I barely lived through my second suicide attempt. Know this. It was not an act geared toward anybody who loved me. it certainly was not me taking the "easy way out" or refusing to be "brave" enough to go on. It was about me being too tired to fight the darkness anymore. Survivors, yes, they hurt and they are broken. But let us not speak of them as if they are survivors of an act perpetrated against them, but rather survivors of the same darkness that sadly takes their loved one. There is a point, and I have been there, where a person is not deciding. It is, rather, like walking forward down a narrow gorge with the canyon walls rising straight above you. The only possible way is forward. For people standing on top of the canyon wall to judge a person for moving in the only direction they can see is cold and unfeeling. Those people are cowards who would force their loved one to walk forever through darkness because they fear the darkness of losing them.
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