THERAPY SESSIONS: HEY SIYA, FRI’s BACK
DEAR SIYA, Hi, I’m suicidal. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t show up for months, and the first time I communicate with you, my first sentence is extremely alarming. But I am, and as my therapist (because I still pay the bills obvi), I thought you would like to have this information. I can’t remember, really remember, exactly how it came to be. I can remember sadness compounded. I can remember feeling a very deep tiredness in my early teenage years, and just simply, the feeling of wanting to die. I almost tried once. I was on my balcony ( then I was dumb enough to think that jumping down from there would actually kill me), and I just stared down at the ground, and kept imagining myself there, broken and bloodied. Dead, but never really at peace. But dead at least. I didn’t do it. I’m ashamed to say that it had nothing to do with wanting to stay alive, and everything to do with the fact that I thought it would be an ugly way to die. But I guess I should be grateful to my vanity? Idk....