I've had so many conversations about suicide with friends and family, most follow the line of "I could never do that.", "How could you ever want to end your life?" Yet I wake up nearly everyday and my initial thought is — I have been squandering my years on earth. I often think, someone who didn't get the chance to live should have my time. There has to be someone who deserves it more, who would appreciate it more and cherish the time they had with people who cared about them. Every year on my birthday I wonder why I am celebrating. Not to induce sympathy. I am celebrating a birth that brought tremendous anguish, pain and life disruption to my parents. I sit here as I type this and fear people will think I am seeking sympathy and I am not. I don't feel sorry for myself, I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I don't expect people to understand. I have never shared anything like this. I know people have it much worse. I just needed to open up my heart.
I tried committing suicide almost a year ago. I was hospitalized for about 3 days before going into a psychiatric hospital for a week. It scared the hell out of me. I promised myself I never wanted to end up there again. The only people that know about this are my parents and my sister I was too ashamed to tell my best friend or any other family members. I did actually tell one friend from online but she completely laughed at me. Told me I was such a wuss trying to commit suicide and then telling my parents about it afterwards. I was scared. I tried overdosing on 90 different pills. I woke up (I was so upset it hadn't worked). But a few hours later I started feeling very sick, headache, my lips were turning bluish, and I was so cold. I didn't want to die a slow painful death.
Anyways I was doing good for a few months. I was on an antidepressant. But the medication made me extremely hungry. All I thought about was food. I wanted off the pill but my psychiatrist told me to just give it some time. By December I had gained 10 pounds so I decided the next time I saw my doctor I would tell him I wanted off it for good. He prescribed me new medication but my mom hasn't filled it in. She hates the thought of me being on medication since I've been on so many in the past for different health reasons. And she monitors my medication. I'm not allowed to handle meds whatsoever and all our medication is locked somewhere. So I've been off medication since the beginning of December.
New Years is when reality sort of hit me and the depression came back. The reason I had tried to kill myself in the first place was because I was stressed out in school. At the time I was majoring in criminology but I figured out I didn't want to major in it anymore. I wanted to drop out of my criminology class and my mom was upset. She started questioning me about what was I going to do for the rest of my life, she told me, "if you aren't in school or working I'm kicking you out, do you want to work at McDonald's?" It wasn't just the stress and the pressure but also because I don't have any friends I never had a boyfriend or been kissed, I'm not smart or pretty. I felt like a complete failure (I still think I am).
So now I'm back to my depressed and suicidal self again and I hate it. I thought I was going to be okay but here it is almost a year to the date of trying to commit suicide and I want to do it again. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I'm 19 years old. I'm a burden to my parents, no friends, and also suffering from bad anxiety lately. I don't want to tell them because I know they'll be
disappointed and just worry about me. But I have no one to talk to. I don't even like my psychiatrist—she doesn't do anything but prescribe me medication.
At times I feel like I'll be okay. I'm going to a good school and I already figured out what I want to major in, meet some people, get out of the house, and be independent. But I'm so afraid! I have anxiety thinking about leaving my parents and my home. I'm afraid I won't meet anyone and I'll be even more depressed and actually go through with killing myself since my parents won't be around.
I just don't know anymore. I wish I had died that day so I won't have these feelings anymore but at the same time I'm grateful because I do love my family even though they treat me like shit but I still care about them. They mean the world to me.
A/N:
I'm so sorry this is so long. But thank you for reading.
- Hazelle
