Phone a Friend…

All my life my parents had been every strict on me and always compared me to my sister who is the typical #1 child. She studied all the time didn’t really have friends to distract her from school so she got in to just about every college she applied to including Duke, University of Hong Kong, and the UGA Honors College, etc. However, I’m quite the opposite, I love to hang out with my best friend and have fun and be the typical teenager that loves life and doesn’t care about school (even though I know I’m smart). So long story short all of the stress of my parents trying to make me be exactly like my sister just built up until I couldn’t handle it anymore and I burst. I began to have some thoughts about self-harm but nothing very serious until about a week before everything happened. At first nothing really happened and I would just have what I assumed to be a panic attack which usually resulted in texting my best friend and crying myself to sleep.

Then one night everything changed–when I was laying in bed once again thinking about ending it all, I tried to end it all. I got up from my bed and went to my sisters closet where I new she had medicine in her drawer.

I took 11 pills that night in an attempt of killing myself.

Once I had realized what I had done I felt instant regret and a lot of fear. I texted my best friend “I really need you right now I’m a mess” which I followed with an explanation of what had just occurred. She immediately told me to throw up and told me things like “you can’t die I need you here” and that she was scared she was going to lose me. I tried to justify why I did it but I just couldn’t think of a way to explain it. “I just hate my life and everything in it” was what I continuously typed into my phone, until I passed out and could no longer respond.

The next time I woke up was an hour later to the millions of texts reading “HELO????” or “ANSWER ME” from my best friend and all I could type back was “dart I dbsucb.”

I remember lying in my bed just sitting under the covers and screaming and crying hysterically while I tried to end everything and talk to my best friend at the same time. After the first hour of being passed out I stumbled out of bed to go to the bathroom but was hardly able to walk. The medicine had definitely kicked in which caused me to have severe hallucinations and be unable to move properly or speak normally. I can still picture trying to go back to sleep because that is all my body knew how to do at the time, but I kept having arm or leg spasms, which made me extremely uncomfortable and even more restless.

I just wanted everything to be over and be “stress free” with nothing to worry about anymore.

What I never realized was how much this would affect me later as well as my best friend. It left me with critical PTSD and anxiety problems. Every now and then (about once a week) I remember this day, May 5, 2016, and how I tried to stop everything that was happening even the good things I had. My best friend was also put through so much just for me trying to make a huge decision about something small. Now whenever I think about that night I just talk to her and she walks me through everything and everyone that I love and reminds me of everyone who loves me and cares about me. Honestly I probably wouldn’t have even been here to write this crazy story if she hadn’t been there to help me.