I used to think that maybe people who committed suicide, they didn’t actually want to die; they just wanted to feel alive. To feel something. To prove to themselves, to their family, their friends and colleagues that they were mortal and able to feel something, even if it is the most extreme thing to feel.

I know that I wasn’t the only one who thought this and I know people still think this.

But I know that it is not true.

I know that people who commit suicide, people who are damn close to suicide or people who just feel depressed, these people do feel. The fact that the heart beat is still felt is a constant reminder that you are still alive, that you are human, you are mortal and no matter how much you wish that it would go away so that you could become numb once more, you know that wishes do not come true.

That is why people commit suicide.

To die.

Not to feel, because they are already feeling more than their fair share of emotions and pains. Hurt, guilt, pity, embarrassment, tension, nausea, pressure, stress, weight, misery, panic, torment, uselessness and most of all worthlessness. Feeling like they have no purpose, no reason except to listen to other people.

Unrequited attention.

Ahh fuck.