I attempted suicide back in May, and while certainly not my first attempt (I’ve lost count) it was the most serious. I OD’d on phenobarb and diazepam, was intubated and in coma for 10 days, and 5 months later my left leg is still paralyzed from the knee down from sciatic nerve damage sustained while unconscious.
I was naïve enough to think that returning to university this Fall would make me happy and give me a renewed sense of purpose, but class started last week and since then my desire to be dead has resurfaced and intensified to the point where it’s all I think about. I compare myself to all the pretty, happy-looking students, am envious of the seeming ease with which everyone else appears to go through life. I am crippled, my thighs are covered with self-harm scars, I have intense dissociative episodes almost daily, am consumed by shame and regret, and the neuropathic pain in my leg and foot makes it nearly impossible to sleep, let alone focus in class or maintain a social life. My mind is being consumed by my fears and my physical agony and I feel like a burden to those who know me, and an object of pity. I do not think I can ever be “normal”, or even really effectively emulate normalcy.
I don’t take pleasure in the idea of dying, but I want to be dead. Perhaps that distinction seems trivial or unnecessary, but it’s critical to me; thinking of the process is a source of anxiety and panic, but the idea of dark and silence and a respite from the nonlinear sea of haunting memories and overwhelming shame in which I am struggling to stay afloat…I get to sleep at night by fantasizing of that final peace.
I’ve often been impulsive in my attempts, which is largely why I suppose I have not, to date, succeeded. This time around I am trying to plan as conscientiously as possible, and am aiming to arrange for a departure that will both spare me undue pain and mitigate the shock of those who must discover me. Consequently, I am in the process of researching and assembling a helium hood. From what I have read thus-far the Exit Bag seems the perfect solution for anyone who has come to the definite conclusion that suicide is the most appropriate course of action…in fact, it all seems really too good to be true. I would love to hear from anyone who has attempted or considered this, or who has knowledge of the common causes of failure amongst those who do survive.
I’m no true masochist. I don’t find joy in pain or suffering, and all I want is to escape this horrible farce of an existence I have crafted for myself in as peaceful a manner as can be achieved.