In 2018 a popular musician, known as Avicii, killed himself. At that time I too was suicidal.
I was so envious.
He'd achieved that sweet release that I had both craved, and fought against daily.
I wanted to not exist so badly, and yet Avicii's death actually opened the door to my staying alive. I chose to think that I had taken my own life on the same day as him, and each day I would reflect on what I would have missed had that been so.
At first it didn't feel as if I had missed anything, but then, day by day, I noticed and tallied a hug from my children, a sunny day outside, the smell of dinner cooking, the sound of laughter. Tiny moments in the scheme of things, yet I was thankful for them.
Most days I began to see more tiny pleasures, and they helped to push away the darkness that had enveloped me. I no longer wanted to die. This virtuous spiral began to grow, assisted by improved medication, and weekly therapy.
The third anniversary of Avicii's death was a few days ago. I paused to reflect when I saw a news article about him the other day. I've stayed alive despite everything just over 3 years!
I also felt a profound sadness for Avicii, he may have got the peace he wanted, but now the price of that peace seems to me to be too high to pay.
I didn't know three years ago that I would start to recover, even a year ago it was looking very shaky, I so very nearly took my own life. There is so much I would have missed.
A Moodscope member.
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