from my own reality.

It was just too hard. I was exhausted, even with more than 12 hours of sleep. I’d wake up and force myself to survive another day, even if my very existence didn’t make sense at all.

The day I lost my dog, Jerry – the only living thing I clung onto while I was at my lowest – I was already suicidal. I couldn’t find any meaning in living – it was all for naught for me.

But I couldn’t do it, not when I thought of those I was leaving behind. So, I decided to try to live another day, for the sake of the people who’d be devastated if I were to end my life.

After I posted about it, I felt a sense of relief and hope. I was relieved because I was able to let it all out, and I was hoping someone who’s going through the same ordeal would find solace in my words. That he/she may be alone in his/her battle and suicide might look like the only option, but know that it’s not the answer.

There is help. There is hope. And it comes in comforting messages, tight hugs, a pat on the back, a simple greeting, medication perhaps, and even in silent company – where no words are necessary and mere presence is enough.

It gets better – this is what I’m sure of.

It hurts everyday, but it will hurt a little less as time goes by. Life doesn’t mean anything, unless we find it ourselves. And its meaning doesn’t come in grand gestures or life-changing moments – it comes in the smallest of things, like how the sun rises everyday, or how our hair makes us look effortlessly good, or how good we are at handling a certain task.

It hurts, I know. Let it hurt until you’re ready. Take a deep breath.

It will get better. Dying isn’t the answer.

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