“Don’t you think it’s kind of sad how I try to keep myself alive for my friends and family, when they’re one of the reasons why I don’t want to be alive in the first place.”
Today someone asked me a question that many, including me, have asked before.
There are days when I love my family to the bones. And days when I just want to strangle some of them. Every family has their own CRAZY, because a dysfunctional family is a family with more than one person in it.
I was in a foreign country when I was first diagnosed with a mental health condition. I stopped talking to my family for more than a month. I was angry at them for not believing me for all those years when I kept saying I didn’t feel normal and I was suicidal. I deleted all of them from my phonebook and swore never to go back home.
But when I did have to go home, the first person who greeted me at the door was my mom. With tears in her eyes she hugged me tight and said “I’m sorry, anak” over and over. For a week, she stayed with me in the darkness of my room, listening to me cry like a baby. What followed was a year of intentional communication, forgiveness and acceptance.
Today, my family is my strongest social support. Whenever I feel the desire to die, I ran to my mom. Whenever I feel the world is against me, I ran to my brothers. Whenever I feel intense loneliness, I ran to my sisters. Whenever I need a hug, I ran to my nephews and nieces.
Sometimes the best decision you can do to save your life is not to RAN AWAY from your family, but to RUN TOWARDS them.
Sometimes.
VIOLETOLOGY 