She feels the powerful grip return and hold her head in its hands. The forceful pain stabs through her body and she cannot see. She hears a door open and an echo follow, she is thrown onto a iced marble floor and the door is slammed shut. Echo follows. She rubs her eyes. She cannot see. She rubs them. She rubs them. She rubs them. She looks up, down and around her and cannot see anything. Simply darkness. She hears her thoughts. Her critical voice comes back to whisper in her ears she stands and tried to run and darkness stops her, she falls. She cries and pleads for light, for a tiny spec of light so she can face her demons, so she can beat them. Darkness laughs at her. Howls. She cries harder and darkness’ howl becomes louder and foreboding tone of hatred. She sings for death. And a bottle of pills end up in her hands. She cannot see them but she knows what they are. She pours 10 into her hand and swallows them at once. She feels nothing. She takes another 10 and then another 10. Until the effects consume her body and she fades into nothing.
Here I am creatively portraying my attempted suicide last year.
What and how I felt at that very moment.
I literally sang for death.
I was going to type the name of the pills I’d taken but then I thought that it wouldn’t be a good idea, obviously.
Yesterday was suicide prevention day; I mean really everyday should be, beings one person takes their life every 40 seconds. But I believe the day is important, allowing people to know that death is not the answer. I literally nearly could have died that day. But I didn’t and now I am glad as with life I was able to understand the cause and change the effect and it’s completely changed my perspective of the world and those in it.
I wish I could express who I have become through therapy, through further reading, through blogging and being open about my illness. I cannot. I simply cannot. There are no words for the change in me. But for the first time in my life; in my 19 years of living. I love me. That is really significant.