Do you ever think about suicide?

I'm sorry, maybe that was a heavy question... I wouldn't know. My arms have long grown sore from carrying this weight.

Dramatic, I know, but indulge me if you will, in this hypothetical: 

Holding a coffee cup isn't exactly exhausting, right?

You carry it in your hand, your name scribbled out in Sharpie beside "one shot espresso" and "almond milk." You sip from it occasionally as you run errands and do chores, maybe you even set it down on the counter for a while and come back to finish it later.

Imagine, you couldn't set down your cup until you finished your entire drink.

Okay, kind of a ridiculous scenario, but not the end of the world.

Maybe you chug it and toss it, maybe you don't mind holding it a few extra minutes- as you finish your coffee the cup gets even lighter anyway. But what if the coffee was too hot? Sure that’s pretty typical, one might wait to drink it to avoid burning your tongue and even appreciate the warmth of the cup beneath your fingers. That doesn't seem so bad. Now let's say, what if your drink was made wrong? You take a sip and, ugh, that's definitely not almond milk. This is when things get tricky.

Different people may react different ways, so let's play the multiple choice game:

A) Politely ask for your drink to be remade, accepting that mix-ups happen sometimes.

B) Angrily demand your drink be remade, finding someone to blame for this problem. 

C) Don't say anything, throw your drink away, and never come back. 

D) Drink your cow milk coffee beverage anyway, and accept the consequences in the form of a terrible stomach ache. 

If I haven't lost you yet, dear reader, I know you might be sitting there rolling your eyes and saying to yourself, "It's not that deep, it's just coffee!" To which I say to you, "It's not that deep, I'm just a writer— you clicked on this post!" 

But I hope you stick around for the ride, because while my coffee example is slightly ridiculous, it's not without reason. This silly little scenario actually is that deep and speaks volumes of truth to the topic that made you click on this blog post: suicide. 

Now, I'm not saying that if a barista gets my coffee wrong I'm gonna take option C with a side of cyanide, but I urge you to consider what answer you would choose and the judgements you silently cast (or post on twitter) about the people who chose differently than you.

In all reality, it's just a coffee and every human is subject to their own unique expression. Maybe you usually choose A but they caught you on a bad day and now you chose B and feel terrible. (If so, consider apologizing to your barista and going to therapy<3) Okay, okay, jokes aside, I want to draw your attention to the subtle social intricacies at play here, and think for a moment how prideful we can be, and how quickly that can turn to judgment of those we see as "other” and maybe even "less than." 

A) "I was behind this girl in line, I know she asked for almond milk and the barista was the one who messed it up, but the girl actually apologized for having to ask for her drink to be remade! How pathetic, everyone nowadays is such a snowflake." 

B) "Ugh there was a total Karen at Starbucks today, I don't even know if she forgot to specify almond milk or the barista messed it up, either way she started yelling and causing a whole scene. She was terrible." 

C) "They gave her the wrong order and instead of asking for it to be remade, she just threw the whole drink away! What a waste of a drink and money, that girl must be so privileged."

D) "She's lactose intolerant, but drank the coffee with milk anyway! Why would she do that to herself? How dare the barista mess that up, what if she was allergic! Such a people pleaser, avoiding conflict even at her own expense." 

In the blink of an eye, we've created mountains out of molehills. We've included our personal prejudices, opinions, and struggles with conflict-intimacy into a completely fake scenario about a coffee that was supposed to have almond milk. If we can do that with just a simple coffee, imagine for a moment what we can do when we're talking about a subject still struggling to come to light in a changing world, like mental health. 

Don’t worry, reader, I’m not going to sit here and repeat tales of the over-apologizer or people pleaser, or the stories of the kid who only acts that mean because that’s all they know, or any other bait-and-switch PC “awareness” story you’ve already heard. No, I’m going to continue my coffee cup analogy.

What if, no matter what multiple choice answer you chose, you were stuck carrying the coffee cup that held your wrong order? All. Day. Long. 

Your friends ask you, "What's with the cup?" "Why can't you just throw it away?" "Y’know, you should x, y, and z." 

Uh oh, now we've fallen into the trap. 

"Trust me, I want to throw it away!" You cry, "I wish I could just drink it!" and how "I tried that already!"

Very quickly the people who want to help become the enemy. Don't they know how frustrated you are at having to carry this cup around all day? Don't they know how bad it makes you feel, since the cup reminds you of conflict and you can't do anything about it? Eventually you wish you could just hide the cup so no one says anything and you can suffer in silence. 

How polarizing this scenario became. How exhausting it must be, for you and your friends alike, knowing you have this coffee cup that you just can't throw away. 

And this is when we bring it all together–  stay with me now!

Is a coffee cup heavy? No, not typically. 

Is this coffee cup heavy? The one you try to hide, that your friends ask you about, the one that you can't throw away no matter how much you want to? 

I’m pretty sure that “simple” coffee cup doesn't feel so light anymore. 

In fact, it feels so heavy that no one wants to dare acknowledge how heavy it really is. 

If we accept that this particular coffee cup is so heavy, what about every other coffee cup in the world? Nobody will want coffee anymore if the cup is so heavy. 

Alright reader, I'm bold enough to assume that you're a smart cookie and you're starting to catch on. 

At this stage in our society a huge dialogue about mental health has begun. It's necessary and life changing, and I'm so, so grateful for that. Access to therapy and harm reduction resources can make the world of difference to someone struggling with the weight of their coffee cup.

However, I'm going to go out on a ledge here and say that positivity platitudes like “It’s ok not to be ok” and suicide hotlines that send cops to your door for a “wellness check” and the all too familiar echo chamber of social media do more harm than good. 

At the end of the day, I still sit here with an unbearably heavy coffee cup and I'm tired of talking about tools I can use to make it feel lighter. I'm tired of the people I love saying to me, "I know that cup is so heavy- I'm here for you!" When I don't even know what "here for you" means anymore. Does it mean your coffee cup is heavy too? Does it mean you can help me hold it? Or does it mean that every time I mention how heavy my cup is, you run to hide the knives?

Hi reader, my name is Aria, I'm suicidal and I'm fucking tired of not being able to talk about it.

I'm tired of screaming to songs about death alone in my room with tears streaming down my face. I'm tired of hiding in the bathroom, holding in sobs and wanting to just completely disappear. I'm tired of scratching my pain into reality with a razor to the wrist or a red pen pressed onto paper.

I'm fucking tired of trying medication after medication, only to end up in handcuffs and grippy socks. 

I'm fucking tired of mincing my words with my therapist and loved ones out of fear that I'm going to end up back in that place. 

My name is Aria, I'm suicidal and I NEED a space to talk about it without judgement, fear, or consequence. With the state of things, I'd venture to say that you or someone you know does too.

I want to live a happy and fulfilling life, of course I do.

I want to throw out the damn coffee cup! I want to throw it into a dumpster, light the dumpster on fire and chuck it out into outterfuckingspace.

But that’s not the reality I’m living with.

The reality is, I love my family, I love music, and a pretty sunset, and the ocean breeze, and laughing with my best friend, and sharing a warm home cooked meal. The truth is there’s so much to live for, but I won’t be able to share in the beauty of life if I have to hide my all-too-heavy coffee cup. My cup comes with me and I’m ready to talk about it, are you?

#LetsTalkAboutSuicide