There are 350 million people who are battling depression and 42,773 people who lose that battle each year. I attempted to take my own life 4 years ago and to this day I’m still thankful I’m alive. Not many people can understand the struggles of depression, let alone the frustration that comes when someone suggests to me that I can just “get over it”. It’s definitely something you can only understand if you’ve experienced it yourself because sadly, there’s really no such thing as a little victory when you suffer from depression. Not only is it difficult to handle on a daily basis but the difficulty that comes with communicating your emotions to others. Even though sometimes I feel like I’m “surviving” more than I’m living, I know that I’ve
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Instead of picking up my phone to hear a sweet hello, I get a taunting laugh. A laugh so heartbreaking it could make the happiest person cry. “I can’t believe I ever dated trash like you! HA, you think I care if you died right now? Do it.”
This taunting laugh and brutal words caused the only string holding me together to suddenly break and just like that… I lost it. It was the most hysterical crying you could imagine, the screaming sobs only interrupted by my need to draw a breath. It was a primal sound, one we 're programmed not to ignore. My mind is telling me that this heaviness in my chest won’t go away and my breaths will only get weaker. I stumbled to my mother’s medicine cabinet with trembling hands and throw back my head to down a bottle of xanax.
I wake up dissociated and confused with two nurses jabbing IV’s in my arms, my mom is sitting next to me with a look of pure horror. I survived. At that moment, I didn’t want to be waking up in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors and nurses sticking IV’s in me with the sound of heart monitors beeping. I didn’t want to be alive then. I wanted to be sandwiched between two piles of dirt, 6 feet under. I asked my mom what time it was and I was shocked to hear that it was 3am, we had been in the ER for over 6 hours. She tells me they are waiting for the next available bed for me in the psychiatric ward. I felt like a failure, I could not even successfully kill …show more content…
I think back to this day often and the second chance of life I received. How if I had succeeded I wouldn’t be able to see life through these new eyes and experience all the beautiful things I have now. I wouldn’t have found my passion for live music or my career calling in psychology. I realized that the life I was living then was not the life I was living now or would be living a month, a year or even ten years from now. I’ve learned to appreciate life and cope with my illness rather than it consuming me. I had discovered that underneath all my depression wasn’t just a weak unhappy person, I am actually much more than that, a strong
Instead of picking up my phone to hear a sweet hello, I get a taunting laugh. A laugh so heartbreaking it could make the happiest person cry. “I can’t believe I ever dated trash like you! HA, you think I care if you died right now? Do it.”
This taunting laugh and brutal words caused the only string holding me together to suddenly break and just like that… I lost it. It was the most hysterical crying you could imagine, the screaming sobs only interrupted by my need to draw a breath. It was a primal sound, one we 're programmed not to ignore. My mind is telling me that this heaviness in my chest won’t go away and my breaths will only get weaker. I stumbled to my mother’s medicine cabinet with trembling hands and throw back my head to down a bottle of xanax.
I wake up dissociated and confused with two nurses jabbing IV’s in my arms, my mom is sitting next to me with a look of pure horror. I survived. At that moment, I didn’t want to be waking up in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors and nurses sticking IV’s in me with the sound of heart monitors beeping. I didn’t want to be alive then. I wanted to be sandwiched between two piles of dirt, 6 feet under. I asked my mom what time it was and I was shocked to hear that it was 3am, we had been in the ER for over 6 hours. She tells me they are waiting for the next available bed for me in the psychiatric ward. I felt like a failure, I could not even successfully kill …show more content…
I think back to this day often and the second chance of life I received. How if I had succeeded I wouldn’t be able to see life through these new eyes and experience all the beautiful things I have now. I wouldn’t have found my passion for live music or my career calling in psychology. I realized that the life I was living then was not the life I was living now or would be living a month, a year or even ten years from now. I’ve learned to appreciate life and cope with my illness rather than it consuming me. I had discovered that underneath all my depression wasn’t just a weak unhappy person, I am actually much more than that, a strong