top of page


Square Hamburger Menu

Train Tracks

DISCLAIMER: This article solely expresses the author’s views, experiences, and opinions.

This article contains mature subject matter, including the graphic description of an act of suicide.

This article discusses suicide for the purpose of sharing the author’s experiences and opinions in an effort to help individuals who can relate to the author, not to sensationalize or encourage acts of self-harm or suicide attempts. If you or someone you know is considering, or have attempted, acts of self-harm or suicide, please reach out to a trained professional as quickly as possible by calling a suicide hotline or 911/your local emergency number.

Please consult a mental healthcare provider before creating or changing your treatment/therapeutic plan.

Reader discretion is advised.


The train was delayed. I joined my restless fellow commuters alongside the stretch of platform parallel to the train tracks. The strip of yellow paint warned of the dangers of crossing through to the darkness that awaited me on the other side. An invisible shield cloaked in a thick line of visible yellow paint; a wall that would not be strong enough to restrain my dark thoughts from becoming a grim reality. The colour of the sun confined to a strip of caution painted onto the ground - perhaps to encourage me to think ‘happy thoughts”. It cautioned me, however, into taking a few big steps back, positioning me behind the designated yellow border. “What purpose does this border serve?” I thought to myself. I leaned forward as my overbearing curiosity hijacked my train of thought. I looked to my left; people wearing sweaters with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, people wearing headphones - big ones, perhaps to filter out the sound of exasperated people -, people whose eyes darted left and right surveying their surroundings just in case. “But just in case what?”

My curiosity persisted to ask. I could feel the oblivion that sheltered me. It was like my personal cautionary umbrella that I carefully held onto to protect me from the daily intrusive reminders of my once happiness turned dark. I could feel it pull away as the train on the other side arrived, bringing with it an aggressive gust of wind. My eyes darted back from my hypervigilance to the yellow strip in front of me. In a daze, I took two steps forward. I could feel the eyes of some of my fellow commuters watching me. I stopped and slowly looked over the edge, onto the tracks, almost hesitantly, as if there was a part of me that was still afraid of my last fall into the abyss that I managed to crawl out from. I made it out to the other si