This is my story…

Life might be hard but death is more painful. Don’t let
it take for an attempted suicide to let u know there are reasons and people
there for you. For me it did. I took enough Tylenol pm to kill three people,
the more the sooner it would be over. I didn’t think there was any reason for
me to carry on, so I thought this was my best option. I thought maybe I could
start a new life, a better one. Or maybe I could just make sure my friends and
family lived well. At that point I started to cry. Why couldn’t I have a good
life, a life worth living? Why couldn’t I be happy? Why couldn’t I be loved and
cared for? Am I not good enough? Will I ever be? I laid down and thought about
the life I could have in the future. I wanted to be a doctor, an
anestheseologist. I want to live in a big house with a family. A little happy
family that you see on Disney movies, with a husband, son, and daughter. I
wanted to go to Harvard and win medical and writing awards. I wanted to go to
Australia. So many things I wanted to do but I can’t go on like this. I don’t
see the point of living a life unhappy, a life depressed. How did my life get
so fucked up? I can still remember the little girl who would run around on the
playground, sharing lunches on the swings, not having a care in the world, not
knowing what life can throw at you that in one second, it could change
everything. I remember the first time I cut myself I was in 7th grade. My mom
and her boyfriend were fighting and he called me some not very nice names. It
made me feel like shit and my mom didn’t even defend me. I thought I did
something wrong, my mom was so important to me and for her not to stick up for
me. I felt like she didn’t love me. Over dramatic, I didn’t think so at the
time. Well I went into the bathroom, took apart a razor, and began cutting my
leg. After awhile of letting it bleed I started to feel better, like I was ok
and could deal with anything. I didn’t think I would keep cutting but soon I
learned that it was like my own addiction. I soon started cutting phrases into
my leg like “hurry up and die”, “am I ever going to be good
enough”, and more. Soon my leg didn’t help me release my pain and I used
my shoulder and then my wrist. I never cut deep enough to kill just enough to
where I felt numb. I was good at hiding my pain and depression because I never
let anyone get close. Two of my friends knew I cut and they cut too. I trusted
them with my secrets as they did with me. But then one of them started to dis
me and I felt rejected. I never cut over it but I started to section myself off
from everyone even more. If I had no one close to me then I couldn’t feel
rejected or unloved. But somehow my mom had a way to always make me feel not
good enough. I then began to feel like no one wanted me, how could anyone want
me if my own mother didn’t even want me, if I didn’t even want me? I wanted
someone to care for me, to want me even when they didn’t have to and the people
I found who would were guys. I started to get into relationships and even if
they didn’t last long it was enough to make me happy. I felt good about myself
that someone wanted to be with me. Then I got a hicky and my mom saw and said I
was too young to be doing anything. But to me it felt like she was saying I
shouldn’t be happy. I felt like she didn’t want me to be in a relationship
where I was happy since she was in a relationship where she fought with her
boyfriend weekly. I broke it off with the guy who gave me a hicky and had small
relationships that didn’t last long and didn’t mean much. I then started to
realize how much I distanced myself from everyone. I felt alone and wanted to
die but I found it in me to carry on. I pushed myself back into my friends’
lives and began to feel happier. But at home, while I distanced myself, my mom
created a new family, and it didn’t include me. I tried not to let it bother me
but it became what I usually cut about. Then I started seeing a guy and I felt
happy. I didn’t really care about what my mom was doing and focused on me and
him. One day when I came home my mom saw my wrists and asked me to stop cutting
and I said I would. The truth was I stopped cutting because of him, I didn’t
feel the need to cut when I was happy. I didn’t tell my mom about him, and
snuck around to see him and it was going pretty good. Then on one Saturday I
got caught with him and my mom took me home. She took my phone and left, maybe
that what pushed me. She left her daughter who she knows cuts herself at home.
She should have known how self-destructive I was. All that was going through my
mind was that she was going to take away the one person who made me feel like I
could live and be happy. I disconnected myself from him in my mind and soon
became depressed, sad, and angry. I cut both of my wrists and just couldn’t
feel any better. That when I started to think about killing myself. I looked up
how many Tylenol pm it would take to kill someone and it was 8 extra strengths
or 12 regular. I took 26 extra strength Tylenol pm and laid down. My mom came
home, maybe 30 minutes after I took them and talked to me. She didn’t yell but
she did say he was too old for me, and I couldn’t see him anymore. I just laid
there and cried; I didn’t care what she had to say. I wouldn’t be here long
enough to deal with it anyways. She started to say stuff and I just kept
repeating “it won’t matter, nothing matters anymore” and she didn’t
understand. She said she just wants what’s best for me and I looked at her and
just said “how can you know what’s best for me when you dont even know
me?” She left and came back a little later and asked if I wanted to go out to
eat. I thought about it and said yes; little did I know it was that decision
that saved my life. I was in the back falling asleep and when we arrived I
tried to get out, that’s when I noticed my arms and legs weren’t functioning
right. I tried my best not to let it show but soon I could barely keep my eyes
open. My chest started to hurt and I told my mom I needed to go to the
hospital. She looked at me like I was crazy and I told her I needed to go now,
I tried to overdose and kill myself. We left the restaurant and got in the car
and made our way to the hospital. We were there till bout 4am and I had my
blood taken, and an IV. I also had hallucinations in my head that stayed there
all night. There was intense pain in my limbs, I started to cry. I was
discharged and made my way home. The people who know about my attempted suicide
I told them I went to the hospital because I didn’t want to die. But that’s a
lie… If I would have stayed home I would have fallen asleep and never would
have felt the pain. My liver would have shut down and I would be dead. I’m glad
that I am alive but the thing is I could also easily be dead. But now I can see
that there are people who do love me and care for me and  I would have known that if I didn’t have put
myself in my little bubble. Those cuts one year ago turned into my attempted
suicide. My decisions to cut and kill myself were something I could have
prevented. Those decisions have changed my life but have also opened my eyes to
an even different view of the world. My mom was the reason I first cut but if
it wasn’t for her I would be dead.