After my father’s death, I tried to distract myself, pushing back any form of grief to the most repressed part of my mind.
For a while it worked, I was so busy planning the house move and organising the funeral as my mother couldn’t, that I didn’t have time to be anything less than strong, if I wasn’t organising I was cooking and cleaning and walking miles a week to get groceries.
It was a lot for someone who had only just turned 18, the circumstances are of which should never have been delegated to someone so young but if I didn’t do these things, then who would?
My biggest mistake was starting a relationship with a boy who I had fancied for the two previous years in a period of time where I shouldn’t have been worried about dating, again I was pretending like my father hadn’t just died by suicide.
Now I don’t know if the events pushed this boy away, or whether his feelings for me were only psychical. Whatever caused him to act the way he did, certainly made me feel alone, because while I was on the verge of crisis, he was off with his mate.
It wasn’t his fault that I did what I did, It was a mixture of feeling deserted by my father as well as my first love who I had separated with the previous year, so when the boyfriend became distant, all that grief came flooding back.
I started to doubt myself as a person, that I was unworthy of real love. I felt betrayed by the universe for taking my dad from me, especially after I had been through so much already.
I had taken my anti -depressant’s like usual, then an hour later I was on the internet and realised that no one would know if I died right now. This thought overwhelmed me so I tried to call people who I thought were my friends, four friends didn’t answer and the fifth did answer but they were in a state of sleep delirium. I even tried to contact my boyfriend who was defiantly ignoring my texts.
I decided that my theory was right, I wasn’t loved or cared about, the universe defiantly wanted me dead and I wasn’t going to deny it of my death, it had after all been pushing me to this point for years.
I wasn’t scared, I was excited to see my dad again, I just wanted to hug him again and be his little girl.
Then suddenly it hit me, the switch turned back on and my fear of death came charging at me, panic set in.
I messaged a wild card, an ex who was barely an ex at all, I told him what had happened and he persuaded me to call an ambulance.
I couldn’t make the call myself, I didn’t know how to tell the 999 operator that I had deliberately tried to end my life, I didn’t want to take away precious time of another patient who could be dying due to no fault of their own. The stigma was overwhelming.
I went to my mother’s room, in tears, I told her what had happened and she called 999, while she did this and while I had to wait a good few hours for an ambulance, I took more and more pills, I couldn’t stop myself, it was like a compulsion.
After the worst ambulance ride of my life and the worst ever treatment and malpractice of my local hospital, I survived but barely.
I remember so clearly watching the clock and thinking, I wonder what my time of death will be, at this point the pills had kicked in and I felt like I was dreaming.
After passing out in the shower I realised how much pain my attempt had caused. Who knows what long-term damage was done.
I will never try to end my life again, it was the worst experience of my life and it solved nothing, all it did was make my situation worse.
If you are suicidal, reach out, you are not alone and people will understand, if you have no one to talk to, there are support lines and you can even DM me.
Keep strong, you are valid and important, your life is very much-needed on this planet.