I do know what it’s like to want to die. To feel so overwhelmed with pain and emotion that it literally takes over. My first attempt was in 2007 and I was 33 years old. I had just ended an emotionally and physically abusive relationship with the father of my two children and he wasn’t handling it well. It was like if he pretended that it wasn’t over, everything would go back the way he wanted it to. I never felt so alone during this time – I was struggling with my mental health, dealing with my son who was out of control behaviorally and trying to parent my daughter who was falling into the cracks. I lived in a small town at the time and I often hid in my home as I was so ashamed of my sons actions and I worried about the gossip and finger pointing.
But then, I made a friend. I was too sick to realize it at the time how deceptive and malicious she was – i soon found myself confiding my deepest secrets. Little did I know how she was betraying me. All along, she was having a relationship with my ex and feeding him what I told her. The day I found out I was devastated. The betrayal was the last straw.
Feeling absolutely trapped and no longer able to tolerate the pain, I attempted to take my life by overdosing on my prescription medications. After ingesting a great deal of them, I called my mom asking her to come to my house in the morning. I had written letters to my parents and my children but I didn’t want my daughter to be the one to find me dead. My mom must have heard something in my tone, because she told me she was coming now and hung up.
Shortly after that, my ex showed up at the door. My mom had called him and told him to get to the house now to check on me. She lived 15 minutes away while he was only minutes away. He even brought his “girlfriend” who had betrayed me. That prompted me to try and take more of the pills while she was trying to get them away from me.
My mom showed up and to be honest the rest of it is a blur. My mom went in the ambulance with me while my ex stayed with our daughter, who had thankfully slept through it all. Our son was residing in a treatment group home so he wasn’t exposed to it either.
I don’t know why I was a survivor. The doctors told me I had take enough to seriously harm or kill myself. They kept me in the hospital for about 4 days while I slept off the side effects of the overdose. I saw a psychiatrist via video conference who adjusted my meds and sent me on my way.
Looking back, I’m angry at the health team handling my case back then. I was obviously in severe crisis, and actively suicidal and there was no safety plan made and no follow up by the psychiatrist. If I had gotten help sooner, I think I would be further along in my recovery.
I survived a suicide attempt and I am not ashamed to talk about it.