Learning through experience and error

I Wanted To Kill Myself Three Years Ago, I’m Glad I Didn’t Do It

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I Wanted To Kill Myself Three Years Ago, I'm Glad I Didn't
Read the post to know why this extremely low-quality photo is one of the best things that ever happened to me.

I wanted to kill myself three years ago. This isn’t some common cry for help. It’s a story. A story of how nothing has to be dark and grim on the outside for someone wanting to kill themselves. It could be burning hell on the inside and you’d never know it.

Have you ever read my blog? I urge you to read anything from before the year 2014 and you’ll surely notice that something is off. To save you hours of reading, you’ll see that there is not one post that embraces or cherishes anything. Everything is about something that I hated. A single post hating something is obviously normal. A complete year’s archive full of them though? Not so much.

If you knew me during the last years of my school, by any slightest possible chance, then you’ll remember the slightly overweight, sarcastic adolescent who had it all figured out in his renegade rebellious visage. A family, a girlfriend, a group of friends; what else does one need at that age, right? I had it all.

Yet, you’d notice an extreme decline if you compared me with who I had been as a child. An advanced state of decay. A complete dip in the graph but then no one has the time for all that. I didn’t.

All I remember was going to school, every day, coming back home and hating everything. In a blog post, I said how I would not have any problem killing people if I believed they were wrong. I also believed that my home was the darkest, most grim places in the world because we didn’t have enough money. That wasn’t true. I just couldn’t look at the positive at the time. That was a problem.

People encouraged me standing up against everything though. It is the general trend of this generation to embrace everything that is contrarian. It does more bad than good, in my opinion. I found validation for my dark thoughts in people’s appreciation of my content. It went beyond my content though. I became a complete wall of contradiction. I stepped down from an honour that my school gave me to further my stand. How ridiculous is that?

Being against the status-quo is not a problem. However, strongly hating everything is. I couldn’t agree with anything. I couldn’t smile on things people could. Now that I look back on that time of my life, I don’t remember anything specific. I just remember a general state of hate. Hating my parents, hating my school, hating my friends, hating my life.

That hate started driving me to what I can only call fanaticism. I became a fanatic. Hell bent on proving that I was somehow right about everything and that every single thing I pointed toward was rotten. I could not see perspective and I barely laughed. Always pissed at something, I was like a grenade, waiting to explode. I was a snail, inside its own sticky goo, comfortable but trapped.

The irony was that I had everything that a teenager could want at the time and so I pretended. I pretended for a year that I loved my girlfriend. I pretended to laugh and have fun with my friends. However, most of my experiences with friends and family during the time are nothing but arguments. I remember my brother trying his sheer best to get me to open up and laugh.

That wasn’t the worst of it though. One of my closest friends was over at my house during the summers in 2014. This is what happened,

“Do you know how I’d love to die, man?” I asked him.

“Tell me about it”, he said thinking I was cracking some joke.

“I wanna get to this point of success, where I’m on a stage and everyone’s watching.” I said, “at that moment, I want to take a pistol out of my jacket pocket and put a bullet in my skull. On live television.”

I wasn’t alarmed. He wasn’t either. He probably thought it was some twisted joke from one of his friends who had been incredibly down under lately. People expected dark shit from me then. That or a rude, sarcastic retort on almost everything.

Imagine feeling that everything was on fire. Every single thing in the world was somehow wrong and feeling like the only one who could see that. It felt like people were voluntarily blind to whatever was wrong and in that helplessness, I was the heretic trying to spread the message of truth. I felt I had no purpose. No one had anything to do here and that all of us were living a sad existence. While all of that looks very attractive in poetry, it is extremely sad to truly believe it with all of your heart.


Three years later, I feel glad that I did not go through with any ideas I had at the time and trust me, I had many. I guess all of them were extravagant enough to be a bit impossible for anyone to go through with. However, at one time, I really did think that everything and everyone would be so much better if I wasn’t part of the picture. I believed with all of my heart that everything would be fine or at least the suffering would end if I could just kill myself.

The reason I share this today is because it’s been just three years and everything changed. The funny part is that sometimes the answers to the most complex problems in life are so plain and simple that it’s absolutely bewildering. In the end, what brought me back was a simple sunrise. This sunrise,

The Sunrise That Saved Me

I laughed again. If I had gone through with it I would have missed out on so much. I would’ve never dropped out of college and met so many amazing people. I would’ve never earned over $200,000 before I was even 21 years old. My parents would’ve spent their 25th wedding anniversary without me. I would never get to try and embrace a life of ideas. All of these are the bigger moments. Of course, there are countless smaller ones. Imagining not ever seeing or experiencing so much that I’ve seen and experienced in these few years makes me shudder. Honestly.

People would go on without me though. They’d still be fine but I know for a fact that, in my way, I made their experience better and they did the same for me. This will continue on till our time here is done and maybe, if I ever fall in that trap again till I’m here, I’ll come back and read this. I urge you to do the same.

P.S. If you really have no one to talk to or understand how you feel, you can always hit me up on deepanshkhurana[at]thepolymath.in because I know how hell feels. I know how hard pretending normalcy can be. I’ve been there.

About the author

Deepansh Khurana

Blogger and writer from Dehradun, India. I'd say I love coffee but don't we all? I find stories, people and experiences. I blog about them.

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      • People seem to think that Suicide is a cowards way out, I have heard a cop say that it is moment of anger gone bad, actually suicide what ever the trigger is something that is piled on, it is not about escaping a bad situation it is just exhaustion that the coping mechanism faces due to overload. There is an innate internal truth and when that truth is disturbed or violated then then the system tries to fight to bring the balance back exactly like how it happens in physicality this is a emotional fabric. Just an the physical body gives up fighting disease after a long battle the emotional fabric also gives up. When we say someone died battling cancer we are all in awe but suicide is someone dying battling an emotional trauma we look at it in disdain and if someone has been rescued from a suicide the way people interact is pathetic.

        • Thank you for this comment. I see the point you were trying to make when you said it wasn’t about bravado. Beautifully put. I agree. It’s all about the build up of emotions, all that repressing makes one, in fact, urges and forces one to have these thoughts and in some cases, act on them.

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Deepansh Khurana

Blogger and writer from Dehradun, India. I'd say I love coffee but don't we all? I find stories, people and experiences. I blog about them.

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