suicide

I am considering it with true intention this time, I really am. The things I am dealing with cause me endless stress, and truly weigh on my well being. I am not sure yet though, I just need to see what the next months ahead hold for me. The happiness I have been experiencing lately isn’t overriding the urge the way it was before. The urge has grown and become progressively more persuasive as I linger in fear and depression. Not to mention the idea of admitting failure. Moving in with a relative is something I simply refuse to do. I know that sounds pathetic, but I really can’t go back to it. It has nothing to with pride, while that is a factor, it’s not the shame that’s pushing me. It is the fact that these people treat me as if I am already dead. As if my brain has come and gone, that my soul moved on somewhere around the age of 18. They have already mourned my loss, and frankly I can’t deal with them again.

I think that the people I love will be affected, but at the same time, they will understand. I expressed innumerable time to my closest friend that I would eventually kill myself. As if life was a waiting room for a Dr. Death appointment, that I planned to meet the doctor on my own terms so to speak. My roommate will not take it well, but I think she knows as well, that every waking moment I spend all of my energy dealing with my massive insurmountable circumstances.

All things considered, suicide truly scares the shit out of me. I woke up in a hospital in February after an attempted suicide. I had taken a large cocktail of drugs, (phenobarbital, baclofen, beta blockers, promethazine, and a 1/5 of jack daniels, full bottles) and was near death before the ambulance even arrived to pick me up that night. My mom discovered me, and didn’t think much of it, I have been known to over do it when I have a substantial amount of drugs on hand. She was aware I had a large amount, and just thought I was passed out. She situated my body on the bed, she checked my vitals, and she moved on with her night. The only reason I didn’t die is because I had sent some goodbye messages to a few friends online, thinking it was safe because they wouldn’t be able to contact my mother, but they were persistently calling my skype, making my computer sound notifications continuously hoping I would reply. That was annoying enough to draw my mom back into the room, and check my computer, which she never does. She got in touch with the first person she saw communicating, and said, “What’s going on this is Daniel’s mom, is Daniel okay?” the person on the other end said, “Call an ambulance, now.” It’s pretty much self explanatory what happened from there.

Back to the reason I am terrified of kill myself. 3 days after the ambulance came, I started to regain consciousness I was able to breathe on my own, and they took me off of life support. While coming to, I was mildly aware of what I had done, but not very coherent. I was drifting in and out of consciousness, I would wake, and see everyone around me. Then out of my own control like a flash, I would black out completely. I could hear the people around me saying “Come on Dan, you can do it.”, or things very similar to that, and each time I would black out I heard a very intense ringing in my ears. At this time I thought it was my equipment notifying the intensive care staff that I had flat lined, but it wasn’t, the deep ringing was just the trauma my body was experiencing still being so heavily sedated. These blackouts continued for hours or what seemed to be hours. I would snap in and out, and between each waking moment I would have meta-dreams or sorts, I was be able to hear my family say, “I don’t think he’s going to make it this time, he isn’t coming back.” they compounded and the fear built with each blackout, and they progressively lost hope in my recovery each time. The meta-dreams progressed as far as them pulling the sheets over my face, and pronouncing my death. I believed I was actually dead at least 3 or 4 times. The whole situation was extremely traumatic, and I rarely reflect back on it. With enough questions, and memories i assembled what I think was going on, but I never got a real picture of it. Regardless of what actually happened, I was convinced I was dead multiple times. I also was near kidney failure (deep dark brown urine), unable to breathe on my own, and my lungs were filled with fluid. I would have died if it weren’t for my internet friend’s persistence.

It was the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced.

Now I am stuck with these competing issues in my mind. The absolute terror of what happened to me the last time I attempted, my deep deep will to live in that moment, and the unforgiving misery I am experiencing now. Thinking I was going to die really put my suicide in perspective for me, that being said, I am not willing to endure an endless struggle like this. The deep anxieties I experience on a daily basis because of my finances, and other factors, are too heavy of a burden. I am losing the motivation to succeed, or even the will to persist and keep putting in the time. Yet at the same time, I know in my core that I want to live, I really do. I read some article at some point, and it said something like, “When you’re in a burning building with flames to your back on the 5th story, jumping from the window seems like a much more tolerable outcome than being engulfed by flames.” (that quote is far off from the actual literature) I just don’t think I want to die run down with my face in shit, struggling everyday for absolutely nothing, and getting no where. I can’t do it anymore.

In the next few months things may change, and they may not, I am at least going to try to exercise my resourcefulness to survive until I know if I really have to subscribe to a life of sadness. I am just very very close, things are piling up, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t have anyone to turn to anymore. I have moments that I feel okay like I may be able to make it, but they’re quickly overshadowed by my feelings of impending doom. I do think the time is coming soon, I don’t know if I will be ready when it’s here though, either that I may end up impulsively doing it before I know if things are going to change or not, out of pure panic. I am at wits end, and I don’t know if I can handle it anymore.

goodnight sp