Feeling suicidal, walking through the valley of the shadow of death.


The Broken winged still fly. Walking through the valley of the shadow of death. This was tough to write.

These days, there are some people’s calls I do not answer. Especially with my all-time favourite stupid question”How are you? Haven’t heard from you in a while”

Me ” None of your business, you were busy, stay business, what’s good with me, absolutely nothing!

My response may seem blunt and harsh but I think honestly the conversation has to be had about suicide and depression. Most people are not supported and most people hardly have anyone to talk to. Depression is a lonely disease, especially when people think you’ve brought it on yourself, your sadness is seen as you being a victim, and your anger at real situations is seen as toxicity. Your feelings are invalidated and either you force yourself to be happy or some choose to stay away unless your negative mental health catches up with them. Fair enough, but the laments and stupid sing songs of woe from people who do not care at all, who make your disease about them and the hamper it has on their life, as they have their own issues and tell you to snap out of it, so you can be fun again or easier to deal with is not helpful. Then they decide to walk away if you can’t get it together and shout it out from the rooftops like them not having your back is some kind of a trophy you should hang onto.

 Most feel like a burden because lets be honest that is what has been said to them. For those stuck in the pain of the past, or trauma, worthless and deep pain without a feeling of hope, I can’t even describe the depths of nothingness you can get into, and when you try to speak of your mental health and pain. It’s dismissed with a simple solution of just getting over it. I understand why some people don’t see the light. After so much hurt, pain, betrayal, abandonment, and the feeling of worthlessness why survive. It will be those same people when people die posting useless comments of if only, if only. I knew if I left they would be the ones shedding tears, making unnecessary noise.

I survive by love. I had light. I had protection. I had people, though few, who cared, who showed me they loved me, even when I didn’t think so, they should me I mattered, I was worthy of life, that I could have hope. They carried me on that dehabilitating journey. I almost left in 2020, the love from a few loved ones and some strangers saved me. I still have dark days, but I know who to lean on, I have a job where I’m loved, I have people who love me, and slowly I’m learning to love myself and live. Throw away the unnecessary baggage and learn to be where love is. Where my feelings are valid. I will live. 

For those in that dark space. You will live, I know you’re hurting, but find the light no matter how small it is, find people who care. Cut out the people who don’t care and the situations that are bringing you down. Find light no matter how small. Start with small steps, with little things that make you smile. I don’t care what anyone says you are worthy of all good things. Stop answering the phone of those who thing you snap out of it, stop letting them blow up your phone as they know you, leaving stupid messages like you owe them something. Then won’t be there during your tough time.

I heard this song when I was younger by Martina Mcbride it was for a different situation, but I felt the lyrics through all my turmoil in my childhood years and the pain of the adult ones. I have paraphrased it and added my own words. 

She loved as a child like she was the last lover on Earth. 

Gave all the love she had. 

They broke her spirit down 

It was hard to think anyone could love her. 

Give a little then take it back. 

She was loud about her dreams. 

The kids just shot them down. 

Lord many love to make her cry. 

They said, you, crazy, for believing you will ever leave the ground. 

As she got older she heard the same words, 

Only angels know how to fly. 

But with a broken wing 

“She still sings

She keeps an eye on the sky

With a broken wing, 

She carries her dream, 

Men, you ought to see her fly

With a broken wing, 

She carries her dreams, 

Man, you ought to see her fly!” 

Author: Akosua Darko


London, UK



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