A Lone Prayer

I was 17 and it was February 3, 2010. everything should have been wonderful. I had been in therapy since May 2009 and on medication since June 2009. On paper every thing looked fanatic, but it wasn't.
Every week I when to the doctor and my therapist and there were good and bad times. About every month I was prescribed a new anti-depressant, or the dosage was increased. First it was Prozac 20 mg, then Prozac 30 mg, then Prozac 40mg, then Lexapro 10 mg and by my attempt I was on Lexapro 20 mg and Abilify 20 mg.
My therapist was a heavy set older women who I really liked. However despite all the time and effect put into me I would deal with depression and cutting every month or every other month.
By that winter I wanted to give up. I knew it would take time for me to get over depression and cutting, but it was still taking too long.I wondered if there was any reason to try, or if I was just meant to be depressed for the rest of my life.
I would daydream about suicide like my peers daydreamed about their lovers. I made a plan, but it was more of a back up plan really. Once the doctor had prescribed me Vistril (an anti-anxiety medication)and it had collected. By my attempt I almost had 100 pills. I dreamed of opening the capsules into a bottle of water and drinking it all down. However I wouldn't kill myself because people love me and would be sad if I died, but there was a breaking point.
On the afternoon of February 3, 2010 and earlier in the day I was supposed to be taking care of my 3-year-old sister, but I was too tired. That winter I was always exhausted due to constant UTI and depression. Ironically my step-mother dealt with depression too and was too tired to take care of her so it always feel back on me.
So during the day I left my sleeping sister in her play pen (she hated leaving it, so we always kept her in there). While in there the cat attacked her.
My father came home and yelled at me. I had let down and hurt my sister and becasue of this my dad told me he could never love me the same.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
When they were done with me I ran upstairs, pored some pills into my hand and took them. It was probably 15 pills. I wrote my suicide note and when back to my pill bottle. I took a couple more when my phone rang, it was my grandmother.
She called me to see if I was ok. My brother told her what happened and my grandmother was aware of my mental state so she called to check up on me. I lied and said yes. After hanging up I was so angry I almost through the phone put the window but instead I sat down in front of the mirror and looked at myself.
I wanted to die, but my brother and grandmother seemed worried and afraid for me. '15 pills could kill me, but that's very unlikely', I thought.
"Dear Heavenly Father,"I prayed out loud, never looking away from the mirror. "I pray that what ever you want will happen. Take care of my family and welcome me Home with open arms if I die. If I don't die..." I wasn't sure what I say so I ended with, "Amen."
I stood up an went to bed. The next morning I woke feeling fine, so I started packing my things so I could move out my Dad's house.
emmy1127 emmy1127
18-21, F
3 Responses Jan 16, 2013

After this I moved out of my Dad's house and things became very better. Medication and therapy helped, but what really helped was removing myself from a hurtful and poisonous. I was living in a home I was never wanted at. In moved in with my grandmother and I'm so happy now.

Are you better? Every night when I go to bed I hope I will not wake up........

He took away my suicidal thoughts too.. I hope all is fine with you