To Be Happy

Trigger warning: suicide

I laid in bed, waiting for my alarm to go off, dreading leaving the comfort of my bed. Well, comfort is a strong word for it. I was never really comfortable. It’s more like less discomfort.

It finally rang and I slowly pulled the covers off of myself, put my feet on the floor and stood up.

At this point, breakfast never even crossed my mind anymore. It’s not like I was ever hungry anymore. I was smart enough to force myself to eat one square meal a day, at least.

I pulled out a t-shirt and jeans from a pile on the chair in the corner of my room. I should fold those. I doubted I would get to it. 

After brushing my teeth, I packed my bag and headed out of the apartment. I took a breath as I sat in the driver’s seat of my objectively shitty car.

A moment later, I drove out of the driveway, turning on music.

Just think about something else. The presentation you have next week. Your mom visiting for Thanksgiving…

Instead my brain urged me to jerk the wheel to the right. 

I couldn’t help but imagine the car flipped, completely wrecked. And me… 

Well, it probably wouldn’t kill me, it would just hurt… a lot. Where would I be then huh? Still trapped in this fucked up life in this fucked up world and now in physical pain! Great!

I sighed and continued my drive to work.

Work was as tedious as usual. I was probably overqualified for the position. Maybe not on paper, but it seemed like it wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

Coding used to be my escape, the one thing I could control. I knew how to change pieces of code to create the desired result and it was refreshing for a long time.

Then I got this job. It felt like a chore now. I hoped it was the job, not just me. I didn’t want to lose the thing that used to save me.

On my break, I ran into Penny. Not to be rude, but...

Right on cue, she said, unprompted, “Not to be rude, but why do you always dress like that? Don’t you want to look good in what you wear?”

“I mean yeah, but-”

She cut me off,“Just do it girl, you can pull it off.”

I laughed bitterly.

She tilted her head at me. 

Before she could ask, Mr. Warner walked through the breakroom. He snapped, “Get to it. I’m not paying you to slack off.”

I sighed and went back to my desk.

Soon enough I was back in bed. I didn’t have anything to work on. It was easy enough to finish everything at work. Again, overqualified.

You’re such a coward.

It came out of nowhere, but it wouldn’t leave my mind.

You can’t fix your god damn life but you’re too scared to end it. You don’t deserve to be alive. 

Stop.

You shouldn’t have been born. You’re useless. No. More than that; you’re a burden. Why should the people around you have to deal with your shit.

Please.

Tears streamed down the sides of my face, into my ears.

“Ugh..” I dried my ears, “Can’t even fucking cry right.”

I sobbed harder.

Finally it stopped. Now there was nothing, just numbness.

I fell asleep soon after.

As I awoke in the middle of the night, something felt off, but I was certain for once.

I got out of bed and put on pants and shoes. I left my apartment and walked down the hall, opening the door to the staircase.

I struggled up the steps, my body feeling heavy, my mind heavier.

I remembered standing on my father’s feet, dancing around the living room. I remembered my mother cradling me as we floated in the pool. I remembered getting all dressed up with Sam to go to my first concert. I remembered Lola holding my thumb in her tiny hand.

Every step was another memory. 

Tears streamed down my face by the time I reached the roof. Nevertheless, I slowly opened the door. I would’ve expected myself to hesitate, but I didn’t. 

I was sure.

And yet…

When I sat down on the ledge and looked out across the city, I couldn’t help but imagine the possibility, the potential.

Only one possibility mattered to me; the only thing that I ever wanted in this life: to be happy.

That feels a bit ambitious, I’d settled for okay. Hell, I’d settle for mildly shitty. It’d be a vast improvement.

Why did you have to do this to me? I asked myself.

For once, she was quiet. She had no sharp retort, no degrading comment, nothing. The demon in my head was finally silent. 

I imagined it as the serpent in Eden, but if it constantly tormented Eve, day and night, until she ate the apple.

My proverbial apple is… I laughed as I looked down at the street below. 

It suddenly became hard to breathe.

Long way down. Probably wouldn’t hurt for long. Or you’d get “lucky” and survive and live the rest of your life even more miserably.

Alright, cool. Thanks for that.

The spell of certainty finally broken, I thought: Is this really what I want? \

There’s no coming back from this. No take-backs. 

And if things changed? If I could get better? If I decided too soon? Would I even be able to regret it?

What about them? How would they feel?

This seems like a bad time to follow this advice, but I have to do some things for myself. I can’t live my life in service of other people.

But that’s basically what I did. I couldn’t live for myself, so I lived for them, because they wanted me to. 

But that’s too unstable. Just a temporary fix. I always had to find my drive, my will to live. I just never did.

My flip flop slipped off, interrupting my thoughts.

I watched it fall and fall and fall.

Taking a deep breath, I made up my mind “I can’t do this.”