Something Rolling Around

I have had something rolling around my head for the past couple of months. I don't know why this has been on my mind for so long but I do think God works in mysterious ways.

This latest thing that has been rolling around my brain is very hard for me to talk about. It was not the finest moment in my life. But I need to get it out, expose it to the light.

When I was a teenager, I went through a lot of painful things. Some of which I have talked about. Some of which I still need to talk about. But anyway, these painful things led me down a very dark road.

I attempted suicide. Twice.

In hindsight, the second time was more of a cry for help.

But the first time wasn't. I truly wanted to die. I thought the world would be a better place without me. That everyone that had any contact with me would be better off if I was not around.

It was two weeks before I was scheduled to graduate from high school. I was angry and in so much pain. Pain that I had no idea how to deal with. And then I received a letter, one sent by mistake (which I found out later). One telling me that I had not met the requirements for graduation.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't face any more pain. I was done.

I went home and found every bottle of prescription drugs that I could. I bought a couple of bottles of sleeping pills. I bought a bottle of George Dickel. I went to Sonic and bought a large Sun-Drop to mix my liquor in.

Then I went to the school parking lot. I rolled a joint and smoked it. Mixed a drink. And then I took handful after handful after handful of pills. It took several minutes to take them all. To this day, I cannot take more than one pill at a time. My body won't let me.

I remember crying uncontrollably. I remember my hands shaking as I held the pills. I remember the taste of the George Dickel in my drink. I remember Pride by U2 was on the radio.

It was about 4:30 in the afternoon on a Friday.

Within about 30 minutes, I blacked out. I don't remember anything until I woke up in the hospital the next day. I have an ex-boyfriend to thank for my life.

Upon waking, I saw my Dad by the bed. He looked tired.

When I realized where I was, my warped mind had one thought before I turned over and let my brain go back into the fog. That thought? Damn, I am such a failure that I even fail at suicide.

Suicide is often seen as selfish or cowardly. I did not think I was being selfish. I honestly thought I was doing everyone a favor. Was I cowardly? Maybe but I didn't know how to deal with the things that were going on in my life. And sadly, the mental health profession was exactly any help.

The psychiatrist that I saw afterward would ask me (repeatedly) if I heard voices. And then he would lean back in his chair, put his finger to his lips as he if were thinking, and say "Hmmmmm". He wasn't any help. Scary thing is - he is still practicing.

I wasn't schizophrenic. I didn't have a psychotic break. I was a kid that had been through hell. One that was filled with anger (some justified, some not) and tired of the pain.

One common thing that people say after a loved one attempts suicide - Why didn't I know? Why didn't I see the signs?

In my case, no one knew how close to the bottom I was. I was (and still am) very good at hiding my emotions. Everyone knew that I was a troubled teen but no one knew the depths of those troubles.

And even now, it is hard to talk about even though talk would help me and would possibly help others. It is hard. I feel ashamed. But I need to talk about it. And if any of you need to talk, I am willing.