Being suicidal and surviving is actually such a sisyphean task.
Everyday you push that boulder (the urge to die) up that hill (The fucking day), because if you don't it'll crush you and end you. And by the time you made it a new day starts and you have to do it all over again. And over. And over. And over.
Maybe one day you'll make the boulder disappear, but until then you have to push, to fight, every single fucking second. Sometimes it harder, somtimes easier, but you cannot stop.
And when I get tired of it, when I want to just sit down, let it crush me and find my peace I think about all the people I love. My friends, my partner. I think about their laugh and their smile and their love and how I want more. I've only started living with fifteen and I'm not ready to stop seven years into it.
So I let myself be powered by love like a fuckin anime protagonist and I keep on pushing this boulder up this hill another day.