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Nobody talks about wanting to die. There’s a dark stigma around it like it’s a contagious disease. It’s as if by talking about it, we have something to lose, when in reality, if we don’t talk about it, we’ll continue to lose many lives. We’re always surprised when somebody dies by suicide. We wonder where the signs were; we wonder how no one noticed something was off. We wonder why. We always wonder why.

Some days, I wake up, and the thought of having to go through the motions again becomes almost unbearable. Get up, shower, try to eat breakfast, go to work, try to have a social life, go to bed, and think about how much I don’t want to do the same thing day in and day out for the rest of my life. It all seems so tedious – especially when I’m also dealing with constant anxiety and treatment-resistant depression.

There are even days when I just want to die. I’m not saying that I’m suicidal. I don’t have a plan of action. I haven’t written my final goodbyes. I’ll be honest – I don’t even think I could bring myself to do it. The thought, though, is almost cathartic in a way. It’s like looking forward to taking a nap after you’ve woken up too early for a breakfast party that you didn’t even want to attend in the first place. When I’m at my lowest, I constantly think, “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t ask to be born.” Often, I’d rather face the pitch black of uncertainty than deal with being depressed and crying myself into an uneasy sleep night after night.

I’m finding that this is a fairly common train of thought – especially in my peers. We’re exhausted, overworked, underpaid, unfulfilled, overmedicated, undermedicated, stressed out, angry and depressed. There’s not enough time in a day to get everything one wants and needs done. By bedtime, we’re so frazzled that we’re overtired, our thoughts going a thousand miles an hour, with nowhere to go except around and around. That’s not good for anyone’s mental health, and it can seriously start to bog anyone down. I can’t tell you how many of my peers have ‘joked’ about killing themselves just to ease the stress of living. Maybe the thought of suicide hasn’t been at the forefront of their minds- but it’s definitely there.

When you type ‘not suicidal’ into the Google search bar, the first three suggestions that come up are:

“Not suicidal but tired of life.”

“Not suicidal, but wouldn’t mind dying.”

“Not suicidal but wanting to die.”

This tells me that there are a lot of people, like me and my peer group, who are feeling the exact same way. It’s comforting, knowing that I’m not alone in my existential dread, but it’s also concerning. As a nation, we’re still not talking about suicide, and we’re certainly not addressing mental health. Not to mention that treatment for anyone who’s considered “high functioning” with mental health needs is almost non-existent for young adults/adults. Most of my friends hear the same script from their providers, “Okay, you’re depressed and having some minor suicidal ideation… but you’re out of bed, you’ve combed your hair, ate half a piece of toast, and you’re going to work still… so I’m going to prescribe you this antidepressant that’ll make you groggy and confused when you wake up, and let’s see how you’re feeling in a month!” Are we supposed to take that seriously if they’re not taking us seriously?

I don’t know how we fix this. Maybe we don’t. But! We can make it better. We start by having real, open, and honest conversations about wanting to die, and we stop judging people and telling them that they’re weak. We start listening and stop threatening to send someone to the hospital every time they curiously utter the word ‘suicide.’ Be a friend. Be kind. Be supportive. Now, if you’re thinking that you can’t do this alone and you’re afraid to talk about it, don’t worry. I’ll start the conversation – my name is Chandra, and some days, I want to die.

Written by a founding member of Youth MOVE Massachusetts