My Secret
* This article talks about suicidal thoughts and mental depression*
I've been holding onto this secret for a very long time.
In previous articles, I've discussed the overwhelming pressure of striving for perfection and the relentless weight of my parents' American dream resting on my shoulders. The burden of unrealistic expectations, the constant need for perfection, the suppression of my true feelings, and the obligation to follow a path they envisioned for me were suffocating.
Graduating college was supposed to be the culmination of their dreams. I thought it would release all the pressure and finally make my parents proud. I was on the path they wanted: dating someone I believed I would marry, and seemingly on track to start my own family. According to my parents, I would have fulfilled all their expectations, and then it would be my turn to pursue my own dreams.
However, behind the facade of success lay a darker reality. Throughout the year, each fight and screaming match in a toxic relationship added to my emotional burden. School seemed to take a back side and I was barely passing my classes. Mentally, I was barely making it suppressing my feelings, I began to cut myself, finding a small release in the pain. Covering my wounds, I somehow felt a temporary sense of relief.
On the night of my graduation, the pressures mounted like a boiling kettle. Doubts about my relationship, my life, and the fear of failure overwhelmed me. The shame of not meeting my parents' expectations, of not getting married at the "right" time, engulfed me.
Months of silent suffering led to a breaking point. In a desperate act, I slit my wrist, ending up in the hospital with multiple stitches and a scar that remains with me to this day. Like everything else, I kept this event hidden from my parents. The hospital visit wasn’t a wake-up call; it was a realization of the burdens I would leave behind if I were gone. The debt, the funeral, the aftermath—I couldn't burden my loved ones with that.
I embarked on a journey to prepare for my death. I paid off debts, minimized my possessions, and moved out of state. I planned my exit, seeing it as taking control of my life. I suppressed the urge to cut myself and focused on working to pay off my student loans, searching for a way forward.
Despite trying to conform to my parents' expectations, the pressure to get married persisted. Another failed relationship, constant rejection, and a dead-end job without growth led me to believe I wasn't good enough.
I questioned my existence, and 27 became my target age for ending it all. With debts paid off and minimal possessions, I decided I was done with this world on my terms. Yoga was the only thing giving me strength, and my final act was to complete yoga teacher training and write a book as my legacy. I had tried to live my parents' path, but it only brought sadness. This was my path, on my own terms.
On my own Terms
Yoga teacher training reshaped my outlook on life. I learned to undo the ideas instilled in me. Shifting my outlook on life. For the first time, I felt vulnerable with new people, who accepted me and told me I was perfect as I was. Traveling alone, I felt more supported than ever before. I connected with more people had deep conversations with people that didn’t even grow up in the States.
Returning to the States, I thought I was "fixed." But the reality of my parents' pressure to settle down and marry resurfaced. A conversation with my mother about marriage in Times Square led to a painful realization: she wanted an image of me that didn't exist. Our relationship has never been the same.
Despite my transformation, old thoughts lingered like a shadow. I reflected on my life every three years, contemplating whether it was time to leave this world. I traveled, took risks, and experienced life with nothing to lose. The contemplation of death became routine until a tragic loss shifted my perspective.
Feeling the Loss
The pandemic brought another shift in my life, marked by the loss of a family member. Losing my sister-in-law brought a pain and sadness my family had never experienced. It showed me the devastation of losing someone, a pain I never wanted to inflict on my loved ones. As a result, I couldn't continue living in the shadow of death.
I write to you not to promote the idea of death, but to share my journey through these feelings. The thoughts have never fully gone away, but I've learned to navigate life, understanding the power of time and self-discovery. Learning to appreciate each step, finding meaning in the struggle, and embracing the path ahead with a newfound purpose.
