The Dark Warrior

Let's talk about this.  Please.  Let's get this out there.  Open it.  Bring it up.

There are dark warriors among us.  Maybe it's you.  Maybe it's someone you know.  The fight isn't as a physical illness.  We don't see social media posts about how the battle is progressing, or how they are faring on a day to day basis.
The struggle.
The internal nature of it is invisible in almost every way.

They act out; even lash out.  They act strangely and we place them on a shelf of "well, that's just the way they are."  Then tragedy strikes, and suddenly all the signs make sense.
But the pain is unbearable.

Let's talk about this.  Please.

I am a survivor of suicide.  I never talk about it.  I never bring it up.  I don't.  Why?  Because those I love can't imagine what it is they did or didn't do for me to believe my life wasn't worth it.  The truth is?  It wasn't them.  It isn't them.

It wasn't because they didn't love me, or because they weren't there.  Most of the time I didn't see it.  I couldn't see it.  And in that blindness I simply felt nothing.  To myself?  I was worthless.  I saw the pain I caused others.  I saw how they reacted to my stupid decisions.  I wanted to change, to be different than I was, but I didn't know how.  I was sad for no reason.  I can't explain it.  But there were days where simply breathing took everything I had.  There were days I fought the thoughts; the desire to escape it all lured me.  It called me.  I would cry for hours, then I wouldn't cry for days; I was a shell.  It was as though my will to live escaped with my tears.  My smiles were empty.  I was empty.  Every day the next life tempted me with its option of being pain free.  Whatever that next life held, it had to be better than where I was.
To myself?  I was a burden.  I was useless.
I was worthless.

People were there.  They were there often.  I was told all the time "you know I'm here, right?"  Yes, I knew.  But I didn't.  Why didn't I?  I can't explain it.  I knew I was loved.  I knew I had purpose, but I didn't feel it.  In fact, I often didn't feel at all.  I felt nothing so often I believed I was nothing, and in my nothingness I could just drift away and no one would notice.

I am a survivor of suicide.  I walked the line many times.  The details don't matter.  What matters is that it happened.  What matters is that I am here now.  What matters is that my next life became this life, and all my tomorrow's were directly linked to my today.  What matters is that this invisible battle requires openness.  It requires speaking.  What matters is that we say "Please help me" with words, not actions.  Then others can act to help.
We have to speak in order for others to listen.

To the Dark Warriors;
Do not be afraid to admit it.  It isn't weakness.  You are among the greatest, and the strongest.  Do not be afraid to reach for a hand to lift you when you have fallen, and seek for those hands in every way you can.  I know you feel nothing.  Empty.  But others don't feel empty about you.  They will be empty without you.  Do not let this life defeat you.  You are a warrior.  You can see in the shadows, and you have experienced the deepest secrets of the night.  Do not relent when the black begins to cave in on you.  Fight.  Fight for yourself.  Fight for your tomorrow.
Clarity will come with the dawn.  
The light.

You needn't fight alone.  You needn't be alone.  It is time to speak, Dark Warrior.  Be heard, and the night won't be as painful.  The numbness will fade.  Life will begin to fill you again.  Light will dispel the shadows.  Eventually, you will win.  Eventually, the night will be where you go to save those fighting.  They will see you, and they will know you as you know them.  As I know you.  Let me fight beside you.  Let me carry your sword when you are too weak to stand.  Let me be the night watchman when you have nothing left to give.  I know these shadows well, and I know they can be defeated.
Let your heart be calm, Dark Warrior.  Your day of sun is coming.

It's coming.