“Hush little baby, Dont you cry, Dont cut your arms, Dont say goodbye. Put down that razor, Put down that light, It maybe hard but, You’ll win this fight.”
― Emily Giffin
Ok so a very, very dark topic for a first post, but it is something I have wanted to get off my mind for quite a while now. I find myself sitting down and thinking about it more and more in these most recent days, no, not doing it myself. Just the act in general, I have a passion for finding out what makes a person tick, what makes them who they are and what pushes them to such lengths that they would willingly give up their own life to be free.
I wish, I truly do, that on one hand I could count all of the people I have found out are suicidal, self harm on a regular bases or my friends I have stopped from leaving this world. Sadly i’d need more than three separate hands to count them all up, even then I am probably missing a few.
Two weeks ago was a big one for me, a great friend of mine, for reasons unknown and for reasons I will most likely never know, came to me in hysterics, Skyping me from America, he held a knife vertical to his wrist, “I can’t do it anymore.” Was the first thing he had said to me.
I had no idea what to do, dealing with things like this had never been natural, but I knew if i freaked out he would as well. So by gathering up all my courage, I talked him out of it, he put the knife back in the kitchen and went to bed.
No one wants to die, no matter how hard they wish they were dead. No one wishes to be hurt or to hurt themselves, even if they believe they deserve it.
Young girl from my school, shitty home life, uses the razor to get rid of the pain. An eye for an eye I guess. I can’t stop her, but I can be there for her, each time she cries or needs someone to listen to her, at least I can do that. You don’t force the razor away, you help them lower it and then, throw it away.