Value of Life

I was planning to commit suicide for quite some time. And on the 17th of February 2011 I decided that it was time. I arrived at college at about 13:00, just before my class started and told my friend I was going to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and took a handful of my anti depressants with some alcohol.
When I noticed it wasn’t acting quickly enough, I decided to cut my jugular with the blade of an NT cutter. All this time my friend got pretty worried about why I was taking so long, so he asked the receptionist, who was sitting outside, to come and check. She called my name a few times and knocked on the door, obviously I didn’t answer. She went out and came back and did the same thing. At this point I was starting to breathe heavily and feel the effects of the alcohol. She must’ve gotten really worried because she called my friend. At first I only made small cuts because I was hesitant, but the fourth one was deep enough so that I could clearly see the vein. I cut over that same cut a second time, but it only pulled opened further, so I tried it again, until I had a big gash in my neck. The fourth time I hit the vein and the blood splattered over the toilet. The minute that happened my friend broke down the door and found me laying over the toilet. He pulled me out of the stall and placed his hand on my neck, which was bleeding quite heavily. After a while he laid me down on my side to try and stop the bleeding. The rececptionist called for help and one of the staff members showed up with a medi kit, and gave my friend some sort of cloths that he placed on my neck to try and stop the bleeding. At this point I also started throwing up the alcohol and the pills I drank. One of my lecturers came in and saw me laying in a pool of blood. I remember her telling me that there’s lots of people that care about me and that I can’t go yet, so she showed me pictures of her baby son and told me that I can’t leave because she hasn’t shown me her son yet. She then continued to throw water on my face and back and flicked my forehead to keep me awake. The receptionist kept feeling my pulse and my friend kept telling me to keep my eyes open and that they’re all there for me and that they care.
One of the staff members sat behind me and kept talking about how I can’t leave them and I should stay. I was awake the whole time, confused and dizzy, but awake. And it gave me some time
to think because I could feel the life slowly slipping away from me, the blood flowing from my neck, the water on my face and back and all the voices around me. And I asked myself “Do I really want to die? Is this how I want to die? Is this how I want to be remembered?” I realised my answer was no to all those questions and I asked them to help me and get me out of there. I can’t really remember a lot of after that, only when the paramedics arrived and placed a mask over my face and something in my nose. Again
I asked myself those questions, my answers were the same as before and I asked them to get me out of there. All the time I kept wondering what’s taking them so long, it felt as if I was laying there for an eternity, because I realised I didn’t want to die like this. From there on I can’t remember until I got to the hospital, and saw my friend and parent’s shocked faces. Something I’ll never forget.

The bathroom and the toilet was full of blood and water and someone had to clean up the mess I made. My friend had to throw away his clothes and his shoes because they were full of blood, the same went for my clothes. Not to mention everyone that was there was pretty traumatised, not to mention my parents. Luckily no one really knows it was me, but that incident came to be known as “the girl from Thursday”

You don’t really realise the value of life until you can feel yourself dying.