Instead of Killing Myself, I Called a Suicide Hotline

Joel Leon.
Aug 21, 2017 · 6 min read
Photo by Alyssa Smith on Unsplash

“Why did he jump in front of the train?”

“Was he unhappy?

“Maybe he had good days, but he had more bad days than good, maybe that’s why?”

Last stop, and look at the father and let him know “your daughter is smart.” Being above ground, everywhere you look, you are scanning for ways to do it, but recognize you are far too scared — scared of the pain, of not seeing your daughter grow, of missing out on the dreams and things you promised of yourself, for yourself. This too, feels cowardly: the thought of ending your life but being fearful of actually ending it. What spectrum of the suicide wheelhouse is this? You resolve yourself to an intake at a hospital. Calling 911 and saying you want to harm yourself is an ambulance, and ambulance’s are expensive. You have worked in social services, they will not keep you overnight. You know the checklist: do you have a plan, are you carrying a weapon, are you a threat to yourself or others? At best, they will schedule you a follow-up appointment to see a psychiatrist. You just want a room where you have to remove your belt and boots, no shoelaces please. You need a break from people and work and co-parenting and expectations. Death feels easier. But, too much depends on you, on your life and shoulders (these thoughts also further the suicidal ideations), so you THEN decide to call a suicide hotline.

the composite

made up of various elements

Joel Leon.

Written by

dad. copywriter @taylorstrategy . book-writer. storyteller. recovering rapper. bit.ly/JoelsBooks

the composite

made up of various elements