I sat in the garage and waited to die.
It all began in January of 2015. I attempted suicide and failed. I had a stash of pain pills for my aches and pains, I pulled them out and ate most of them. I decided to end my life in the garage sitting on a crate, hoping to never wake up again.
I will give a brief back story as best as possible.
A week before I had done that, here are the circumstances I lived with.
I was in a relationship where I was constantly questioning my identity as a female. I had a protective dog that couldn’t be around people, and a friendly little guy. We were in the middle of trying to sell our house. I found out my mom had lied to me about so many things. We had fostered a young girl and she left, then we began fostering a young male. BTW amazing kids. I being 35 and never having children of my own, had no idea what I was doing. They were both 16 yrs old when they came to us at separate times. I was also on Paxil, which is an anti-depressant drug. It was helping with my chemistry but not with my emotions.
So a week before, I went to the pharmacy to go pick up my pills. They refused to give them to me and I asked why, they said the doctor denied the request. I freaked out. I’m on medi-cal and if you are low income, they make you jump through hoops to see your primary doctor. Shame on them, because, ultimately, people will die. Paxil has a side affect…may cause suicidal thoughts if abruptly stopped.
Our foster son, was being defiant, as teenagers are. Not knowing how to handle it, I age regressed to 16 and we had words.
The day I took all those pills I had to work with my dad in a another town, but people were coming to the house that day to see it. Therefore the dogs had to go somewhere so that they wouldn’t eat the new owners. Our foster son had the day off and I begged him to just take them for a walk. He refused and I had to bring the dogs with me to work.
I get there and let the little guy run free, because he can, and I tie up the protective one. Well my dads friend came up and I told him to stop, he didn’t. My dog leaped and grab his knee. He screamed and needless to say we had to vacate immediately.
As I drive back through the back roads, all I can do is think about driving off the cliff. But if I did that, my dogs die too. That’s not ok, so when I get to the freeway I drive around 100MPH hoping that I will get pulled over. Meanwhile I am hyperventilating and bawling my eyes out.
I get home, put the dogs outside. Call the realtor and tell him he can’t come over. I grab my pills and sit in the garage. As I sat there I realized I never wrote a letter, so I ran inside and started writing shit like, my sister gets everything that my ex doesn’t want, Krysta gets to go through everything, I love you and sorry.
That is basically what I wrote. lame, haha. I go back outside and wait to die.
I did forget to mention, that I had been sober for 7yrs and would rather die than drink. With that said, I wake up to a voice calling my name. I thought I was dead until I realized I was on my bed. It was my sponsor, my ex found me and freaked out and called her. She woke me up and asked if I was ok. Then proceeded to ask me if I still wanted to hurt myself, of course I did, I wanted to die.
She asked me if I would go to the Exodus, which is a place where you get 5150’d. I said whatever, so off we went. I couldn’t really see and I was all kinds of lopsided.
I stayed overnight and by morning they woke me up and asked me again if I wanted to hurt myself. I said what part of I want to die do you not understand?! They then shipped me off to a larger facility in another city about an hour away.
I will never forget this place, it was just like the movie girl interrupted. Very weird to be in a movie. However, I didn’t know that till 3 or 4 days in because I slept 3/4 days straight. I know my experience in there was 7 days but the timing of everything was non existent.
They didn’t let me keep my underwear, bra, they took everything. I was left without blankets and a pillow case, they left me with scrubs only. Sucked. It was freezing in there. So in order for me to stay warm I slept under the mattress.
When I did finally come to, I was only allowed finger foods and not allowed to go eat in the cafeteria. I vaguely remember talking to a counselor and I do remember them giving me tons of medication. I was so fucked up there.
I watched zombies walk around, girls being carried back to their room by 4 people, girls getting shots to calm them down. It was crazy, no joke. The struggle was real in there.
They were going to let me leave but I needed to start participating in ground activities. I really didn’t want to and the one thing I would have liked doing I missed. I did meet a girl in there and she made me a bracelet, super nice of her.
When I did finally leave, I felt weird. I didn’t want to go home, all feelings were suppressed. But what I ended up deciding to do was go stay with my dad for a few months till I got my senses back. I told my ex I won’t go back to our foster son is gone and it’s just us.
And I know that’s fucked up, but in reality, I would be doing more harm if he and I were both there.
I didn’t have a job so I stayed at my dads house and colored for weeks. I had no energy, no motivation. The only thing I was supposed to do was get into therapy and find a psychiatrist. 2 of the best things I could have ever done.
This was just the beginning.
To be continued…
For anyone who suffers from depression or suicidal thoughts…
YOU ARE WORTH IT!!!