I never envisioned today. I knew the sun would rise, even if it was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds. I anticipated the familiar buzz of bees outside my window and the cheerful chirps of birds greeting a new morning. I expected my kids to wake up with their bright eyes and open hearts, racing into the living room, calling out for me. But I didn’t foresee being here. I didn’t wish to be here, nor did I plan for it, because I believed I wouldn’t see another day. Yet, here I am, three weeks post-suicide contemplation, having genuinely wished for my own end.
Describing the aftermath of a suicide attempt is difficult. It’s challenging to navigate life after such an experience, awakening to a new reality. My last encounter with death wasn’t as severe as previous attempts; I had a plan, but I never acted on it. I didn’t take the pills. Still, I was mentally prepared for my heart to cease beating. Now, it’s a struggle to regain my footing when I spent months feeling as though I was floating in a void. Finding joy in the small things is tough when, just weeks ago, nothing seemed to matter.
I am certainly not alone in this struggle. In the United States, over 45,000 individuals die by suicide annually, and for every death, there are 25 attempts. This means that more than a million people have awoken like I did — feeling uncertain and lost, unable to move forward. Suicide ranks as the tenth leading cause of death in the U.S., an ever-growing concern, particularly among youth. A 2018 study highlighted an alarming increase in suicidal thoughts among young people, especially girls. The reality is that suicide claims more lives than liver disease, cirrhosis, and liver cancer combined. It’s a statistic that demands attention.
The silver lining is that, despite everything, I am alive. I am waking, walking, and engaging in life. Medically, I’m stable. The pills are gone, and the alcohol I once craved is no longer part of my life. I never ended up in a hospital, and my children never found me in a dire state, as I had feared. My heart continues to beat. I should feel grateful, and I do. But the truth is, I’m still grappling with day-to-day tasks. Simple activities like showering feel monumental. Mustering the energy to eat is a struggle. Being fully present with my children? I’m not there yet.
I lie awake, exhausted and unable to find rest. I feel isolated, yet the noise of life surrounds me. I ache in ways that words can’t capture. My body is tense and weary. I long for a comforting hug, yet I scream inwardly for solitude. I battle feelings of unworthiness and confusion. Nothing seems to make sense because I’m alive when I felt I shouldn’t be. Depression clouded my judgment, convincing me I didn’t want to live.
Yet, I am tackling each day as it comes, little by little. I exercise every morning to invigorate my body and remind myself of my existence. I hold my children close, cherishing their warmth. “This is a gift,” I tell myself. “I’m grateful for today.” I attend therapy weekly and see my psychiatrist a couple of times a month, pushing through the discomfort. I tackle mundane tasks even when I resist because I know healing exists on the other side. After all, it’s only been three weeks—just 23 days. I’ll find my way, and you can too.
If you or someone you know needs support, there are resources available. For more information, you can visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline or the Crisis Text Line.
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In summary, life after a suicide attempt can be an overwhelming journey filled with struggles and small victories alike. It’s a process of rediscovering joy, seeking help, and taking each day one step at a time.