**This is a trigger blog and I know it says it in my about page but suicide is a delicate subject and I don’t want people having an adverse reaction to reading this or become possibly offended**

I was going to commit suicide today.I was.
But I didn’t get to it…

I woke up at about 4/5am but I was sleepy and not fully cognitive. I became more cognitive around 6:30am when I heard my dad stirring. I had breakfast and this strong depression just came over me, like usual I couldn’t get out of bed. Depression does that. But majority of the time I can fight through it and get out of bed. I did that again today. I got dressed in my usual slow way – not purposefully slow but depression slows things plus my back was hurting as well so that didn’t help matters. My dad and I had a deal that if I said I was too depressed to go to school I wouldn’t go and I said that to him whilst getting changed. But he was still making me go. So I was upset that he broke his deal. I finally did get in the car and we drove to school. All the way I was just having intrusive thoughts and suicidal thoughts and I sat there just playing around with them; musing the idea of actulally doing it.

We were outside school and I said to my dad again that he was bad for breaking his deal. He then lost his temper and said “You can move out!” which is of course legal at my age. I know he said it in temper and I didn’t dwell as much as I usually would on it. But I was crying and he said he’d take me home and he did. But I felt guilty. I mean he had to drive there anyway because my brother needed to go to school. He kept calling me selfish as I made us late everyday. It wasn’t selfishness that made us late. It wasn’t selfishness that made me want to keep going to a school 30miles away. I wanted to move a year or two ago but he called me selfish then because my brother wants to stay. I really can’t win. I’m not angry with him for the things he says. We have a love hate relationship and I’m aware of that and I know he wouldnt be able to cope if I left on bad terms and stuff. So I just ignored it.

I sat in the back of the car, googling on my phone what would be considered a fatal overdose with diazepam. From research I did for a different reason I knew that you needed a HELL of a lot of melatonin to overdose, more than I had or could possibly hope to aquire. But I knew diazepam (valium) was a much more likely drug to OD on. I googled and I knew it depended on your body weight, height, tolerance to it etc. But I thought I could get a possible rough idea. I googled and it turns out that some people can take 50mg and just sleep. Whilst others could OD on 20mg. I thought that I had enough. I thought I had a full sheet which is 18 pills at 2mg making 36mg. I thought it was possible. Sometimes people don’t OD they just choke on their own vomit. Pleasant.

I got home and counted the number of pills left. 9 pills = 18mg. Really not enough since I don’t even sleep on 6mg. I didn’t even see the point in attempting. I know the argument is “if a person truly wants to commit suicide they will find a way” – its true. But I have thought of every option avaliable to me at this time. If I tried to hang myself the ceilings would give in. We haven’t enough pills. We don’t have any bleach. The knives are blunt, the don’t even cut my wrists let alone the jugular or something like that. There are all these ways and I’ve just disappointmented myself further. A lot of people just need that one thing to save them. Most people it’s a message from a loved one but for me? It’s not having any possible way to kill myself.

I got home and I was pretty sure dad didn’t want to see my face so instead of getting changed I climbed into bed. I had my phone but not my iPod, I figured one of the ways I could make myself feel better is crying to music – total teenage angst moment. But I couldn’t go to get my iPod since it was in dad’s area. So I laid in bed, on my phone looking at pictures on tumblr. Which was also nice.

I began to just rest and let all these intrusive thoughts take me. I wanted to hallucinate like the day before. Where I was sitting in English and I could hear like the music from a jewellery box with the ballerina and some TV arguing which was being covered by the music. It was lovely. Really eloquent and lovely moment. I wanted that again. I wanted dentist light girl. I wanted the pink cat. But nothing.

After a long time of lying there. I heard my dad on the phone to my sister about the broken car. I fell asleep. I thought I was out for at least an hour.  I nightmared. But when I called dad in (who seemed a lot happier with me), he said he was on the phone to her for about 5mins, 15-20mins ago. Which isn’t long and I think it backs up any data that we dream in the last few minutes of sleep.

At this current moment, I am no longer suicidal. Depressed, yes. Suicidal, no. I don’t really know how to explain suicidal feelings. It’s just these immense, powerful feeling that everyone would be better off without you. That there is no point to living. They’re powerful feelings. You believe them. So you want to do it. I did. I was at a 5.As for missing school. I think being at school would have made the feeling worse. As well as made it last longer, so it’s probably a good thing I didn’t go to school today.

I’m just waiting for the mixed episode and the mania now.


5 thoughts on “Suicide.

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