Thank you for sharing this. I know it probably wasn’t easy to relive some of those painful memories.

Suicide first entered my mind at the age of 14; I obsessed about it almost daily for years. I was first hospitalized for suicidal thoughts when I was 20. I think it is relatively normal for people to question their existence, and maybe even fantasize about suicide- I’ve had years where I was just “passively” suicidal. But at this point I was actively suicidal. I had voiced plans while intoxicated and had been self-harming- my friends were concerned and called the police. I have written several notes over the years and was hospitalized four more times before I actually attempted at the age of 24.

I woke up in ICU, with my wrists handcuffed to a hospital bed. All I saw was an intubation tube being pulled from my throat- I had stopped breathing on my own. They tied my hands down so that I wouldn’t start grabbing at my throat, as would be my natural instinct. It was terrifying, and yet it wasn’t at the same time. My insides matched my outsides, now. I was completely numb to everything, physically and mentally.

I don’t even remember those first three days on the ward. I guess you could say my body and brain needed a break.

Eventually I came to my senses, and things were still the same. I attempted on the ward, with a pair of headphones. They found me with blue lips and a low oxygen level. They were not happy- I spent the night in isolation as punishment.

I attempted twice more after that- Always pills and booze.

I just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. I felt that I was too sensitive and fragile for this world. People hurt me… almost as much as I hurt myself. I’ve lived with depression since my preteen years- my Father has it as well. The trauma and the addiction and the pain just always seemed too much to bear. I, too, felt like I didn’t belong here, chained to this Earth that felt like it was solely full of suffering. To live is to suffer: Isn’t that the human condition?

My last attempt was 8 months ago. I looked up the lethal dosing of a medication I had in my possession. I drove to a remote location, thinking I wouldn’t be found. My husband called our friend who is a cop, and they found me, puking all over myself. I tried to run- I told them to let me go into the woods and die. I had no sense of reality or reasoning. When they took me to the hospital, I was livid. I had failed. I failed again. I thought, What kind of loser can’t even kill themselves?
 
I’m sharing these gritty details with you, because you were so willing to share yours. The idea that suicide is an option was like a demon, constantly on my shoulder: No matter how hard life becomes, there is always a way out of it.

I’ve learned that this is not the case. I wasn’t in my right mind any of these times, and yet somewhere in the back of my mind I still knew that this was not fair to my loved ones, and would only perpetuate the cycle of suffering through them. The pain and the logic were always competing for center stage- It was exhausting.

You are not alone in this fight. You, me, and other survivors of suicide- We are all here for a reason.

Thank you, for giving a voice to those that struggle with the obsession to leave this world. Even if it’s difficult, it’s so important.