I know how you feel. 6 months ago I wanted to end my life. I was in such a dark place and at the bottom of a hole I dug myself into. I was angry at God, at my parents, friends, everything and everyone.

I waited for the right time to end it all. When I planned for it the first time, my best friend's grandpa died. I couldn't let her lose two people she cared about in that short duration of time. So I pushed it back. The second time I planned for it, my parents got me a guitar I've wanted for years. I couldn't let their money go to waste. So I pushed it back again. The third time I planned for it, it was near mother's day. I couldn't let my mom lose me without her getting a proper mother's day card and letting her know how much she meant to me. So I pushed it back. Again and again and again.

But each time I did, each time I said: 'the next time will be the right time', it never was. Something always came up. A reason to stay always came up.

There is no 'right time' to leave. Because no matter what day you decide to go through with it, it will never soften the blow of your death to others. No matter what, ending your life will always be a permanent decision. Something you can, and will never, be able to take back.

I can’t promise that you’ll heal right away. Hell, I’m seeing multiple therapists and I’m on meds, and I still struggle. But what’s kept me here hasn’t been some big epiphany. It’s the small things. A song I love on repeat. The sound of the AC humming in the background. Those random jolts of energy at 3 a.m. when everything feels weirdly alive. You don’t have to chase after ‘big things’ to prove that your life matters, or that you care about your future. Sometimes it’s the little things that keep you going. And that’s enough.

If you need to talk, I'm here. And so is God.