On July 23, 2011, I tried to kill myself. Seeing as I am still alive, it is obvious that I did not succeed in my endeavor. I got about halfway through the pills that I was taking, freaked out, woke my sister, and called 911. After having my stomach pumped at 1:00 am (which I don't recommend, because it is the farthest thing from an enjoyable experience I can think of) I sat in a hospital room falling in and out of sleep until being transferred to a Mental Health Treatment Center.
I could go on and on about the experiences I had there, relive some of the lows and exhalt in the highs, but that is for another time. Right now, I just feel glad to be alive. Ironically, the number of pills I had planned on taking would not have killed me, but it doesn't change the fact that I wanted my life on this world to end. I was not thinking rationally, but there was some logic in the arguments I had laid in front of myself during the previous month. Yes, this was a plan that had been in readiness for that long, just waiting for the right time. Now I can't believe that I wanted to throw my life away.
Things haven't miraculously changed. I'm still depressed, still anxious, and still have the same problems that I had before. The lonliness of feeling unloved still rears its ugly head, and in my self-conciousness I question whether people are sincere in their kind words to me. Yet I feel hope now. I have made plans for my life that I was afraid to before. I am leaving a situation that I need to get out of. I am setting out to blaze my own trail under the loving support of my favorite couple (you know who you are :) ) and it holds the possibility of things beyond what I could make happen on my own.
So two hours after my discharge, I say that I am going to live my life...and live it abundantly. I'm glad I failed at killing myself.
I'll be on here more later with more musings and details, as well as outcomes of things I have yet to face. Also, in two weeks, I plan to be in a different state...so things are going to be interesting.
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