It's​ Time to Change the Ending

Let’s talk about some dirty words like depression, bipolar, PTSD, anxiety, suicide, and I could go on. Why are these dirty words you're asking? There is a stigma with these words, and no one wants to talk about them because of the ridicule, humiliation and nonstop judgment. Get a bar of soap and wash those filthy words out of your mouth.

I took a thirty-day supply of metoprolol hoping my heart would just stop beating. They were prescribed to help me, not to be used as a weapon of death. It is my opinion that the majority of readers would read that and already formulate an opinion about me without knowing why or who I am. People are so quick to judge or hear one side to a story and just run with it. Here is the story of my failed suicide attempt and an inside look at the frail mind of one that is in that dark, cold, forsaken bottomless pit we reach.

My pregnant sister and her boyfriend at the time were living with me and my boyfriend. It was the day of her baby shower, and we traveled out of state to the venue a two-hour drive. Her boyfriend said he had to work and couldn’t join us, so we left him at our apartment. Upon arrival home unloading the gifts, her boyfriend's phone kept going off. This is my phone I loaned him until he could get his own. My sister checks his phone and discovers some sinful messages from a woman who said she had a great time. My hormonal eight-month pregnant sister loses it. She is breaking things in our home, trying to get to her boyfriend who's running like a coward. My boyfriend is upset because of all of this and stands in front of my sister with his fist reared back ready to swing and then I jump in front of her ready to take the blow.

He and I exchange words as my sister pursues to chase. I see my sister grab a golf club running after him outside the home. He's begging for mercy and now I must step in. I put my hand on the golf club and look sternly at her and say he isn’t worth it. Trying to calm her down because I know she would get thrown in jail for attempted assault with a deadly weapon. I explained to her that I don't want her to have her baby behind bars. This infuriates her further to where she is ready to strike at me. She storms off walking in the dark in a city she knows nothing about. I make my way to my car to find her with the intention of taking her back home where she'd be safe. My boyfriend holds my car door, wanting to argue with me about this mess and I’m having none of it. I rip the side view mirror off my car and threaten to bash him if he doesn’t get out of my way.

I found her and convince her to get in the car. On our two-hour trip back home, I told her I love her and I’m only trying to protect her. She’s safe with our parents and then I make it back home. I’m up all night talking to her boyfriend about this and how he was out of line. He had nowhere to go and because I have a heart, we agreed he had two days to find a place and had to be out and to never talk to us again. My boyfriend makes his way to the kitchen as it's seven in the morning now and wants to know why I’m talking to him and why he isn’t gone. I tried explaining that we were up all night discussing everything and that’s what sent him into a rage. I couldn’t finish talking just that alone was enough for him. The thought of being up all night with this man led him to believe I cheated on him. Now we are fighting and I’m sobbing. I just told him last week that I was on a rollercoaster and felt like I was about to derail to cool his jets with me. I had no thoughts, all I wanted was to be done with all of this. I didn’t want to argue or fight anymore, we had been doing that for the last four years of our relationship.

I wanted to check out and to never wake again. I acted without hesitation grabbing my medicine bottle downing whatever was in it, and it was full. The moment they were all swallowed I began to feel stupid thinking how rash that was. My wheels turning to wonder what happens next and how long will it take. He didn’t see me do this but seeing the empty bottle caused him to name call and throw a fit. He asked, “Why would you do that?”

“To end all of this because I’m done with it,” I respond.

It didn’t work. He took me to the hospital and lied about how many I took, and the only result was a slowed heart rate and a realization that I needed help. After all this, my mom and I got into it over something petty and I cut ties with her for my health. Then my sister who I just helped keep her from going to jail gives me a mouthful of how awful of a sister I was for taking her back home. She cut ties with me, and I missed my nephew’s birth. If there was any better time to think of suicide it was at that moment, instead my thought process kicked in. I deleted all social media accounts, blocked numbers and sought out professional counseling. I was never diagnosed with any mental health issues. Why did I sink to the bottom of the ocean reaching for help now?

Honestly, because I felt that my broken messed up relationship was normal, that everything I was dealing with was normal. That this is part of life and to suck it up and push through. Does that make me ignorant, selfish, crazy, or weak? No, that makes me an imperfect human. Counseling helped and then the diagnosis of depression and anxiety.

Years later I find myself in the ocean again this time drowning and reaching for help. This time I was diagnosed with PTSD and went through some traumatic events. We laid my sister to rest, my dad had a widow maker heart attack, no visitation with my sister’s daughter: and he moved us eight hours away from home and family. You can read more about the aftermath of the earlier events that lead to us burying her in "Hear My Cry From The Other Side" along with other works of mine.

My family is more distant, and I feel so alone going through it all. Still in an unhealthy relationship trying to make it work, I found myself thinking about suicide. This time was different because I have a son, and I gained some lessons from the last attempt. I wanted to walk out into traffic and hoped that would end it. The walls were caving in, and I couldn’t find a solution to that. I lost my faith, and every turn I was fumbling to find something to ground me. Nothing made sense anymore and the only thing that kept me breathing was that gorgeous face of my son. I called my aunt and explained everything and how I wanted help. She listened and never once said a negative thing to me. She said, “Darling, get in with a counselor, find your faith, and hold on, because your baby needs you.”

I could never talk to my parents about these thoughts and the reason being they are too emotionally involved with me. My own opinion when you're too involved with someone who is having these thoughts; you may say something that could make it worse without realizing it. My aunt is my safe haven and my place of comfort. She listens, never judges, she is honest with me and reinforces what is said with positivity. When a person is in that state of mind, they need a safe refuge. Be encouraged of that even if they don't talk to you because getting them in a better frame of mind is the most important.

I was given personal messages of love and reminders of how good of a mom I am and how I’ve overcome so much that I can overcome this. Which made a huge difference for me. It was like my bat signal beamed bright enough to be seen and hands reaching out to pull me from the ocean that was swallowing me. I am at the best place of my life, taking care of my mind, body, and soul. I love life and I love myself for all my imperfections but more importantly, I love everything that makes me who I am -me. I took up yoga and for me, it calmed all the chaos and has grounded me. For the best version of you, all negative things must go and replace all that with positive things that will be the water to feed the thirsty seed inside you to grow into a beautiful state of being.

It's unrealistic to be the superhero to end everyone’s suffering. However, if we can be human, be kind, attentive, ask questions, offer support, show love, give reminders of love, and offer a seat at your table to just listen... maybe we can make a difference.

The hardest thing about these battles we face in our daily life is the feeling of being alone through it all. Fighting your demons and fighting with yourself trying to make sense of it all. Life is a beautiful mess, and we are only so human with all that we go through. Being there for someone to offer a shield and say you're not alone I have your back in this fight is the beam of light that they need.

This is a raw unfiltered thought-provoking story about suicide from one person’s own experience. I hope this helps in some way to look inside a fragile mind and take something positive from this. Don’t be so quick to judge and run with half of the story. Be patient, listen and say positive things instead of negative things. The most important thing is to check in on those whom you care about and make sure all is well. You may end up talking to someone in a weak mindset and knowing that you're there for them could make a huge difference.

Everyone has a story and there are a million ways that their story can end. Perhaps we can have more happy endings to those stories of people suffering in silence.