I’m not so sure anymore . . .

April 26th, 2010by MissCharlotte94

I don’t know when this all started. All i can remember is this deep feeling in my chest that never went away. Constantly there, always. Sometimes it hurt, And sometimes it was just a bother. I’ve attempted (half assed if i must admit) suicide before, I naively overdosed on ibuprofen and paracetemol (i was in such a rush too go i didnt even think about what i was taking, i think i knew, deep down somewhere that this wouldn’t work), then i tried slashing my wrists. I ended up having a panick attack (which ironically saved my life), so i hopped out of the bath i was killing myself in and pulled the plug, wiped off little blood from my arms, picked up all the empty pill packets, suicide letters, The knife and clothes etc and ran to bed, and just slept. I woke up to the annoying sound of my mother hoovering the floor around me, and as i gently gained consciousness in my lumpy matress, tangled up in my douvet i was in so much pain. My body was twitching, my muscles felt weak, i couldn’t move, whatsoever. My head felt as if someone was sittin on it, and my eyes were dazed and half opened. But all i could think was ‘did i honestly try to kill myself . . . and manage to fail’?. I still regret not completing my attempt (as bad an attempt it was). And i think about it everyday, and this happened just under a year ago, i still haven’t quite gotten over it. I managed to stop self harming, of course instead i take to sexual acts, drug and alcohol abuse, i smoke like a chimney when i can, i’ve become an emotional rock.

But, i feel incredibly selfish. Because okay i attempted suicide, i still have ideas too do it. But you hear these stories of people overcoming child abuse, sexual abuse, well any kind of abuse, loosing a loved one ect and you think ‘my god, whats wrong with me! my story is nothing compared to these people’ and then you feel melancholic at the fact that you took the time, explaining a story, which is nothing compared to these strong, beautiful people out there. It’s a wirl wind of selfish stories out there, but all of them, no matter how simple they are have a meaning. And i hope That people who are seriously considering Suicide to please read others stories, and realise that there’s a way out, Do you believe that everything happens for a reason, or did my panick attack save my life out of pure dumb luck? or was it coincidence? Im not religious, (although sometimes i just want to shout ‘thank you lord!’) But sometimes, Its nice to think that there truely is someone out there, who forgives everyone, and listens to our problems. <3

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