September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day.
Ironically, it’s also my birthday.
As you know, I’ve been vocal about my mental sufferings on my blog. For months, I did nothing but wallow in suicidal thoughts, going back and forth from being a typical suicidal teen to a mental health advocate.
The perspective of my writings keeps shifting from being The Nega Star (ever-pessimist-human-who-wants-to-stay-positive-but-couldn’t-thanks-to-my-depression) to The Advocate (the-writer-who-writes-about-depression-without-shame-to-supposedly-inspire-others-to-hashtag-never-give-up).
Thanks to this blog, I found refuge whenever I needed to let out my thoughts and emotions. But just because it has seen an almost-month-long hiatus from yours truly, doesn’t mean I’m suffering no more.
Truth is, the depressive cycle is not over yet.
And then I heard September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day.
Because I’m the type to make a big deal out of trivial things, I was #shookt when the I first heard about this coincidence.
My first reaction was, “Are you fucking kidding me?’
As I became used to it, I started to make myself believe that The Great Universe conspired so that every September 10, I am reminded of two things: first, my existence and second, the reason why I shouldn’t cease to exist.
So, dear self, happy birthday to you and I hope you keep on keeping on;