They come as whispers on the wind. Creaks from the walls. Screams from the darkness. I carry suicidal thoughts around with me everywhere I go. They are ingrained in me. I am one of the many who must constantly deal with suicidal thoughts.

The thoughts started becoming apparent when I was sixteen. They increased as my mental illness became more apparent. At times they have dominated my life.

It has now been close to three years since my last hospital stay, and the suicidal thoughts have grown quieter. But they haven’t gone away. Perhaps they never will.

I am learning to live with these thoughts. They are not very bothersome when I am doing well mentally. Just whispers that pass through my mind, and then drift away.

My suicidal thoughts get louder when life gets hard. The whispers gain clarity. Harmless thoughts become ideas. The thoughts bring a sense of comfort. Reminding me that there is a way out should things get too hard. An emergency exit of sorts.

There are misconceptions about people who live with chronic suicidal thoughts. Just because I have suicidal thoughts does not mean I am in danger. You don’t have to be scared for my safety. I do my best to manage the thoughts and I have access to help when I am having trouble.

Suicidal thoughts are a symptom of my illness. No more, no less. I can still function, I can still be productive, I can still contribute.

I am more than an accident waiting to happen.

I live with chronic suicidal thoughts. But they do not control me. They can’t stop me from surviving. They can’t stop me from living.

So, I’ll keep on.