I want to live

I stare at myself every morning burning it into my brain. You want to live. You want it. Right?

As humans we have an innate survival instinct. From an evolutionary standpoint, most if not all of our behaviors and physical traits are meant to ensure we survive. We eat because we need nourishment. We sleep because our bodies need rest. We recoil from pain. We run from danger.

So, why is it that my brain is signaling to my body that it doesn’t want to?

In this way, the mind and body can be contradictory. Knowing your body is fighting against the parts of your brain that don’t want to keep you here. The distinction of whether it’s pain, fear, or just pure exhaustion doesn’t make it any less frightening. I learned that people with Bipolar Disorder have a significantly increased risk of suicide compared to the general population, and that suicide can contribute to a substantially shortened lifespan.

Despite the numbers, I look at myself and affirm that there is still a person that wants something.

Maybe it’s not something extraordinary.

Sometimes it’s another morning with my cats. Another meal. Another conversation. Another possibility that I haven’t gotten to experience yet.

I don’t always feel connected to that person, but she’s here.

I know she is, because I keep looking for her.

Looking in the mirror asking the same question.

And the answer is yes, I do want to live.