I never wanted to kill myself, I only wanted my pain to stop
I wanted to end my life to escape the pain, but I survived. This is how I recovered when I thought it was impossible.
“I was in so much pain, I didn’t believe recovery was possible."
I used to think about suicide every day, so I understand how consuming these thoughts can be.
One evening, when I was 22, my thoughts, driven by depression, became so severe and relentless that they turned into action.
This article shares the story of the night I tried to kill myself and the strategies that enabled my long-term recovery.
If you’re struggling right now, our page on getting immediate support will guide you through using crisis lines/chats or deciding if you need to call 911 for immediate assistance.
Suicide started as a fantasy. I used to imagine it often, never believing that one day I would try to end my life. The thoughts came most often from feeling trapped by bullying and harassment in high school. When life got down, I imagined suicide as a way to escape these feelings, so I could at least feel some sense of control over my life.
In my third year of university, I started to become severely depressed. Any joy I had known felt fake, as if I had never been happy. I thought I had tried everything: counseling, medication, diet, exercise. Yet everything inside me was knotted in pain that wouldn’t go away. I just wanted my pain to stop.
Eventually, I became tired of living and I decided I couldn’t do this anymore. I wanted to end things, but I convinced myself to sleep on it one last time. When I woke up, the pain was even worse. I tried to think of easy or painless ways to die, but I didn’t want to leave surviving up to chance.
So the next evening, I found myself standing at the top of a bridge feeling excruciatingly tired, sad, and beaten. Suicide was no longer a comforting abstract thought.
The urge to survive is at the foundation of all life, and it takes something catastrophic to rob someone of their will to live–convincing them that death is the only escape from their torment.
When there was a break in the headlights, I turned and leapt over the railing.
In that moment, suicide was supposed to be a final misguided act of compassion. I was ending my life, to escape my pain.
But when I hit the water below, I didn’t die.
As I regained consciousness, I was flooded with anger and hopelessness. But then adrenaline and fear kicked in. The survival instincts I had suppressed on the bridge surged back to life. With broken bones and internal injuries, I began to swim.
I was incredibly lucky to survive my suicide attempt—lucky to recover from my injuries and to be given a second chance to heal from depression. Most importantly, I was lucky to learn that I was wrong —that the pain wasn’t permanent, and that I was not beyond recovery.
Reflecting on my journey, I’ve put together a list of the most crucial factors in my long-term recovery.
1. Should I Kill Myself? Understanding How These Thoughts Take Over
When we think about something repeatedly, we strengthen the connections in our mind, much like carving out a walking trail. At first, it might feel like hacking through a dense forest to create something barely visible. But over time, with repeated thoughts, that trail can evolve into a single-lane road, then a two-way street, and eventually, a 16-lane superhighway. For me, thoughts about ending my life had become a superhighway—well-worn, automatic, and overwhelming.
To escape these thoughts, I had to challenge them and actively disengage. I had to stop myself from speeding down those mental highways and let them go. As I stopped reinforcing those pathways, my mind gradually began to heal. It was like an abandoned road being reclaimed by nature—cracks filling with grass, roots crumbling the pavement, and trees and vegetation taking over.
It took time and patience, but eventually, my mind became a safe space—one where I could carve out new, healthier paths and begin to thrive again.
2. Believing My Recovery (Not Suicide) Was Inevitable
In the overwhelming hours after my attempt, I felt an unexpected sense of relief and happiness to be alive. Seeing my family in the hospital brought a joy I hadn’t experienced in months—feelings I didn’t think were possible.
While this was only a brief reprieve from the weight of my depression, it proved that my mind and body were still capable of feeling well. Despite having believed that suicide was the only way to end my pain, I now knew I was wrong. I clung tightly to this realization.
From that moment on, every small effort—each therapy session, every time I mustered the strength to get out of bed, and every step I took on a walk outside—felt like part of something bigger. I was no longer prolonging my pain; I was leading myself toward recovery.
3. Learning Strategies to Survive Thoughts of Ending My Life
Thoughts about hurting yourself are incredibly difficult to understand and deal with. It’s especially hard to feel safe when thoughts of wanting to die seem to follow you around all day.
After my attempt, I still found myself in a dark place, but I began to find and practice strategies to manage thoughts like ‘I can’t do this anymore’ in the moment.
Techniques like deep breathing, visualizations, stepping away from danger, creating a safety plan, and reaching out for support helped me stay grounded and safe, even when I felt overwhelmed.
Through persistence and practice, I grew better at managing these thoughts. Gradually, they loosened their grip and returned less and less often.
4. Learning to Stop Listening to Depression
Before my attempt, I had started to recognize that depression was distorting my mood and thoughts. What I didn’t fully understand was how deeply it warped my memories and drained my sense of hope.
Depression has a way of magnifying the negative while erasing the positive. Small setbacks felt insurmountable, and I had gotten so used to judging myself and labeling myself a failure that I didn’t realize how often I was doing it. Though these thoughts had become increasingly automatic, they weren’t reflections of reality–they were distorted by depression.
Learning to recognize and understand common negative thought patterns helped pull me away from these thoughts and instead focus on what I could control – the small, manageable steps I could take each day.
We have an article on how to reframe these kinds of thoughts, along with an entire self-guided course to help you build and strengthen these fundamental skills.
5. Prioritizing and Maintaining Healthy Habits
As I began to understand more about depression, I learned how deeply connected stress, sleep, diet, social life, and physical health are to our mental health. Depression affects all of these areas—but it’s not a one-way street. Improving these aspects of our lives can also help fight back against depression.
Establishing healthier habits, especially around sleep and physical activity, helped a lot more than I had imagined. Small changes—like keeping a consistent bedtime or going for a daily walk—laid the foundation and became some of the first steps on my road to recovery.
6. Leaving Shame Behind
One of the main reasons I waited so long to reach out for help was that I was ashamed of being depressed and thinking about killing myself. Like many guys, I thought depression meant weakness, and reaching out meant admitting defeat.
But having a mental health issue is no different from having any other serious illness, like cancer or diabetes. There is no shame in being depressed—it’s not your fault, and it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.
When I finally reached out, people were far more supportive than I had expected (which makes sense, given that I had been imagining worst-case scenarios). Fighting depression became much easier once I no longer had to hide what I was going through from my friends and family and could instead lean on them for support.
7. Learning Not To Let Thoughts of Wanting to Die Back In
These days, when thoughts or feelings of hopelessness arise, I do my best to disengage before they take hold. Through mindfulness, I’ve learned to view these thoughts as temporary mental events rather than truths I need to act on. Instead of engaging with or analyzing them, I simply observe them from a distance, knowing they will pass if I don’t give them my attention.
This practice helps me create space between myself and the thoughts, preventing them from escalating or pulling me into a negative spiral.
Mindfulness is a powerful skill– one I regret not learning sooner. I used to dismiss it because meditation sounded lame, mystical, or unmanly, but now I recognize how practical a skill it can be.
Being mindful is like standing up to a bully by refusing to engage. When we acknowledge their presence without giving them our attention, we take away their power. By focusing instead on the present moment—our surroundings, our breath—we shift our energy away from the negative thoughts and regain control.
We have an article that provides an overview of mindfulness, as well as a comprehensive course with guided audio files to help you stay present, regulate emotions, step back from difficult thoughts, and build emotional resilience.
I didn’t think I’d ever get better—but here I am, more than 15 years later, living proof that recovery is possible, even after wishing I was dead.
My recovery began with small, steady steps. It came with showing myself compassion when self-hate consumed me, seeking help when I wanted to isolate, and being patient with myself through the frustration of setbacks.
Even when progress felt slow, I kept going. I learned that recovery isn’t a straight line; it requires persistence to navigate the ups and downs.
If you’re struggling with thoughts of ending your life, please hold on to hope. Even if you can’t feel it now, recovery is possible.
If you are having thoughts of hurting yourself right now, talking about them is one of the most powerful ways to weaken their hold.
Crisis and chat lines are available with people who want to help.
