Tonight, I came across an article shared on my feed about the suicide of a KPop star. TBH, I don’t know this person. But his last words are quite heartbreaking. Let me paste here:
“I am broken from the inside. Depression, which was eating me away, has devoured me in the end, and I could not beat it. I hated myself. I held on to my broken memories and shouted at myself to pull it together, but there was no answer. I asked who could take care of me. Only you. I was utterly alone. (Ending one’s life) is easier said than done. Which is why I’ve stayed alive until now. (You) said I wanted to run away. Right. I wanted to run away. From me. From you. I asked who’s there. Said it’s me. Again, said it’s me. And again said it’s me. I asked why I kept losing memories. I was told it’s because of my personality. Right. So, in the end, it’s all my fault. I wanted you to notice, but no one knew. Of course you don’t know that I even exist since you never met me. I asked, why do you live? No reason. No reason. Everyone lives for no reason. If you ask me why I died, I’ll say I was tired. I was haunted and agonized. I never learned how to turn endless pain into joy. Pain is just pain. You scolded me not to do it. Why? Why can’t I even end (my life) the way I want to? You told me to find out why I am sick. I know it too well. I am sick because of myself. It’s all my fault and it’s because I am worthless. Doctor, is this what you wanted to hear? No. I did nothing wrong. I thought it was easy to be a doctor when you blamed my personality with that sweet voice of yours. It’s amazing how I am so sick to this point. People who are more troubled than me keep on living. People who are weaker than me keep on living. That’s not true. There is no one alive who is more troubled and weaker than I am. But you told me to keep on living. I asked hundreds of times why, and it wasn’t for me. It was for you. I wanted to live for me. Please stop saying stupidities. Find out why I’m troubled? I told you many times why I’m troubled. That’s not enough to trouble me this much? Do I need a more specific drama? More stories? I told you already. Are you sure you weren’t half-listening? What you can overcome doesn’t leave a scar. I was not fit to face the world. I wasn’t meant to be known to the world. That’s why I was troubled. Because I faced the world and was known. Why did I choose this way. It’s funny. It’s hard to believe that I’ve held out until now. What more can you say. Just tell me I did a good job. That I’ve done well enough. Tell me I worked hard. You might not be able to smile, but don’t blame me when you send me away. Good job. You really worked hard. Bye.” -Jonghyun
Before I talk about depression, I just want to say I have always been appalled by how people thoughtlessly throw offensive words to others when they are hurt or when their ego is threatened. I’m saying this not only because I have seen the comments on this article (there are far worse comments on a political article) but also because I have experienced it myself.
A couple of years ago I received hateful comments from some trolls online. That was during the time I was still establishing my travel blog. There were three people in particular who left unfavorable remarks on my physical appearance and on my ability to write. This year, I got over-the-belt, I’d say, undeserved “words” from a person I thought I cared for a lot. If you read some of my blogs, may be you’d know what I am talking about.
I realized people can be mental and mad. Some aren’t just equipped to handle their frustrations or pain or emotions in general so they take them out to people to the point of being hostile.
It is not easy to look past the hurtful remarks but we can try, right? We can be mature people – adults who discuss our feelings. We can talk about the root cause of our frustration, our anger, our sulking, our bitterness so the concerned person would better understand. And would know what to do. It is only fair to them and to ourselves. If we really want to resolve issues, we should communicate and articulate our feelings.
In the case of depression, I know some people would be quick to comment “lack of religion” into it. And others who read this would utter flare up and comment back “depression is an illness and the individual who suffer from it should be treated”.
While I am, in no way, an expert in spirituality nor in psychiatry, I would say I affirm these statements as true: (1) religion doesn’t necessarily save a person from depression nor from committing suicide (2) depression is an illness that requires treatment and change of lifestyle.
If religion saves a person from ending his or her life, how about the suicide bombers who do things in the name of their sacred religion? How about Judas the apostle? If religion saves you from depression, how come a lot of devoutly religious suffer the same severity of a depression?
You might ask, what then saves you from this life-threatening illness? I am afraid I cannot give you a concrete answer. I can only speak for myself.
Yes. I too have suffered from depression. And I am a full-fledged Christian who goes to Church every Sunday since I was young. Looking back, I couldn’t really trace the cause of my breakdown. But I am sure of what I felt: It was my darkest days. I felt alone even when I was around people. I felt unloved even when the support and affection was pouring. I felt useless amidst accomplishments. I hurt myself physically. I hated my life. I thought of ending it many times. I wanted so badly to not wake up the next day because I felt the pain was just too much.
Again, for what reason? A breakup? A death of a loved one? Neither. I wasn’t depressed when my father died. I was in grief. I wasn’t depressed when my ex dumped me. My ego was shattered. But my intense self-hate occurred even when everything in my life was going well.
What kept me from committing suicide
I couldn’t and I know in my heart I cannot commit suicide (as much as I wanted to) because of my faith. I believe that God created me and that if I take my life I’d go to hell. I don’t want to go to hell. To me, what I felt when I was depressed was vehemently tormenting but I believe hell is far worse.
And because I knew suicide couldn’t be an option, I needed to resort to anti-depressants, tons of exercise, emotional support from my sister, earnest prayers asking God to give me something to hold on to~
Now, I’m past the self-hate, but I remain vulnerable. So whenever I feel the world around me is crumbling down and I have self-doubt, I pray to my God. I hug my son. I write. I blog. I go to the gym. I listen to my Spotify playlist. I sleep longer. I eat salad. I reach out to the right people. I try to be grateful.
What can keep you from committing suicide?
I cannot impose on you. I cannot tell you this is wrong. Don’t do it. But I will still tell you to not do it.
Don’t kill yourself. No matter how insignificant you may feel right now, you matter.
Do not end your life yet. There are people who genuinely care about you. At least, allow them to show you they truly care. Let them help.
What a week!!! Or maybe I should say WHAT A YEAR!
If John Green has Katherines, I have Stunners!
Stunner 1 told me something I didn’t deserve to hear.
Stunner 2 thought I engage in unusual #$%^&*^ – wait am I seriously writing about this?
It’s almost 6 pm and I can’t wait to see my mom. I could really make use of a hug later. I wish I had the strength to finish this month. Help me Lord.
Many times have I attempted to remove all our photos, but I just couldn’t… There is a rush of unwanted emotions every time I’m about to delete… We were a happy couple… Once we were inseparable.
If you truly believe you aren’t “worth caring for”, remember:
you can be fragile,
that’s falsely hated,
when driven past the edge—
you can be damaged,
unhappy with yourself—
you can be you
and feel lacking,
you can be
all things worse
and still be
Here’s a story about this place: I left Yodoyabashi early in the morning and hopped on a train to Kobe. I was pretty confident I’d figure out how to get to the Mosaic quite easily. The goal was to capture the amazing view of Kobe Port Tower. The covert intent, however, was to meet an ex-love. I knew it was foolish—I knew it wasn’t gonna end up well—but I idiotically went ahead. I thought hey if it would give me answers, it might be worth it. Alas, I left Mosaic in vain. None of my plans worked out. None of my questions were answered. I went back to Osaka hurting but I was fully convinced it was about time I moved on. Fast forward to now, I have no regrets. What I experienced that fateful winter just proved that in a twisted yet effective way, pain cures.
I told you that was my goodbye.
I’m freeing myself from all the remains of contradicting fantasies.
You said you will never forget what I did.
And that you will never forgive~
I chose not to tell you I’m flattered.
In your hatred,
In your antipathy,
It seems you will always remember me.
We do things
sometimes because we hope
the good karma of love
would side us,
and reward our self-sacrifice.
“I fucking hate you
I hate you
I hate you with a passion
You are an idiot a fucking idiot!!!!
You are worthless
You are an idiot…you are an idiot!!!!!!!!!
Disgusting…you were nothing to me. You are a dummy… You are a slut, a whore. I have no respect for you. You were only going to be a vacation girlfriend that I would have fucked once then ditched afterwards.”
Appalled, she sat there in silence.
And took all the affliction in.
She’d be healed.
One day, she won’t remember.
What does it mean to live when one cannot live to love?