Two years ago today, I ran away from home to attempt suicide. I left my house at 4:30am and walked to a dried up riverbed outside of town. The sun was coming up when I got there. I wrote in my journal for what I thought would be the last time. Then I slit my wrists. I had used that blade many times before so it was too dull. The cuts were nowhere deep or long enough. I underestimated how painful cutting directly into the vein would be.
I was disappointed, but then I went completely numb. I was nothing. I knew I needed help, so I went to a house nearby to ask for help. I don’t know what my plan was. To call home, to call 911? I don’t know. There was no response when I knocked the door. A dog was outside and walked up to me. I left and started walking on the road when a truck pulled up next to me. A man with a thick accent asked me if I needed help. I said yes. He probably saw my hands covered in blood because he just drove off.
I kept walking. Where to I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t return home. I walked hoping the exhaustion would kill me. I eventually came upon the freeway and walked along it. I came up to a little shop that appeared empty. I looked in and there was no one. Then the owner of the place then came out of a van and asked if I needed something. I asked for the restroom. In the restroom of some old dirty convenience store I washed dried blood off my hands and arms. I then stood outside for a bit to catch my breath. The owner told me to leave. I kept walking.
I wonder how I looked to people who saw me. I was wearing faded black jeans, a white shirt, a black hoodie, and a backpack. A thin 17 year old boy just walking. At this point I was still walking next to the freeway. A red car pulled up next to me. A woman who appeared to be in her late forties asked if I needed a ride. I said yes. She didn’t force me to talk. I listened to her talk about her life. She said that she saw me and she had turned back to give me a ride. She said that I looked exactly like her son. He had died six years prior.
We went to the nearest town. She bought me some food. She could probably tell that I hadn’t eaten all day. She then took me to the police station. On the way there I told her what I had done. We talked, and she told me that everything would be okay. When she left me she gave me a hug, and told the officer to tell my parents not to be mad at me.
I told my family I left because I was stressed. I didn’t tell them what had happened. Not a single person knew. Turns out that one of my friends posted that I was missing on Facebook, so everyone at school knew I was gone. It wouldn’t matter. Four days after my attempt I graduated from high school. I had completely forgotten about that whole week until recently. I often wish I had died that day. The last two years have been too much for me. My parents and a close friend now know that I attempted suicide that day, but I’ve never told anyone the whole story. My journal still has a blood stain from that day, and I’m still not doing well.
Sorry this was so long, but I needed to get it off my chest. Thank you if you read the whole thing.
7 comments
Your welcome. Honestly I’m glad that lady was able to find you and helped you get home .
As someone who attempted to end their life 9 times in the 23 years I’ve had on earth.
I truly know how you feel. I know I may sound like a hypocrite saying this but life can and will get better trust me!
If you want to talk. Just feel free to reply. I’m here for ya. <3
Thank you. Honestly though I should’ve just does that day. Life has gotten so much more difficult since then. I’m just waiting for the summer to end to kill myself.
Wait! I don’t have any advice but I did attempt it this year, and I still am. I need some one to help me but I have no one. Parent Pressure is killing me. I don’t have any trusted friends beside my books. I need some one to talk to. Please?!?!
It’s interesting how life just goes on, and no one notices your pain or seems to care, isn’t it? It’s great that you’ve told people though since then, I hope they’ve been nice about it at least.
Life is definitely cruel and crazy, but I hope you find ways to get through the pain a little easier, for however long your journey may continue.
That is so sad. I’m glad someone was nice to you.
cool username
Hey man,
I have attempted several times. Obviously not succeeded, and I wish I could tell you all kinds of awesome shit, but I have done so much damage to my body from failed attempts that I suffer chronic physical pain now.
I’m not sure what has left you feeling hopeless, but if you are up to chatting, you can email. Mortal.12345@hotmail.com