How many people kill themselves everyday? Whatever statistics you find, surely they include neither those who once tried without killing ourselves nor those seriously contemplating that option.
How many of us are not part of statistics simply because there is no census counting citizens with a shit life? If such a ranking existed I would have been within the top 10 for quite some time.
I wonder whether some people don’t want to die. They just may not want to live the way they do. Can’t blame them. After all, living a life which does not belong to us is like killing ourselves a little every day.
If you are having funny thoughts have a coffee with me first. You have all the time in the world.
My name is Francia Iniguez.
I was born in Bilbao in 1976. From that moment until the early 1990s I lived. Between then and the beginnings of the 21st century, I pretended I was living.
Sometime within this latter period I took a day off to kill myself. I got into my bathtub with the intention of slashing the wrists and paradoxically came out of there without cutting anything. Almost. This was very useful, since otherwise this book would have never reached you.
From that point I lived again, spending some of my latest years in the UK.
In 2018 I met a suicide apprentice and tried to persuade him to change occupations.
Today is the day it is, and you are reading this simply because you, he, and I are still alive.