To be Better

"...I try to remind myself when I feel great and infinite, that there will be another terrible week coming someday, so I should store up as many great details as I can, to hold on to during those terrible moments..."

It seems that no matter how many great details I store up of every single moment that made me feel like it was the only thing to live for at that time, the dark places I use to call 'home' has a way of making me forget all of that in a second.

For the past three weeks I've gambled with a thousand reasons why the word has no longer a need for me. That it would be so much better to be on the opposite side of life watching as people pass by my open casket whispering things like "too soon. he died too soon". And each time those thoughts surface I try to forcefully pick myself up and search my memories for the moments when my heart smiled at the simplicity of beauty. I struggled to find any.

I thought about dying so much, and in so much detail that I wrote a letter to the people who love me. You can read it here. I'm not ashamed in the least for writing this and that, because it was the shame that pushed me there. The shame of what people would think of me when i confess that I want to die. its the shame that kept me from reaching out to the many close people I have in my life. its the shame that tells me right now I'm making the biggest mistake of my life writing this. but I don't care. I want to be better. i want to be free. i want people to know that beneath every person's smile and sigh there might be a bottomless pit of darkness, if only we were to notice it.

Some will read this and see a pitying cry for attention; some will read this and judge; some will feel sad for me, but I know there are those who will read this and see the bravery with which each line was written. Through whichever lens you may look at this, my only desire is to become better. To become the fun, laughing, loving-life person you once knew. I would give anything to be him again, but I can't sit and just wish him back; I need to reach out to you friend, family, stranger. And i'm doing so in the only way i can express and articulate properly, though writing.

Believe me, I have no intention to kill myself anymore, but i know also that I'm not healthy, and if I don't reach out for help I might visit the dark room more and more, and might not return from it.

I need help. I need a rescue, not in a spiritual way, but in a way that feels and is human. Somehow I feel I should have done this sooner but asking for help has no expiry date.

Pray for me. Talk to me.

I just want to be better.

My Last Letter, it was supposed to be.

I’m writing this in advance, because I know it’s only a matter of time before it’s the end. Believe me when I say I’m no coward. I’m really not. I’m just SO tired of living; tired of thinking, hoping, believing that things might take a turn for the better. Let’s not be fooled. It only gets better when it’s been good for some time already, which in my case, have been never.

Real life, I hate to leave you behind, but my guess is that it’s only gonna be a matter of years, maybe months and I’ll be forgotten, because there’s just too many of us. We are a lot, but our voices are too soft.

My only real regret for leaving is the people I’m leaving behind- the ones who cared, each in their own way. My heart ache for the pain I’m leaving you with. Please don’t walk around with guilt and shit. Cry, for a few days at least, and then live glorious lives. The lives you’ve always wanted to live. Take it from me; I choked myself because I could never live the life I wanted. You can call it weakness, cowardice, selfishness, but I could not dare to live another day with all these secrets eating away at me in any way.

I have lived with pain. I have lived with pleasure. True joy has befriended me at times, but I haven’t been truly happy for a number of years now. My smiles were genuine and my love for others was real. I could not have faked that. For I love people too much. I have always looked out for people, and I would die for a friend, but I have never cared to look after myself. I have never cared about my own happiness because I never believed I could honestly be happy.

I’m 28 years old but I have lived close to a hundred years of stories and they seem to weigh in on me. I can feel it. I have lost my sanity in it all. I couldn’t handle it any longer.

The past four years I’ve listened to over hundreds of gigabytes of music. I have felt the truth behind the phrase ‘music is a safe place’. I have found comfort in the Taylor Swift’s and meaning in the Demon Hunters. They both provided a place for me to get lost into, and I needed that. I would’ve left you much earlier most probably if it wasn’t for music.

I’m leaving most of you with nothing more than questions and confusion, but the darkness I’ve lived through were even more confusing every single time I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror.

To everyone who has loved me, I am so sorry. I have no idea how I got to this dark place while I knew you were there. I knew most of u were just a call or text away, any time of the day. So many times I wanted to 

just pick up the phone and say, “hey, I’m having a bad day. I’m having a hard time believing the truth about myself, but I never did. And the more I could not press ‘call’, the more I felt alone.

I started StayAliveFriend for the people I knew who struggled with their demons and needed a place to feel safe about it, but I never felt safe about my own. For some time I’ve found freedom in your braveness, but the heaviness I felt at night alone were too over-bearing.

Forgive me friends, family and everyone who believed in me. You were the very reason I held on for so long.

Every person that I’ve hurt that I haven’t had the chance to make amends with, I’m truly sorry for whatever it is I did to you.

We live in a world with so much pain. Not a day went by that I have not stepped out the door thinking about every person I’m meeting up with and wonder what pain they are hiding beneath perfectly made hair and shining shoes.

Please make the world a better place for yourself and the people you meet.

I know there’s a million better ways to cope than through this. I know if I had just talked to someone. I know things could have been better, but I did not, and things did not go better. I’m here. I’m ready. I’m gone.

Love,

Ivor