Suicide Attempt – no. I’ve-Lost-Count

I tried to commit suicide – again.

As you know for many months I’ve been depressed. On or off medication. I’m always so fucking depressed. I self harm and that makes no difference, I drug myself with diazepam snorting or orally taking which I eventually stopped because that didn’t help. I’m also so goddamn lonely. I’ve known for a while I’m at tipping point and having somewhere safe was kinda my saving grace.

What happened?

The laptop I currently have is shit so I ordered a new one and I, because of my social anxiety, wanted it to be delivered but my dad said to just reserve it and we’d pick it up. So I did. When we went to pick it up, it wasn’t ready so I wandered off to the laptops to try and find the one I was purchasing (I found it), my dad eventually joined me and I asked how long until the laptop was ready and he said he didn’t know and that one of the floor guys was going to bring it to us. So this guy did and he took it to my dad and my dad called me over and the guy asked me questions like what I was using it for? My social anxiety probably made the annoyance I felt more profound but I reserved the laptop – I know what I’m looking for. He then asked me if I wanted them to set it up and I said no because I just wanted to leave. The guy then said it’s an extra £35 for this back up USB thing (I said no) and then my dad started going on about how “that’s how they get you” and I told him I’d explain what it is in the car and I was getting short now because he wouldn’t stop. Once we were out of the shop and in the car I was okay.

We got home and my dad carried it in and placed it on the table and began to unwrap it. That pissed me off because number one: it’s my fucking laptop that I paid for so what gives you the right to undo it? Number 2: they were undoing all the leaflets and wires and then I had to carry it all upstairs when I could have just taken it inside the box so I asked why they opened it when it would have been easier to carry in the box and my dad began to put it away so I asked him why and then I wandered to the stairs whilst muttering “I’m not in the mood” which is when he violently started putting everything back in the box. My brother left after that knowing an argument was starting. To sum up the argument – my dad told me I made everyone’s life hell and that I had to pack my bags because I’m moving out.

Magnified since I left school, I feel like a burden to everyone. That I’ve changed into a short, snippy, bitter person with no appreciation for others and I hate myself. I mean not just hate my figure or some physical attribute of myself – I hate my personality. Then my dad who was essentially throwing me out brought to mind how my mum did the pretty much exact same thing. One parent does it, it’s bad parenting. Two parents do it, you’re the problem. Not getting any replies from my friends when I asked if I could stay with them and homeless shelters looking like a bad option and not wanting to inflict myself on others I grabbed the handful of queitapine, a blood pressure tablet of my dad’s and a diazepam to help me sleep and took it all.

My brother came in after a while and I was slurring my words and at that moment my dad returned from returning the laptop. They took me to hospital (with great difficultly since I could barely stand) and I ended up throwing up in the car park. Once we got in, my blood pressure was taken and I was given an ECG – my heart was showing problems. I then had to wait to be seen and I lied and said I took the overdose by accident (doctors believe any fucking thing you tell them). With great difficult they put in a line for a saline drip and took some blood (out of my wrist since they couldn’t find a vein) but then they said they wanted me to stay over night for observation, we’d already been there 4 hours it was getting to 8pm. I discharged myself then.

I regret that action. I’ve had chest pains all day and I don’t know if it’s anything serious and I just don’t like being on my own. I hate myself for company. Think of sitting in a room with your worst enemy but you can never ever be away from them – they’re everywhere.

I’m obviously alive but I in no way want to be but I’m so much of a screw up I fail at my own fucking suicide. Now I’m just in this place where I want to be dead but I don’t want to be the one doing the killing. I don’t think I’m safe on my own any more and I don’t have the mental capacity to be with others. I’m just so fucking depressed. There is literally no other way to describe it. I just want to die. Living with me is a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone and I probably thought this last year but I wish last year me with the fancy personality would come and punch no personality in the face. Then I wish present self would punch like 13 year old me and then present me goes and punches future me in the face. Then future me punches present me in the face. I feel like that would be a good recompense and also an awesome movie.

Stuck in the dark abyss, I went and drank half a can of lager and felt a little less depressed.

I have no plans on killing myself again. I swear.

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4 thoughts on “Suicide Attempt – no. I’ve-Lost-Count

  1. Oh honey!!! YOU NEED TO BE IN THE HOSPITAL!!! PERIOD!!! You need that inpatient care right now to pull you out of this depression!!! I’ve seen you doing so much better, I know you can kick this depression’s ASS!!! PLEASE GO INTO THE HOSPITAL AND LET THEM HELP YOU!!!! You are so dear and so worth saving!!!

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