Suicide means killing yourself. It is a method of self-inflicted injury to permanently escape reality. Every forty seconds, one person in the world commits suicide; many others contemplate upon it. Quite possibly, every mature adult has considered attempting suicide at least once in his or her lifetime. There are so many reasons for doing it or having the tendency—depression being the main cause. It is not fun to decide to kill yourself; it can be the scariest period in your life. It is a time when everything around you weighs you down. You feel all alone.
Everyday we read about suicide in newspapers. We read the articles only to forget them before reading another news item. Few ponder upon what the person have might gone through before committing suicide. Like many others I too went through such a period at an early age. I found myself squeezed in a bottle that was locked by my own family. Staying at home was like being crucified every hour. Everything became meaningless and I even lost the strength to hope. I felt alone with no one to communicate with. Everyone one was my enemy and responsible for my depression. I belonged to. Suicide was like a dream that could set me free. That dream never came true. But I did go through that journey. ‘Fatalistic tendency’ was the worst part of my life.