Carter H.
Photography by Mason Schlopy
Dear Reader,
Carter’s letter describes his personal journey with suicidal ideation. We advise those who may be triggered by this topic to practice caution when reading this letter. If you are struggling, please reach out to one of the resources listed on our Resources Page.
Sincerely, The IfYoureReadingThis Syracuse Team
If you're reading this, it's okay to not have it all figured out.
In February of 2022, my life changed. I had contemplated suicide for the first time in years.
In just a few hours I watched my life and my family fall apart in front of me. For the sake of my family’s privacy, I will not disclose the details of what happened – only how I felt, how I reacted, what I learned, and how I grew from that night.
How I felt:
As the events of the night got worse and worse, scarier than ever before, I realized our family dynamic would never be the same. Instead of allowing myself to feel scared, I suppressed my feelings to protect the feelings of others. And I failed. All I wanted was to protect them, but I could not. On the way home from the event, I was filled with rage. I was seeing red, hyperventilating, and pulling my hair to stop myself from making the situation worse. Arguing continued and the space became anything but safe. I couldn’t help it. Every emotion, every word, and feeling I had been holding back for years spewed out of my mouth. That rage turned to screaming and for the first time in a while, I truly felt the pain I had been longing to feel instead of the numbness I had become acclimated to. After I stopped, the car went dead quiet. The car came to a slow stop. Tears streamed down my face with shuddered breaths. Everybody in the car truly saw me for the first time. They saw the pain and hurt I had hidden from them. The pain and hurt I tried to hide for so long. I tried to stay strong for some of them and protect them from others, but I couldn’t. I failed.
How I reacted:
After the car stopped, I got out. I got out and refused to hear what anyone had to say. I had ripped my jacket and sweatshirt off in the car when I was overheating and couldn’t breathe, but now I was walking in the cold snow, with nearly nothing on. I wasn’t even worried about that, though. The only thing I could worry about was how attractive the idea of nothing was – how all of my problems would go away if I went away. Clouded by fear of the future, anger about what happened, and disappointment in myself, all I wanted was to not exist. I said to myself, “It’s not worth it anymore. I can’t be here anymore.”
I stopped. The mindless walking I had done for 20 minutes paused as if I was hit by a wave of realization about what I had just thought. I thought about suicide. I have battled ongoing depression and anxiety for years, but suicide had not seriously crossed my mind until then. I started crying again. My breath had been taken from me as if I had been punched in the gut, and I broke down.
What I learned:
For so long I have considered myself an unwaveringly positive person who loves to serve others with gratitude and happiness. I pride myself on being a person anyone can count on, no matter how well I know them. My goal for so long has been to make my family and friends proud, and for them to see me as a person they can love, trust, and enjoy being with. I was willing to sacrifice what I had worked on for so long because I felt weak and felt as if I let people down. Because of the pressure I had put on myself for so long to hide my emotions and act positive even if I never felt that way, I had broken myself down to feeling worthless.
For the first time ever, I put myself before others, but not in the way I should have. Instead of giving myself peace for all of the positives I tried to do, I discredited myself for not being who I thought I was supposed to be. Long story short, I was wrong. Instead of putting my well-being first, I put my shortcomings first, as if they were all that mattered. What I realized after calming down was how wrong I was to do so.
How I grew:
To the reader, you are imperfect, but THAT IS OKAY. So am I, and I have learned to be so proud of that. I didn’t realize that until it was almost too late. Nobody has everything figured out. Our imperfections are what makes us unique. We are meant to fail or else we could never learn to celebrate our successes. Actually, I have realized that imperfections are what make us stronger. When I held myself to the dangerous standard of trying to protect the safety and feelings of others that night, I forgot to protect the safety and feelings of myself. I needed to have it all figured out that night, and I didn’t. But that is okay, because I have now gained the strength I thought I had at the time, but was actually without for so long.
Today, I tell myself positive things in the mirror each morning. I tell myself that my kindness and positivity are enough; things that should not be diluted by my shortcomings, because it is the truth. Unexpected bad things will come, but we have to know ourselves well enough to know that they are not our burden. I text my family every day to tell them how much I love and appreciate them. I allow myself to smile, laugh, cry, and just feel, as that’s what we are supposed to do. I continue trying to be the positive person I strive to be because I now know that everyone needs a little more positivity in their lives. I give myself daily goals and allow for the possibility of error because standards of perfection only stunt our growth. I am imperfect, but there is beauty and peace in that. There is nothing more important than preserving your peace and well-being.
Carter H., Syracuse University
Connect With Us
To follow IfYoureReadingThis at Syracuse on Instagram, get in touch with our chapter, and learn about more resources available to Syracuse students, visit our chapter’s homepage.
AUTHOR CONTACT
This author has opted to allow readers who resonate with their story to contact them. If you would like to speak to the author of this letter about their experience, please use the form below.
