Unless, and until, you personally have hung on to the edge of the world by just your fingernails — year after year after year — and you have sought out every form of treatment available — including electroconvulsive therapy and a vagus nerve stimulator implanted in your chest — you cannot even begin to understand just how seductive suicide is in comparison to living inside the head — MY head — of a person with a mental illness.
You want me to stay yet, what you don't know and what I can't bring myself to tell you is, on the inside, I have already died. Over the years I may have won a million tiny battles against an enormously stigmatized and misunderstood disease, yet I no longer have the strength to keep up the fight to win the war.
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