Awful Morning


I’m not really sure what is wrong, but my self-talk is atrocious. “I hate you” “You suck” “You’re evil” “You’re pathetic” “You deserve to die” “You should quit law school because you’re hopeless.” “You’re worthless” “You’re stupid” “You’re lazy” “No one will ever love you.” “No one likes you”

Supernatural_Dean_i am crap

That is my usual self-talk, but it is more frequent or louder. I have that heavy anxiety feeling in my chest and I feel sad. I have plenty of academic stuff due before spring break, but it isn’t impossible. I have an email summary due Friday (it’s like a mini draft), an oral argument tomorrow, and an assignment I never turned in.

I was cold called yesterday and I didn’t know the answer. I was cold called in the same course last class. I had a bad afternoon yesterday because of that, but I thought I got over it.

I started having minor suicidal thoughts this morning and they’re getting worse. The only thing stopping me (as usual) is the tremendous hurt I know it would cause. I feel like I’m about to cry.

I know part of the problem is I keep focusing on all my shortcomings and failures, instead of focusing on how to fix the problem.

Also, I’m seriously considering having sex and I think that makes me feel guilty. Ah, so much fear and shame.

It probably didn’t help that my mom keeps praising me for things I’m lying about (working diligently, eating well, etc.). I don’t take praise and compliments well in general. So, compliments about things I’m doing right, which I’m really failing at, but lying to appease her makes me feel guilty.

*Correction: Now I am crying

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Why We Choose Suicide


The 3rd leading cause of death for people ages 15 – 24 is suicide. No one commits suicide because it is not a crime; it is a symptom of mental illness. 90% of people who died by suicide had a diagnosable mental illness at the time of their death.

Supernatural_Cass_deserve to die

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Seven Year Anniversary


My most recent suicide attempt was seven years ago today. I was 16 years old. My first suicide attempt was an overdose 4 years earlier. Since then, my parents kept all medication locked in a closet. However, a few months prior to my 2006 attempt, I started stockpiling my medication. It was the day before Christmas Eve, but the date never entered my mind. All I thought about was the unbearableness of the unending, painful, and exhausting rollercoaster ride of my emotions.

I don’t remember much after taking the first few pills, until waking up in a hospital 45 minutes away from home two days later. I vaguely recall a woman holding me down, saying, “You can’t fight it, sweetie.” The next thing I know, I’m in a hospital bed, with an IV, catheter, baby-sitter, and a very sore throat. It took more than a week for my throat to stop hurting from the “Garden Hose” the hospital used to pump my stomach. By far the worst thing about my attempt was seeing my parents for the first time. Seeing their tear-stained faces and finally realizing the depth of anguish my suicide would cause, is one of 2 things that stopped future suicide attempts.

Depression lied to me. I did not think my actions were selfish. I truly believed my family and friends, in fact, the entire world, would be better off without me. I thought I was doing them a favor. I thought all I did was cause stress and heartache; if I was dead, everyone else would be happier. Plus, I believed living would always be as painful as it seemed in that moment.

Seeing my parents in the hospital helped bring me back to reality. No matter how bad, evil, awful, horrible, mean, pathetic, or weak I thought I was, I hurt them the most by killing myself and that was the opposite of my intention.

Yet, even at this point I was not sorry. I wanted to die. People say once a person jumps, kicks over the chair, or swallows the pills, they regret their actions and realize all their problems are solvable. I was not that person. When I woke up, I was angry they stopped me. I was angry I was still alive. In fact, I disconnected my IV, hoping I was not too late.

It took a few weeks for the depression to clear, but while in the hospital, despite guilt, I still wanted to die. Over the years, the image of my parents crying at my bedside stopped me when I felt suicidal again.

…………

And then I took a shower and realized, this post is morbid. I learned some important life lessons as a result of that attempt and I still have a long way to go, but focusing on the present is more important. For example, the loving, accepting family surrounding me! I don’t know why they put up with me; I wouldn’t.