A Waste of Space

“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, and I’m letting everyone I love and care about down. Therefore, I am simply a waste of space.”

Call this post-graduate existential crisis, or just an anxiety attack that took a wrong turn; that was my thought process throughout the month of June. It peaked on June 26th, when this constant thought prompted me to call a suicide help line because I didn’t trust myself to be alone in my thoughts. Today I feel proud that I was rational enough to reach for help. If I was even a but less rational, I don’t think I would be writing this today.

Suicide, me? 
While most folks, especially my family and loved ones, may never believe that I reached a point that low, I did. It’s even safe to say that I reached a lot of low points throughout this year alone, and we’re only halfway done. I called because the feeling of being pinned against the wall was feeling more and more real. So when I finally told this kind stranger whose job was to help, I felt a new feeling that I never felt before.

It was liberating.

It felt liberating feeling that anything that I felt, and thought, is utterly and completely valid. It felt liberating that someone that was not in my friends or family said that I was completely enough in this world. While it felt more liberating when someone that I know and respect echoed these words the day after, that initial feeling that someone in this world who does not know my story or even my identity, has deemed me enough.

In all honesty, I still feel like I’m overstaying my welcome, that I’m making life a little crowded for my friends and loved ones. But exactly one week after I made that call, I go back to that feeling of liberation. The feeling that I deserve a space in this world, and maybe next week, or the week after, I can feel confident enough to reclaim it.