This is not a success story, just to let you know. It’s just another random story from a random person’s life. Quite pathetic to some point, I admit.
My first suicide attempt goes back when I was 15. I was at home, locked in my room (nobody bothered, I was a teenager and I could stay in my room unnoticed for days).
I always liked the idea about dying through sleep. So, the opiate overdose seemed like a good plan.
I miscalculated something, obviously, so my overdose ended with me waking up the next morning, with high fever and feeling like I’m dead. It’s just that I wasn’t.
In that brief moment I’ve somehow decided to live no matter what. I’ve promised myself to get some help, to kick and scream if necessary, but never give up. This is something that prevented me from even trying to kill myself in the future.
I had one important task to do this day at school, so I wasn’t even thinking, but went straight to school. Just to find somebody who would do this task instead of me (yes, I was that irresponsible, but at the same time ultra responsible kid). I did everything necessary to take the rest of the day off. I still don’t know how was I able doing all this, because I was really stoned and as I’ve mentioned, I had a really high fever.
But life goes on, right, it’s no big deal if I barely survived the night. This was my way of coping with every single bad thing that happened to me in the past. Life goes on, let’s not talk about it, let’s keep all the pain inside, why even bother, there are people with even bigger problems…
You can do this for a while. Then you break. On the inside, on the outside or both.
Nobody ever suspected that there is a different story behind my so called flu. Nobody ever suspected anything. Some of my family members knew a little about drugs, but nobody ever knew the real depth of my problems.
I’ve decided to share another dark part of my life. To maybe encourage people to talk more about themselves. To let them know that they aren’t alone with those dark thoughts. And actions.
I’ve noticed that way too many people keep so many rough things to themselves. Because they think they have to. Or because they just don’t want to bug other people with their “unimportant” problems (dear human, everyone is important, even though you might not feel like it at the moment). Or both. Or else…
You don’t need to have a great family and friends to share your darkest thoughts with (but it helps of course). Sometimes it’s even easier if you talk to somebody who doesn’t know you, and vice versa (psychotherapist would be ideal, but you can talk to other people as well, like a social worker or other people who are familiar with the crisis you’re in).
Talking to animals also helps. They won’t help you find the solution for your problem, but they’re great listeners and some of them can also provide you that healing hug you might need at the moment.
Writing a journal also helps to get some sort of relieve from your thoughts, strong emotions etc. Exercise can also provide you some relieve.
What do you think, were you ever in a similar position, or do you know somebody else who was? I’m curious how many untold stories are out there and why it is so. We talk more about difficult topics these days, but we’re still in a taboo zone.
I can’t offer a medical advice, just to make this clear. Nor do I encourage any sort of suicidal behavior. I’d advise anyone who is struggling with suicidal thoughts, to find himself some guidance of a doctor or psychotherapist or otherwise qualified person. There are also some online communities which can be helpful, but they can never replace a medical advice.