Suicide Thoughts

As I walked out of the pharmacy, the small bottle of rat poison still clutched in my hand, the weight of everything seemed to press down even harder. I was so tired—tired of feeling lost, tired of trying to keep everything together, tired of facing each day knowing that the walls were closing in.

I knew the poison wasn't the answer. I knew it was just a distraction, a way to hold on to something I could control. But at that moment, it was all I could do. I had to do something. I couldn't just keep walking through life like this, feeling like I was slowly drowning.

I barely noticed where I was walking, only that I had ended up in a park near my new apartment. The streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows across the empty benches and paths. The cool night air brushed against my skin, but it didn't help clear the fog in my mind.

I sat down on one of the benches, staring down at the bottle in my hands. The world around me felt distant, as though I was trapped in some kind of limbo. I could hear the sounds of people laughing and talking in the distance, but they felt like they belonged to someone else. Not me. I didn't belong anywhere anymore.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my haze. I pulled it out, seeing a message from Benna.

"Hey, I know things are tough right now, but I'm here for you. Don't forget that. We'll get through this together, okay?"

Her words were a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge. For the first time that day, I felt something other than the weight of everything pressing down on me. I wasn't alone. I had people who cared. I had Benna.

With trembling hands, I typed back:

"Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you. I'm trying... I am."

I sat there for a few more minutes, the cool breeze brushing against my face, trying to gather the strength to move forward. I couldn't keep running away from my problems. I had to face them, even if it scared me. Even if it hurt.

Slowly, I stood up, looking down at the rat poison in my hand. I realized then that it wasn't going to solve anything. It was just a temporary escape, and I didn't need to escape anymore. I needed to face my fears and take control of my life again. I didn't have all the answers, but maybe I didn't need to. Maybe I just needed to keep moving, one step at a time.

With a deep breath, I turned and walked back to my apartment. I still didn't have a job. I still didn't know how I was going to pay the rent. But I couldn't let fear stop me. I couldn't let the weight of everything crush me. I had to keep fighting—for myself, and for the baby.

As I opened the door to my apartment, I placed the bottle of rat poison on the counter and looked around at the small space. It wasn't much, but it was mine. And maybe that was all I needed to start over

The apartment was quiet as I stood there, staring at the bottle of rat poison on the counter. The silence felt overwhelming, and I could hear the faint hum of music from the neighbor in the background. I wasn't sure what to do next. Everything felt like it was in limbo. I knew I needed a plan, but the thought of facing my future was almost too much to bear.

I walked over to the couch and sat down, my hands still trembling as I pulled my knees up to my chest. I couldn't shake the thought of how much I had messed up. I had made so many mistakes, and now everything seemed to be falling apart around me. Mark's rejection, my mother's disappointment, the empty apartment—it was all too much to carry alone.

But as I sat there, I started to remember Benna's words from earlier. "One step at a time." She was right. I didn't need to have everything figured out today. I just needed to take one step forward, no matter how small.

I reached for my phone again, this time dialing my cousin's number. I hadn't spoken to him much lately, but I knew I needed to ask for help. The rent was due soon, and I had no idea how I would manage without a steady income.

"Hey, Emma," my cousin answered after a few rings. "You okay?"

I hesitated for a moment before replying, the weight of everything pressing down on me again. "I'm trying to be... but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up. I don't have a job, and I don't know how I'm going to pay rent next month. I'm struggling."

He was silent for a moment, and I could hear the sound of papers rustling in the background. "I get it. Things have been tough for you. Look, I might be able to help out a bit more if you need it. Just let me know."

Relief washed over me, though the shame of asking for help still gnawed at my insides. "Thank you," I whispered. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime. You're family, Emma. We'll get through this. Did you tell Uncle about the pregnancy yet" The question was a mind opener. I felt the time stopped. The thought of telling him and his reaction overwhelmed me. 

"Not yet but I plan to tell him tomorrow when I go back home. I don't even know how to start." I poured out all my emotions as she listened attentively

"Don't worry. It will pass. Just tell him and face whatever reaction he will give." I knew she was right. I will face it once and for all.

After hanging up, I felt a small sense of comfort. I wasn't completely on my own. I had people who cared, and maybe that was enough for now.

But even with my cousin's support, I still had so many uncertainties. What if I couldn't find a job? What if I wasn't strong enough to keep going?

I sighed and laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The silence in the apartment felt almost suffocating, but then, I remembered the baby.

I had to keep going—for the baby. I had to be strong, even when I didn't feel strong at all.