how to feel excited about being alive
an essay excerpt that explores the obvious answer: u have to try (+ your weekly song and poem recs)
cw // suicidal ideation
“Let’s say you learned there was a chance that you could die in eight months, but if you wanted, you could choose to keep living,” my therapist says. “If you chose to die, everyone you love would understand, and no one would blame you, as they knew it was coming. But having a full life would still be possible if you wanted it. How would you feel knowing you had the option?”
After a beat of intense (virtual) eye contact, I realize I’m not as recovered as I like to believe I am, because most people wouldn’t hesitate to say, “I would choose to keep living.”
I’m not being hyperbolic when I say there are a million reasons that make me want to stay alive. It’s not hard for me to identify these reasons to continue existing: I want to know what my husband’s voice sounds like when we’re old and creaky. I want to go to my best friend’s kid’s eighteenth birthday party. I want to write more books and smoke more weed and feel the damp kiss of fall during my favorite hike.
Yet when my therapist asks this hypothetical question, I realize that my indecision is indicative of how blurry and complicated recovery can be.
Plus, this hypothetical scenario isn’t so hypothetical — it’s exactly what my life has always looked like. The exit door has always been there, blinking red, opened a crack, waiting for me to decide to pull it shut or push through to the proverbial “other side.”
“I don’t want to die anymore,” I say to my therapist.
“But something is still missing, and you don’t feel excited about living.”
I agree with them, even though their statement isn’t entirely true. There are a million parts of my life that excite me — the sound of my dog’s excited bark when I come home after running errands, a text that reads, ‘I just listened to this song, and it made me think of you,’ the burning, scratchy feeling of the summer beach sand under my bare feet. All of these things — and more — make me want to choose the “stay alive” option in my therapist’s scenario. I have not only survived my traumas, but I have also survived myself, over and over again. I want the chance to spend time with myself and get to know who I am when I am not tempted by the version of me who is more concerned with escaping than existing. And yet, I still hesitate to make the decision.
“I don’t know what’s missing,” I respond.
“If you really do want to keep living, I guess you’ll have to find it.”
“I don’t even know where to begin looking.”
My therapist reminds me where not to look — my vices, in people, on a map somewhere far away. Choosing to keep living, I’ve learned, is the hardest choice between living and dying; I wouldn’t have experienced the aftermath of my disappearance if I decided to end my life, but to keep living means that I have to feel the repercussions of trying.
I don’t admit it out loud to my therapist, but I know where I need to look to find what I need to keep living — in the mirror. And god, there is nothing scarier than choosing to face myself. I’d much rather look at my grave than look at the hands that could drive me to it. I am terrified to know what I will find when I search for the desire to live within myself. I don’t want to pull back these rotten onion layers of scar tissue and discarded memories.
What if I don’t like who I am under all of this? Would I still want to choose to be alive, or would I regret my decision to try?
“Good thing we have plenty of time to figure it out,” my therapist reminds me.
icymi —
as i settle into my final semester of grad school, i’m finally rediscovering a publishing cadence that feels good for me. this newsletter will still be (mostly) weekly, but i have decided to unpause my paid subscriptions.
i go back and forth on whether or not i like the idea of paid subscriptions because i want my content to be accessible. however, the earnings from this substack fund my writing endeavors and help me continue to write more for you (and for me!)
here’s my compromise — i’d love for you to become a paid subscriber if you like this newsletter. however, if you don’t have the financial means to contribute, please reach out to me, and i will give you access. i’ve also put my archive behind a paywall, and the same applies — if you want to access my older content but can’t afford to be a paid subscriber, please let me know!
paid subscribers are currently getting writing/journaling prompts, extra song recs, and hopefully more soon :)
with love + poetry,
a poem i haven’t stopped thinking about
Postcard 2 by Franz Wright
this week’s song rec
i will not be disclosing how many times I’ve listened to Like a Puppy by Sophie Truax in the last week because it is not only embarrassing, but would also probably concern my therapist:
it’s poetry! it’s poetry! i love music so much! i am so drawn to write a persona poem after listening to this song [a redacted number of] times [in a row].
silly tweets for a good little haha
housekeeping:
icymi: i made a doc full of book recommendations for people who want to read more poetry but don’t know where to start!
don’t forget to complete your one click today to support aid efforts in Palestine
unfold: poetry + prose, is available on amazon, bookshop, indigo, b&n, or wherever you get books <3
you can still buy paper girl from amazon, barnes & noble, indigo, or your local indie.
i love you. and i see you. and i am so glad you're here.
who i am: a writer, a lover, and a very Black + queer person. i love deeply, forget rarely, and spend most of my time cuddling with my dog, my cat, and my partner.
who i'm not: a therapist, mental health professional, or emergency service. i love hearing the stories of your experiences, but please don't send explicit or triggering details of your story without my prior consent.
if you're in crisis, please call 911 or use any of the following resources:
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 988
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
Crisis Text Line: Text HELP to 741741
S.A.F.E. (Self Abuse Finally Ends): 1-800-DONT-CUT (366-8288)
Eating Disorders Awareness and Prevention: 1-800-931-2237
RAINN (Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network): 1-800-656-4673
The Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
loved this essay—I’m so glad you’re here.