Today’s topic is going to be a little more serious than my previous topics.
I will be talking about suicide and mental health awareness, pretty bluntly. And while it has a happy ending -if this topic is in any way triggering for you, please click off.
**And to my family members (and husband) that will probably read this that didn’t know about some things I don’t want you to beat yourself up, thinking you could have helped more. I’m okay now, and you were all so amazing. **
I do talk a good amount on mental health. I’ve talked about my Anxiety and Depression, but never felt I had to go any further than that.
With September being Suicide awareness month, (September 9 – September 15 is National Suicide Prevention Week, with Monday September 10th being recognized as World Suicide Prevention Day) I wanted to bring it up in a new light. I’ve been so proud with how often people bring it up. It never used to get talked about enough – and I feel like more and more people are starting to talk about it. It’s a hard topic to talk about, and it’s really cool to see people finally taking the opportunities to share their own experiences, or even someone they know.
First of all I just want to get out of the way – yes, I have had suicidal thoughts. But I am a lot better now. I took the time to take care of myself. I knew that the thoughts I had were NOT normal, and I didn’t want to have them. Nobody wants to have them. And I am such a wuss. I could never hurt myself no matter how much I wanted to, which I think in my case was really lucky. Haha. I shouldn’t joke about that, but it’s true.
That didn’t stop me from looking for ways. Ways to do it and still feel less pain. Before you freak out, I never attempted. I would be lying if I said I didn’t come close though.
When I started to realize my thoughts were becoming unhealthy, I left the environment I was in. Which helped a lot. Without getting too much into detail, I wasn’t in a healthy environment, and I knew I wasn’t. So leaving was the best option.
I moved in with one of my sisters, who was pretty much the only one at the time who knew I was going through a rough time – except for my boyfriend.
I did feel a little better, but eventually depression caught up to me again. I was having panic attacks almost every night. If you don’t know what a panic attack feels like, it’s basically a feeling of doom. Your chest starts to burn, you can’t breathe. I was sobbing in fear, and sometimes tears wouldn’t even come out, it was just sobs of anguish.
Sometimes when I was home by myself, I tried to find ways to… well, kill myself. (I said I would be blunt)
I googled numerous things. From the least painful of course, because like I said before, I’m a wuss. Couldn’t even consider the possibility of a knife, or choking myself.
But it was the smaller things like, if I could overdose on melatonin, or bleach that I would consider. That seemed like the easiest option. I could drink it before bed, fall asleep and maybe never wake up. And my sister would probably just think I went to work and not come check on me, since I worked mornings. So they’d have no time to save me.
It sounds SO HORRIBLE.
I can’t believe I thought those things before.
During the moments of it happening, I never considered it selfish. I thought I would be doing everyone a favor. I literally thought that. I had convinced myself the world was a better place without me.
I want to share one moment because it was so crazy to me.
I was house-sitting for my sister. They had gone on a trip, along with their friends who lived in the basement. Once in a while, I would go down to feed and check on their puppy. This is relevant, and you’ll see why.
It was an especially hard night for me. It was the night I decided I was going to do it. Life sucked just bad enough that I felt I had to take my own life. So I went with my plan. I was going to chug as much bleach as I could, and see what happened from there. I sat in the kitchen and cried a little. I opened the bleach and sniffed it, trying to convince myself it really didn’t smell that bad, so how could it taste bad?
It took a bit, but finally I gained the courage. I was going to do it.
And I prayed. I knew that what I was doing was not okay, but I didn’t care. So I prayed that God would forgive me. I basically just sobbed and told him I didn’t want to be on the earth anymore. I didn’t want any more pain, or heartache. I wanted to be in heaven. I was going to do it, and as the sassy girl I am, I told Him if it wasn’t meant for me to go, He needed to stop me because I was going to do it.
I put the bottle to my lips, and just before the liquid reached my mouth, there was a loud *BANG* downstairs. It scared the HECK out of me, and took me out of my trance. Suddenly I was just very interested in what happened downstairs. I put the Bleach back in the cabinet and went to go check on the dog.
Another thing to note, is the dog was kept in a Kennel. I only ever took him out to take him outside or to feed him. So part of me was thinking, “Okay, he probably escaped somehow and broke something.”
I get downstairs, and the air vent on the microwave had blown clean off and was on the floor. Kinda random. And NOW I’m thinking, “Well crap, they’re going to think I broke their microwave.” And I couldn’t figure out how to fix it.
And they were all gonna get home later that night. So I realized, when they get home, they’re going to ask me about it. Which led to me thinking, “They’ll come in to check on me… they’ll see.”
And I knew at that moment…
He stopped me.
You can say it’s coincidence, that the air vent just happened to explode off of the microwave for no apparent reason, at the exact moment I was about to take my life. The exact moment I told God to stop me. I don’t think I could see that as coincidence.
And just as I thought, they asked me about it later that night, and I just had to explain I had no idea what happened, and I just heard it pop off.
That was the last time I got close to attempting.
Since then, my Husband took me to see a Doctor and I was prescribed anti-depressants.
That was really hard for a while. Every night while taking one, I would cry and say to myself (and the pill in my hand), “I can’t believe I need you to make me happy.”
That was reoccurring for a while. Until I figured out how to cope with it. I did need them to help me feel happy again. And that is OKAY. They don’t define me or my happiness, but I know for a fact I needed them. And still do. And again, that’s okay.
Maybe you’re in my position, or know someone who is. Be patient. Either way. Be patient with yourself, and with others. You’ll find a way to take care of yourself.
If you have a survival story, please share it with me. Or if you’re looking for a way to help yourself, ask for advice. I know when you’re in the moment, it seems like no one cares. I know it. But once you get passed that- and you WILL – you start to see it. Looking back now, I can’t believe my life was ever like that. I definitely feel so much happier now.
I know this was more of a serious topic, but it’s something I know a LOT of people struggle with. And I’m not afraid to admit I have struggled with it. I used to think it made me weak, but I’ve learned that it’s only made me stronger.
If you get anything out of this, I think I would just like you to remember: if something feels toxic, it probably is. Friends, and yes, even family. It’s totally okay to get out of that toxic situation. Sometimes you have to do whats best for you, and then everything else will be squared away.
Thank you for reading, and please feel free to leave me comments, or send me a personal email. I would love to hear your stories <3
( I should also note this all took place about a year ago, for those worrying) Haha
(Photo does not belong to me)