Why I tried to end my life – and why I won’t again

‘I can’t tell them. They’ll think I’m crazy’


Remembering back, it all felt like time stopped existing, yet each day was a repeat. I wasn’t myself, and continue to fight a darkness that awakens most nights. It’s true how depression places you in the real world when you feel you’re not part of it. It’s more true how suicide enhances that by a milestone because you’re devoured by hopelessness and ending it all.

I was trapped in a horrendous relationship. My nights consisted of a constant battle with him while attempting to complete homework when I physically couldn’t. I spent most nights in bed wondering where’d my life gone. I’d forget to eat. I’d never leave my room unless I had to get out for class. I wasn’t in touch with any of my friends because they were all caught up in their lives. I hid.

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My days grew exponentially worse as I was basically living in a split between reality and my nightmare. I was scared to tell others because I felt like a freak. My parents don’t believe mental illness is serious. I thought all happy relationships shadowed an evil. I didn’t think I could escape because the world would grow worse. I thought I’d lose all my friends all while failing out of school because I didn’t have the energy to put effort in my studies or my friends. Every moment I fantasized about death because I couldn’t handle the pain of living.

One day I was at home instead of my dorm because of my ex. We fought the entire day on the phone because I didn’t want to be with him. I felt withered because I felt like I had no-one else to go to.

I knew love could hurt but I couldn’t withstand the damage done. Though my parents had given me so much, I knew anything they said would never help me because they refuse to understand. I felt my friends would have been terrified because they wouldn’t know how to help.

I spent most of the day hiding in my room and once my family left for work at night, I attacked my medicine cabinet. I didn’t want to take too much of a certain medicine so I grabbed as many painkillers as I saw. I ran back to my bed, water bottle in one hand and pills all over the bed. I was blasting music to mask the tears in case siblings arrived. I began counting each pill.

“You’ll definitely be dead when they arrive,” I thought.

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I hoped if I did wake up at all, I’d at least wake up in a hospital.

Next day arrives and I awake in my bed as if I’d arisen from the depths of hell. I had a foul taste in my mouth. I was sweaty, and completely dizzy with the worst stomach pains. I felt the world spinning and I couldn’t even walk because of how unstable I was. My mom asked, “How are you?” and I struggled to say, “I’m fine.”

I was disappointed. I failed. And there I was, suffering even more.

As the day continued, my mom offered to drive me to my dorm so I could go to class later. The minute she dropped me off, I ran to my bed and shriveled up. My stomach pains were excruciating. I called up my mother in panic after a couple of hours and she said to call the ambulance. I’m brought to a hospital where the EMT’s walked me around because I was too dizzy to see straight. I’m crying because I’m worried I’d have to tell the doctor and they’d tell my mom. They were all freaked out because of all the pain I was physically in. I was given morphine which had no affect on me. I was also given a set of pills to swallow for my dizziness which I gagged on because my body was already so poisoned up.

“I can’t tell them. They’ll think I’m crazy,” I continued telling myself.

So I never told them. To this day I continue to suffer dizzy spells and random stomach pains. Though the thoughts are endless, positivity is everywhere. I broke away from that poisonous relationship and surround myself with people who are beautiful and care for me. Days can be rough, but no one should face what I did to understand how precious and fragile our lives are. I won’t be a hypocrite and say I’m healed, because I’m not perfect, and no one is.

I find salvation through my music and through friends who want to continue their journey with me through a band. I’ve been going to as many shows as possible to awaken my creativity that was nearly put to rest. I’ve let myself swing through the local scene which allowed me to experience many different sounds through countless, amazing bands. I’ve been singing things I never thought I’d be able to. I’ve met my idol, an amazing vocalist and lyricist Garrett Russell, who reassured me that everything will be okay, and how he believes I will be successful. I have hope, and I have connections I never dreamed of gaining. The pieces are falling into place, and I never thought I could find a group of people who had the same vision as me. As quickly as I fell, it’s possible to regain strength and begin living.

Happiness and love isn’t as easy as sadness and hate, but it sure as hell is worth the effort when you’re lost in a garden instead of darkness.

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