You know that feeling when your soul is an empty  abyss of nothing, and each and every movement seems pointless?

It’s awful. Walking beneath the Earth of blues and greens, and just wishing you could sink beneath the underbrush and become nothing is what wanting to die feels like. You ask how do I know. I know.

I know because I have felt it. Breathed it. Waking up in each day with no feeling of purpose, and going to bed weeping was a cycle I wanted so badly to break. I just wanted freedom. Freedom from feeling shitty about myself all hours of the day. Freedom from not having good enough grades and never measuring up. Freedom from being the fault of everything when I so clearly caused my family pain. Freedom from the future and what it held. Freedom from wondering if I would always have to live my life having food be the enemy. Just freedom.

I felt freedom when I lay in slumber for 7 hours a night, and then felt chained behind bars when the buzzer awoke me reminding me that I had to walk through school hallways yet another day. Having to fake a smile and laugh loudly at jokes that weren’t really funny to give people the impression that I was a happy teenager with no worries.

It was helpful in the moment, but when I was left alone with my whole self, the darkness took over like a black night sky with absolutely no stars to trace.

Sleeping forever sounded lovely in the disastrous state of mind I was trapped in. But how? I asked myself. Well at the time there was only one answer. I ran out of options and this was the last one. The last option that would be the end of me and my existence. No more pain. No more suffering. Just cold and gone…..

The attempt was a dud. A blessing in disguise. Yet, there was really no disguise behind it. Living was truly a blessing. There is so much one misses when wanting to die seems like the only way out, the only gateway to finally be free. What I didn’t realize was that I could be free and live this life.