A Letter To The Man On The Other Side Of My Suicide Hotline Call

To the kind man on the other side of the suicide hotline,

I wish to say thank you.

Thank you for listening to me.

Thank you for helping make sure I was safe.

Thank you for keeping me alive.

You were there when my friends weren’t.

When the people who said they would never leave, left.

I wanted to die.

But you talked me down and listened to me ramble for an hour.

You reminded me last night of all I have to live for and how even though things suck right now,

I will be OK again.

You took me seriously.

You didn’t sugarcoat things and you weren’t afraid of what I had to say.

You helped me make a plan to stay safe.

You laughed with me and cried with me.

You gave me suggestions of things to watch on Netflix.

You kept me alive.

And I appreciate it.

So Garrett — that was your name — thank you.

You don’t know how much you did for me.

I was afraid to call.

I didn’t think I was bad enough to call, but then I looked down at where I had self-harmed, and I was scared.

Because I wanted to die, but I didn’t want to die.

I wanted the pain to end. I wanted the ache in my chest to stop.

But I didn’t want to die.

And I am extremely grateful I did call.

Because I could have died last night.

But today is a new day.

And I am here to see it.

The pain is still there and I don’t ache any less, but I am still here and that is a victory in and of itself.

 

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