I always have thoughts and very amplified tendencies to take my own life.
On the 14th of March, I ODed in school during class at around 11.40am. (I left class mid-way and went to the study area, where there were students studying but nobody really noticed what I was doing.) When I first started with the pills, I was rather apprehensive. Nonetheless, each pill made me more daring and soon enough, I felt like the consequences didn’t matter or scare me anymore. I popped the pills down one-by-one on an empty stomach, until a friend (who was rushing to another class) walked by coincidentally and stopped me.
Tears flowed down my cheeks but I didn’t weep/whine. I calmly told her that I had taken about 16 or 18 pills (lost count) and that she had stopped me from taking the rest of the pills in the box. I think she was a bit in shock and a bit helpless, which was why she didn’t know how to react and what to do. I told her to go for the class she was rushing for, but she didn’t want to. So we met up with another friend headed for lunch instead. All this time I kept tearing but I said nothing – and neither did my helpless friends.
After an hour, my friend eventually decided to tell the school staff, who called the ambulance, and the rest is pretty much history. Ambulance came, police came, rushed to the hospital to get the pills pumped out (it was quite an awful experience – the pain and discomfort etc) and was warded for 3 days.
In the 3 days of being in hospital, family and friends who knew came to visit – but no one asked about it. No one said sorry (except my mom) and no one was realistic about it. I felt like they were in denial – perhaps even guilty to bring it up again.
And then I lived on my miserable zombie life, plagued with responsibilities (I’m a scholar in my university, a civil servant to be with a contract for 4 years already, the president of the university’s dance club, and my professors do know me.) For now I’m alive because my sense of duty towards all these people that I am responsible for and responsible to is too great. The irony is, I can never see my family and friends as people I am responsible for and accountable to – so much so that I cannot see myself living for them.
So, I tried to die – but the experience only made me wonder if I truly am going to do it again. I’m back to square one.