From Hell and back

If you don’t hear from me by Sunday, I will have made my exit. I can’t take it anymore, I’m just itching to be released from this life. I’m wondering if I should write letters or not, I guess it’d be the right thing to do. Peace

^I wrote this post on Nov. 4, 2011. This is my first time coming back to this site since then.

I have been struggling with depression for the past 3 years, going to counseling and trying different anti-depressants. I kept relapsing and the worst of it came around Sept. I felt disconnected from my life and from the ones I loved. It was like my body was present, but it was empty, void of emotion. I truly believed that I was a failure, a social outcast, an unreliable friend, that I would be alone forever, that I would never be successful, that no one could relate to me. All of these thoughts built on one another to me thinking about suicide every day. At first it was just a fantasy, like a ‘oh that would be so nice’. But my depression worsened, to where I couldn’t even leave my apartment for weeks. The pain was unbearable. My only escape was sleep, and when I woke up I would curse my consciousness. I then began planning my suicide around Christmas time (so that my body would be near my family). But the weekend of Nov 4-6 was so horrible I felt like I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted death. Right then. Badly.

I have attempted suicide back in 2009, but this time, I was determined and not afraid to undergo those last few minutes of life. The first night I overdosed on sleeping meds and tried self-asphyxiation, but it didn’t work and I ended up falling asleep. The next day when I woke up I was pissed that it didn’t work, so I overdosed again on painkillers, antidepressants and alcohol and tried asphyxiation again for about 2 hours. Unsuccessful. It turned out I had a counseling appt. that afternoon. I went to that in a haze and told her what happened, not even thinking of the consequences. She had a police officer come and take me to the hospital, where I stayed in the psychiatric ward.

I just wanted to come on here and give at least someone hope that it will get better. Emotions and thoughts at some point have to change, even suicidal ones. Staying in the hospital was a life-changing experience for me, one that I feel truly blessed to have gone through. I learned that it is possible to out think the brain, actively change feelings and eventually eliminate suicidal thoughts. At this very moment that part of you wanting life is stronger than the part of you that thinks it doesn’t – otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this post. There is help out there. Life doesn’t have to be hell.