A Second Chance

Every Thursday I go to a therapist, and there he always asks me the same questions.
Have you ever attempted suicide?
Do you currently have suicidal thoughts?
Do you want to harm yourself or others?

Never did I think that I'd ever answer 'yes' to any of these, until my junior year of high school.

So much was going on around that time, and to be honest, anyone would have a hard time staying positive.
One of my close friends was killed in a car accident.
Another was diagnosed with Leukemia and wasn't going to live long.
I hate my family to the point of running away, but the friend I ran to called my family to come get me.
My grades were slipping, and it seemed to be all my mother cared about.
All my parents did was yell and scream and then take it out on me.
I was starting to have delusions.
The boy I loved met another girl and thought of me as the perfect person to go to for advice.
I was having nightmares of only the man who raped me, EVERY. NIGHT.
I was so fed up with it.
living. Breathing. EVERYTHING.
So I tried to end it all.

I took three bottles of medication up to my room-one huge bottle of 800 mg pain killers, a bottle of sleeping medicine, and my father's strong painkillers.
I locked my door, and took every one of the pills.
Even though I felt sick not even halfway through, I didn't stop. The smell and flavor of the medicine was terrible and scared me, almost like it was trying to make me stop. As if I was a picky child not wanting to eat or something.
And it drove me crazy.
I couldn't even do this. The thought that I couldn't die is what drove me to take more.

Soon every pill was gone, and I was already starting to feel drowsy.
I started to cry, thinking that it was finally going to be over, that I would finally die...
When suddenly I felt it.
Overwhelming fear.
I wanted to die, don't get me wrong.
But at that moment when it was too late, I became so terrified that I raced from my house, and ran to a friends house who lived down the street.
By the time I got there, I was so beat up and bloody from not being able to stand up straight and see clearly, that my friend started to scream when he saw me. He thought that I was attacked.
I stared up at him, and shook my head-his screaming and yelling was hurting my ears, which I thought was odd considering how much drugs I had in my system.

That day went on for ages, and if I talked about everything that happened, it would take too long.

But one thing is for certain.
I didn't want to die.
Right up until the last second, I thought I did, but when it was almost too late, it hit me-This was NOT the way to fix my problems.
If there is a God, then he was probably furious with me, for trying to take my own life, but he still saved me.
Gave me this second chance.

I wanted to talk about this, to stop anyone considering suicide.
When people talk about suicide, or joke about it, it drives me crazy.
Because they don't know.
They don't know how terrifying it is to feel yourself slipping away.
To feel yourself start to shut down, and think that there's nothing you can do about it.

I truly felt that I wanted to die...
But in the end I was wrong.
I lived, but others may not be so lucky.
MockingMay MockingMay
18-21, F
2 Responses Jan 8, 2013

It's weird how we work. This didn't happen to me, because I knew I wasn't going to die. The thing that stopped me was that the cops were at my house. I had almost cut that crucial vein in my wrist, but I was a bit too slow. When they we're knocking at our door, I just gave up. But at the same time, I too realized that I didn't really want to die.

It's so odd. How we change when it's almost too late. I'm glad you made it and are here now. I think this story is going to help a lot of people. :)

I know, we are so determined to die, but something stops us.
I am glad you are okay, and that you didn't die. :)

U r so young to feel that way but I understand I am52 and I wish I was died so your story helped thanks