I wanted to open with I am 100% against suicide. I believe suicide is preventable. I share my story for those who, at this moment, are thinking that its the only option in life. That is so far from the real truth. Learn from what happened to me.
I have written other posts so please check them out.
Suicide is always a topic I hate to write about, but its important for me to continue to analyze my experiences so that when the subject is moved to my memoir The Bipolar Writer, it will be a polished work.
This blog post will be about my last suicide in 2010.
This is a hard one to think and write about because it was the suicide that changed the course of my life up to this point. I can still feel how much I wanted to end my life that day, and yet here I am seven years later writing about what led up to this event.
It’s interesting to note that this suicide attempt happened in the summer of 2010, June to be exact. I write this because my other two major suicide attempts and when the most times in my life I have had suicide idealizations were in the winter months.
The actual event, the hospital stay, in the beginning, the coma, most of what happened after I took a large dosage of my sleeping pills, and Seroquel is really a blur. I was unconscious for most of it, and what I do know came from family members. It was all bad. The doctor basically told my mother I might not survive. There was little hope considering I was in a medically induced coma for three days.
But somehow I got out of it.
The days, weeks, and months leading up to this “event” is also a blur. I remember the major parts but in my mind, its all jumbled because every part of what led me to try to take my life was lost in endless darkness. My thoughts were always dark during this time, but I can remember doing what I call “last things” in the time leading up to the event.
I played my favorite role-playing games for “the last time.”
I spent time with my small group of friends as much I could in the weeks leading up to my suicide attempt “for the last time.”
I watched my favorite television shows for “the last time.”
I listened to all my favorite artist and songs “for the last time.”
I made sure to eat my favorite Japanese foods like sushi and sashimi for “the last time.”
I spent what little money I had left for “the last time.”
About the only thing I didn’t do during this time was to say goodbye to anyone. It was months of thinking, and hoping that I could save myself, but the end result was me losing faith in who I was in that moment. It was a dark place but I was there so often by the time the night came, I felt real peace and serenity when I put those pills in my hand.
I really wanted to die.
I am not proud of this at all, but the fact is this was my life. I was so lost in the endless deep of my depression that I didn’t think about what it would mean if I no longer existed. I failed to grasp that I would be leaving people behind. Important people that loved me. I was selfish. Suicide is a selfish choice. I can say that because three times I made a stupid selfish choice.
But I am here.
And hopefully, I can reach at least one person who believes that suicide is the only answer.
The end of this story is one of hope. First I spent weeks in the hospital for the overdose. Then, a day or two after being released I started having seizures. I had quite a few over two days and then spent more time in the hospital. As I lay there having no control over my life I made the choice to, for the first time, to truly believe that my diagnosis was the right one.
It took over two years but I made good decisions. I got healthy. I made the best decision of my life to go back to school. Its never easy but I am close to finishing my bachelor’s degree. It took some time but I started writing a few years ago and more serious over the last almost two years now. I am writing a memoir. I finished a full-length screenplay and I am close to finishing the novel version. I started this blog which has been my place of solace.
What I want people to take from this blog post is that no matter how dark and deep you are into depression and suicide, it is never the answer to not be a part of this world. People will miss you.
What if I would have succeeded? All the good that has happened in my life and even some of the bad would never have happened. I wouldn’t be here writing to you my fellow bloggers of the mental illness community. I would have never met some of the most amazing people in the world.
There is a reason why most of my blogs end in this saying…
Always Keep Fighting.
You’re worth it to me.
Photo Credit: Jonathan Pendleton
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