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On Calling to Help
7 years ago291 words
The police just showed up at my house to talk to me about being suicidal. So if you're planning to ring them about that, please don't, since they've already been.

While I appreciate the concern of whoever contacted them, mostly it just caused embarrassment for my parents and an awkward interaction for me. They were nice people and everything, and it was interesting to be reminded that people care, but...

Well, I suppose there doesn't need to be a 'but'. It's happened now, and they didn't find my corpse hanging from the rafters or anything. I'm probably not going to be killing myself any time soon anyway, so please don't contact the authorities about this.

...I need to sort my thoughts out before writing about all this in more depth, but I do want to say that I just read the comments on the previous post, and they do make an impact. I'll try hanging on for now, despite great reluctance, but... well, like I said, I'll need time to think some things through before deciding what to do next.

One thing I do want to say though is that it's frustrating - if entirely understandable - how people assume that getting 'help' will magically solve problems like mine. That by ringing some suicide hotline, seeing a counsellor, getting drugs, or having vapid conversations with aged volunteers will somehow fill the heart hole that's causing me the pain in the first place. It's like taking paracetamol to heal a shotgun wound to the chest. It won't. But I know why people suggest it... What else can they do? It's just a shame that things are more complicated than that.

Like I said though, I'll try to hang on for now, somehow.

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