Wanting To Suicide Saved My Life

I remember when I used to travel. The endless hours looking through the bus window was my favorite activity. I daydreamed of a life that was so distant from reality. A life where my life had actual meaning. Daydreaming enhanced my depression. It made it have spikes. Spikes that pierced through me as I failed to achieve anything significant in my life.

The years went by. I daydreamed harder. In my dreams, I skipped the process. I focused on the results. And days went by. Days without doing anything. Just enhancing my meaningless life with pain and sorrow.

But life wasn't fair either. Right when I started seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, I could see a gray hand grabbing me back. A hand that smelled of bad news.

I made a decision. This life doesn't have anything more to offer to me. Just pain and meaninglessness.

But my mind has one more thing to offer. I need to leave my legacy behind. My parents, who patiently raised me up. They deserve something from me. My ethics deny me from taking this horrible decision.

So I wait. I have one plan left.

I bought a black notebook. Black, to go along with my inner self. I started writing. Expressing all these thoughts I had inside of me. All this pain and misery. The sorrow.

Dark words were written in there. The sum-up of my failures is a place for darkness to grow.

My inability to comprehend what life gave me, the endless solitude. I'm a person who values loneliness. When dark thoughts arrive, closing myself under the rock of solitude seems the best way to go.

Months passed by. The notebook was about to end. I am an objective person. I daydreamed one more time. I fell asleep with the thoughts of me being in the third person. While standing up there, I noticed something very important. I was looking only on the other side. The grey hand that pulled me back. But the light was there, on the other side.

Was there still hope?

I woke up. I wanted to write down and explore the other side of the coin as well. If I'm about to leave a legacy behind for my parents, at least I have to do it right.

The notebook...It wasn't there!

'Where did it go?'

I saw signs of robbery.

NO...Not this. Anything by this...

The whole thing that kept me alive is now gone. My words. My legacy...

I had nothing left to fight for. I couldn't replicate those authentic words. My whole plan was to leave something for my parents to sell and find when I was gone.

The whole title of the notebook was "The diary of a dead man".

What am I supposed to do now?

Days went by, as I got drowned by depression. Once again, my bed sucked me like it was out of water. I don't know how to swim. How I wish it was water indeed.

My doorbell rang.

I opened the door. I saw my notebook with a package right by it. A letter was on it.

"Sorry. I read your notebook. I got tears in my eyes. My intentions were to steal another clueless young fella. But your words...Echoed in my soul. Your darkness made me realize that there's a lot of light still in life. I want you to know it as well. I read the final piece of your story as well. The part where you wanted your parents to sell that book and your legacy that is. To keep the money out of sales. I took the initiative to give it to a publisher. They gave me 20.000 dollars for the copyrights. I want you to have them. I want you to see that there is hope. That your daydreams are about to get real. Just promise me. You will take advantage of my gift. You will kickstart your life. You can see, it's worth it. You have a light in you. Spread it to the world!"

I never saw it this way. I never noticed that my words would have an impact.

But as my last dream foretold, there's a bright light on the other side. I only need to turn my body in that direction. Run faster than the speed of the gray hand that wants to keep me back. Rush like never before. The words of that man fueled my need for life.

As for the suicide...It brought me back to life...