I live my life day to day, and i don’t really think about anything beyond that. when someone brings up the future, it feels like the question doesn’t apply to me. i don’t see myself with any kind of future, or at least not a good one. when i think about it, i don’t have a bad life, and i don’t really have a reason to be unhappy. i live with my dad, step mom and little sister. my mom lives on the other side of the country with my other 9 siblings. i have 5 bestfriends that i love with all my heart, and a boyfriend that i’m happy with.
but lets get this clear, i’m not in an unhappy mood all the time. there’s plenty of times you’ll see me with a smile on my face, and i am genuinely happy.
but then there’s those nights where im laying in bed, and i can’t sleep, and the only thing going through my head is, “i don’t want to be here anymore.”
my dad made me go to therapy over the summer, well really my social worker did. in therapy i found out all the things that could possibly make me feel the way i do, and they all link to one thing. the past.
my life is fine now, but what i didnt realize is things that happened in my past can still have an effect on me now. my dad was a meth head, in and out of jail my entire life, and always on the run. while he and my mom were together, i watched him beat her with my elder sister. when my mom finally left my dad, she met a new guy and began her 7 year marrige. when i was 4, her husband sexually abused me. he’s in jail now, but he’s still in my life because he’s the father of my brother and sister.
this past summer, 2 weeks after my 15th birthday, i attempted suicide.
i overdosed on prescription pills. i woke up in the hospital at 3am throwing up. i was strapped down to the bed. there was nurses and doctors all around me, and they all stopped and looked at me with a curious look on their faces.
i stayed in the hospital for 6 nights and 7 days, under suicide watch and i wasnt allowed to leave me room or be unhooked from my monitors because my organs could fail at any time.
the doctors estimated i took around 110 pills, 7 different types. when i returned home i found out i had destroyed my entire house. i literally went insane and was hallucinating, i kicked paramedics in the ambulance, i punched nurses in the hospital and i screamed profanities at everyone who came near me.
after that, i only left my house for doctor and shrink appointments. i live in a small town, and what happened got around, i was ashamed.
now that im back in school and going out, people feel really comfterable talking about it, and i always get the question, “do you wish you died?”
and i still don’t know the answer.