Eight years ago today, I attempted suicide.
It was three in the afternoon. I was making a lunch/dinner to take to my work, chopping vegetables for my salad when I realized I didn’t have to suffer being alone anymore. I didn’t have to be sad, I didn’t have to be lonely, and I didn’t have to be scared. That I could just end it all, right then and there.
And I picked up the knife, and placed it against my skin.
I remember the cold blade, and I remember staring at it, willing my arm to do what I wanted.
And then I saw my dog, my darling Anja who was sitting there, just begging for some lunch meat, watching me with her big eyes.
And I lost it. I dropped the knife on the counter and fell to the ground and screamed and cried and hugged my dog and begged for someone to help.
Somehow I called my stepdad who had already moved to Colorado by this time, and I couldn’t get any words out. I just couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop feeling the blade and the fear and the loneliness and yet still wanted to die.
My brothers got home. They just walked in the door, saw me on the floor, saw the knife and somehow knew. I was ushered into the living room, and I could see my brothers crying and I was begging them to forgive me and they couldn’t look at me and Anja was still there.
And then mom got home, and she raged. She demanded to know why, she demanded to know what was wrong. She got on and called me out of work. She took me to a hospital after talking to my old counsellor.
I stayed in the psychiatric ward for approximately 10 days. And those 10 days were filled with weird emorions, weird moments of where I’d hit a down and everyone would tell me it was okay I wanted to die and my feelings of existential dread and loneliness were real. And there were moments where I’d be okay, manageable.
I will admit I manipulated myself into getting out early, when I know I should have stayed longer. I was so scared of missing university. I was so scared of being kicked out because of mental illness. And we didn’t have me on drugs and we didn’t know what worked yet but I needed to go to school don’t you understand?
Eight years ago today I hit my lowest possible point. Eight years ago I wanted to die. Eight years ago and today isn’t really all that much different emotionally, but mentally?
It makes all the difference.
I would have never met any of you had I succeeded back then. I would have never basked in WTNV or screamed over 07Ghost or caught pokemon with my friends or had the courage to move away and get tattoos and know I am asexual and go to a gaming convention.
I just. .
Thank you.
I’m so happy I didn’t get you taken away before I could know you. I’m happy I got the chance to have you in my life, friend. I love you, and I hope things are well.