You end finishing the sentence, afterwards feeling overwhelmed because maybe this might be it. The final draft, the finished story, no more pain and no more worry.
You stand up, stretch your arms and remind yourself it will be ok. Make some breakfast and a cup of coffee, come back to what would’ve been your goodbye. Only to find the power was blown, a blackout and the letters gone.
Anxiety now filling every inch of your bones, you start thinking about alternative options like.
A note on the fridge? Nah that’a stupid… maybe I could just… NO! you shout at the lies in your head.
SNAP! those fingers make a sound and suddenly you figure out, no one cares or at least that’s what you think.
I’ll stop there because you probably understand the person above was struggling with Suicidal ideation. It’s a made up character yet it’s many people’s reality, especially those who come face to face with that type of mental illness.
If someone who’s paid to make us laugh, chooses to take their own life. Surely we need to really get to know the people we “claim” to love. Surely we could all do a lot better, no mental health has ever been a catch cry for sympathy. Maybe we just need a change in our perspective, just because it’s not part of your story, doesn’t mean we can’t have some compassion.
So if Tomorrow is the evidence of things we haven’t seen, I wonder if we can treat eachother well.
Much love, Shaun