Suicide

What a completely selfish , ridiculous thing to do. How could anyone really want to die. It's all for attention.....its all a cry for help.....that's how I used to view it anyway.

When  I was a kid, cant remember exactly how old, maybe 16, I did just that. I got drunk  and swallowed a load of paracetamols. I had no intention of dying, I just wanted to make people take notice. I didn't think about anyone else. I still feel guilty.

I don't look at it in the same way now. I'm sure some people still do it for those reasons but I know it goes deeper than that.

When I tried  to commit suicide for the second time  I really wasn't in a good place. I'd only just left my husband and was living on my own. I'd not long been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and I felt like my life was over. I couldn't imagine how it would ever get any better. 

I guess it got to a point where I'd had enough. I don't remember what the feeling was like but I do remember that I didn't want to see anybody, talk to anybody or deal with anybody ever again. It was all too much hard work . It was overwhelming. I couldn't think rationally...well I don't think I could, part of me remembers thinking that taking my own life would be the best thing to do for everybody, me included. It's 2 years ago now and it's hard to think back. Some things I do remember clearly, like the fact it was Christmas Eve and that I was sitting on my own in a house that wasn't like home. I remember thinking how insignificant I was now. People say its selfish but I don't recall thinking about the consequences. If I had been able to think about how much pain and hurt I'd  cause everybody then maybe I wouldn't have done it. I can only say maybe. 

Hopelessness and despair are the only words I can think of. I didn't want to be in pain anymore and I thought the only "cure" was to die. 

I  remember my Mum had rung me to see what time I was going on Christmas Day . I talked to her as if nothing was wrong ...I couldn't risk anyone finding out. 

I remember talking to my ex. He wanted to make sure I was ok. Of course I wasn't ok. He was in my house , with her at Christmas ... what an idiot. 

I had to do it.  I had no choice. I grabbed every tablet I had and sat on the floor in the hall. I don't know why there. I swallowed every last one. Then I just lay down in a ball . I wasn't frightened at that point. I don't remember anything else until I woke up in hospital. The fact that I was still alive and I'd done what I'd done was more frightening.