This might be a bit too personal.. but something inside of me is screaming for me to share this.. And honestly.. not talking about things like that.. makes people think it’s not real. Not common. But depression is real. It happens to a lot of people. And there is nothing wrong with anyone who suffers.
They are not crazy.
I don’t remember much of that particular day.. but I know it was in the 9th grade.. I might have been 14 1/2 at the time.. not that sure.. it was a really difficult time for me back then.. I don’t really know why.. it wasn’t just being bullied.. or being left out.. or alone.. I thought I was fine.. I was seeing someone.. or many.. so called therapists,physiologists, “adults” did the whole talk about what’s wrong, get told why things are the way they are.. and leave with a smile pretending everything is alright now that I let everything out, “I feel lighter” “heavy weight has been taken off my shoulders”
But not many know this.. barely anyone to be honest.. the one I told.. didn’t seem to care.. even when I showed her the cuts on my arms.. I remember we were in a small computer room at school.. I was wearing a knitted navy blue sweater.. that made me really itchy.. and the more I itched the more I bled, and even when I told her that hey I tried to kill myself a few days ago. All she could say was why – we didn’t speak much after that.
It all started with me skipping school that day. That place was hell for me. Bjärrhovskolan. But I didn’t always let it show.. no one knew.. although I wasn’t that discreet when it came to skipping classes and my grades.. but nobody cared.. teachers treated me as the bum they thought I was..
I skipped that day.. my mum got mad.. but she still had to go to work.. my dad was working in Stockholm.. and he wasn’t coming home this weekend.. and my sister was at school.. it was her first year at Katedralskolan.. so it was the perfect time..
I raided the medicine cabinet.. I took every Alvedon, ipren and painkiller I could find.. I had atleast 30-50 pills.. I sat in bed.. sorting them.. size by size.. kind by kind.. I poured myself a big glas of water.. made sure the tap was running for a really long time.. so it would be cold cold
I started taking them one by one.. I didn’t feel anything.. so I went on two by two.. till there were none.. I remember feeling dizzy afterwards and then passing out.. my stomach hurt a lot when I later on woke up.. I don’t remember much of what happened.. everything was blurry, I don’t know if I passed out for hours or minutes.. I couldn’t move once I was fully awake.. I couldn’t speak.. my head hurt my stomach hurt.. I had a few messages from my mum on my phone.. asking if I feel better.. I panicked on the inside.. I called my sister saying hey I tried to die and now I’m sick.. I don’t think she understood me.. I didn’t understand myself at the point.. I panicked some more and called a suicide hotline for help.. they kept asking for my name and address so I hung up right away..
I started messaging my sister begging her to come home.. she refused because school was super important back then.. (not any different now) she called Mum.. and told her..
Mum came home.. found me in a pile of my own vomit in bed.. she was furious..
They emptied the house of every pill that’s ever been there.. And my dad found out of course..
And all I could think in that moment was.. that I’m that big of a failure that I failed my own suicide..
Life didn’t get any better after that.. but here I am. Alive and well. And I found and lost happiness, love, friends, moneyat least a million times. And it doesn’t bother me. I’m happy to be here.
And I’m happy that you are too.
Life isn’t worth fighting against. So live. Experience. Love. Laugh. Cry. SCREAM THE FUCK OUT.
Honestly. If knew that my life would look the way it does now back then.. well I’d never attempt suicide.. I’d never do anything.. other than be thankful. Because right now.. life is beyond everything I’ve ever expected.
It does get better.
And I am a living proof of it.