‘This is going to be tough on you guys but this is my decision. You have to make peace with it once I’m gone. I know you will be rather troubled by why I did this. That is exactly why I’m writing this letter…’
This is how I started my suicide letter for my parents and I knew my decision was going to break them, but I wanted them to know why.
‘You’ve seen my board marks. I won’t get a seat in any of the good colleges. You know that I’m a hard-working student and that my marks have dipped only recently. The reason for that is a boy. I know I could never discuss this matter with you. You would blame me more than him and then the taunts would follow. But what he did to me was unfair and it has broken my spirit.
“He was my boyfriend and I trusted him. I know it’s wrong to be thinking I’ve fallen in love at the age of 17 but that is what it was for me. I could do anything for him and I have lied to you guys because of him. But one day, after the tuition class, he asked me to visit his house. I knew you would never give me permission for it but I went with him anyway.
Fidgeting with the pen and the countless thoughts in my teenage head, I’d written this letter after a lot of contemplation. There was no way out of the pain I went through and the judgement I got for it. I could not focus on my academics and my parents were too strict to understand any of it. Or so I thought.
Before writing the letter, I had searched extensively on how I could end my life. Google can really throw some ideas at you with that question. But I wanted it to be quick. Rat poison was not reliable, hanging myself from the ceiling fan meant the fan could fall.
Slashing my wrist seemed like the best option.
I was able to find step by step instructions about how to cut your wrist on various sites. It seemed tough, technical and too painful but I had made up my mind. I found myself a blade and prepared myself for the end.
“I just can’t handle it anymore. I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve given me and I’m so ashamed for letting you down. Sorry mummy, papa. This is probably for the best.
This was 3 years ago.
I wrote this letter and went to spend some last moments with my family. When I wasn’t in my room, my mom came in and found the letter by my bedside.
She sat me down and started crying.
She did not scold me like I thought she would. In fact, she said we’ll fix everything. That incident taught me that nothing is the end of the world. No reason is big enough to end one’s life.
Has it been easy? No.
Do I still have bad days? Yes.
What keeps me going then?
Well, I still have extremely dark days where I can’t get out of bed and I feel a bone-deep exhaustion that I can’t shake off. I cry and at times, I don’t even know why. I regret things and make myself feel low. But it’s on these days that I tell myself that I can’t stop fighting.
I’ve had to fight a lot and it wasn’t easy. But after all this time of fighting, I refuse to take the easy way and give up. Of course, my family is the reason I am not giving up just yet.
But more than that, I’ve decided to give myself a chance because I deserve it.
Even on my worst days when I don’t feel like getting out of bed and just making a sandwich seems like an achievement, I deserve to keep fighting. And hence, I’m not giving up on you just yet.
Charles Bukowski was absolutely right when he said, ‘It’s been a beautiful fight. Still is.’
If anyone out there feels lonely or has negative thoughts, always remember you can talk it out. If you’re not comfortable sharing it with friends and family, log on here and talk it out.
If you want to call someone, you can get in touch with a crisis intervention center, Aasra, at 022 2754 6669.