Words Of The Heart

Suicide Part 2

5/2/17

June 9th 2016, a day that started much the way that most days start. Wake up, take a shower, get dressed and leave the house. Today was a day that I didn't think I would remember a month or even a year later. But unfortunately not everything goes as planned.

I was still just as depressed as I had been just a month prior, the only difference that day was that I was seeking treatment by going to see my physcologist. My depression had overwhelmed me, my mind and body were exhausted, I was at my wits end. The occurence of self harm from the previous month unavoidably evident, my arms still sore from my healing wounds.

My doctor put me on an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication. Unfortunately medication doesn't solve things overnight, nor does it fix them right away. I really wanted it to, but I knew that it wouldn't. After getting home, I took my meds and was hoping for the best later on. Finally...A relief from the battle plaguing my mind. But that day didn't end the way anybody ever would have expected it to.

I went out with some friends later that night to have some fun, to get my mind off everything. Fun, a word I had such a hard time believing in at the time. We went over to Big Al's to go bowling, though I did something I shouldn't have. I drank three heavily mixed drinks, ignored the caution of a dear friend whilst drinking my third. A friend amongst many that I had isolated myself from. Isolation, not done purposely, was one of the many reasons I ignored reasoning. My sense of reasoning withing the past two months was non existent. I felt broken inside, something medication never seemed to fix.

I laughed the whole ride back to my apartment. Everything seemed fine... And then I got home, and I was alone once more. All alone, the darkness in my mind creeping back, twisting my thoughts, spreading lies and poison throughout my entire being. It hurt, there are no words I can use to perfectly describe the agony that I was in mentally. So I sat in my chair, unscrewed the bottle of rum from my freezer and began to drink. It was mixed at first, and then I drank it straight using my shot glass. And there I sat, miserable as could be. All my demons, all the darkness, all the lies I've ever told myself, all of it...started consuming my broken mind.

My boxcutter from the previous month, was already well within reach, so I started cutting myself. Over and over, reopening every wound that had healed or that was still healing, and then began cutting deeply into my wrists. I began bleeding heavily. For me, the cutting prior to this night didn't numb my mental anguishment. My thought process was "your leg is caught in a bear trap and someone is pinching you, what do you feel more?" (or something like that)

But for me, the only overwhelming thoughts running through my mind were, "I want to die. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to stop hurting." The cuts were getting deeper, and I started bleeding even more, and it was everywhere. All over my chair, on my jeans, on my shirt and everything I touched. I felt so numb, and felt so cold... and then at some point beyond my recollection I reached out to someone. If Amanda hadn't come, if she hadn't been there...these words would never have been written, because I wouldn't be here.

I don't know what our conversation that night had previously been about, the only thing I remember from it was typing "help" with the last sliver of will left in my body. And she came, she came straight away, not knowing what to expect. The first thing she did was hold me/hug me, and spoke in a voice to me that I never want hear again. The things she said, I cannot recall, I felt so numb, she led me to the sink and began to wash my cuts. As I washed she began to look for a first aid kit...which I didn't have...bit I did have old bandages, that barely stayed on. I was still bleeding, she was throwing away all the alcohol and sharp things away, but I still didn't want to be there and got ahold of a shaving razor and started to cut myself with it, she quickly got it away. There were a few more things that happened after that, but they are hard to completely describe, though the words are not out of reach.

In the days that followed, I went and saw a doctor who made sure that my cuts weren't becoming infected. Continued on taking my medication, started exercising, reconnected with those whom I had isolated myself from and saw my counselor. June 9th 2016 changed my life in many ways. I have daily visible reminders etched into my skin, the strength and love of an individual that I can no longer picture my life without. As well as the strength and support of friends and family that are always here for me, no matter what life throws at me. My perspective has changed from that fateful day. I have spent the past year thinking outwardly, as I have spent so many years trapped in the dungeon within the dark part of my mind.