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I don& #39;t really know who& #39;s gonna care about or read this thread, but I feel like I need to get this out there.
Okay, so...
Okay, so...
Throughout most of my life, I always feel like I was worthless. It boggles my mind too, I know, that a man who lost so much weight and gained a nice hobby would hate himself like this. Yet constantly I always look myself in the mirror and ask “what’s the point?”
I always hated my appearance, always hated the way I act in front of people, and always blamed myself for losing friends and loved ones. Every waking moment, that I feel alone, is when I always felt like I don’t deserve happiness. That nobody/nothing will care if I die.
And then I went to the hospital.
I suffered a heart attack after I returned from my Christmas vacation. I remember trembling in pain, my whole body twitching in pain as I clenched my chest hoping for relief. I remember being afraid of the pain, afraid what comes next.
I suffered a heart attack after I returned from my Christmas vacation. I remember trembling in pain, my whole body twitching in pain as I clenched my chest hoping for relief. I remember being afraid of the pain, afraid what comes next.
I remember my mom crying and worrying about me as she sat by me, not knowing what to do. I also remember the endless waiting, of five minutes of which felt like hours
And to think, after all the talk of suicide, that I’d be incredibly terrified in the face of death.
And to think, after all the talk of suicide, that I’d be incredibly terrified in the face of death.
Now normally this tweet would be me learning my lesson. I mean, I& #39;m healthy and still almost died. But it’s more of slow process than a sudden revelation. Even today, I still question my worth in this life. But one thing I must learn is something more painful: I was right.
Maybe not a lot of people would care if I die. Nothing will change if I die, nor will there be a big memorial dedicated to me. If I die, I& #39;ll just wither away without a second thought. No fanfare, no trumpets. Just peace.
You see, our lives is just a particle of water within a whole sea, constantly crashing against itself, losing and gaining. That particle of water can only be as important as how we make it; life will inevitably end and we make it as important as we want it to be.
I still have a lot to learn, however. Some days I cry, some days I don’t. Some days I’m grateful I lived but oftentimes not so much. But what’s important is that I’m still here, and that God gave me a second chance to figure it out.
