Waking Up the Day After a Suicide Attempt
Editor’s note: If you experience suicidal thoughts or have lost someone to suicide, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741
After a terribly long night, full of rolling in the bed and waking up every hour or so, the sun comes up. But I can’t get up. I am exhausted. Not from the insomnia. There’s a little something extra making me feel absolutely drained. I can’t move my body and my mind is numb. So I try to sleep and when I do, I achieve rest until half the morning is over.
Then I get out of bed. It seems like a normal day with depression. I don’t speak, I feel melancholic, but I am used to that feeling by now. I take my antidepressants with some juice, but I can’t eat. I have no appetite.
And suddenly, I make a movement. Something hurts, and I see it. And it all comes back, just like in the movies when the guy with the hangover remembers everything that happened the night before. I remember the way I felt, like there was no air, like there was no escape. I remember the guilt, but also the relief. I remember admitting what I did, because the tears couldn’t stop running down my cheeks once I realized I’ve hurt myself for the first time ever. I remember the sorrow in their expressions while I couldn’t help but say, “I’m a disaster” over and over, as a way to justify what I just did.
And then it hits me. Like a car out of nowhere. A voice that says: You tried to kill yourself last night.
I stand there, blankly staring into space, speechless. And I can’t help but start crying all over again. In a way I haven’t done before. My tears come directly from my chest and it feels empty. I can’t help but cry in the fetal position to get some relief.
But the tears won’t wash my memory or the soundtrack in my head, saying consistently, you tried to kill yourself last night.
And then I have to face my therapists. Tell them what happened, tell them what I did. I can sense disappointment and concern in their faces and voices. My guilt grows as I admit I don’t regret it. I did it consciously and I wanted it to work. I am simply done.
How do I resume my life after this? Who am I after this? Will I do it again? How will I face the world? How do I live a life I tried to escape from?
I take it one day at a time. I pray to God he hears me and for Him to take care of my life as I am done, but I am still here. I accept the depth of the matter, the seriousness of it and my responsibility to speak up and accept help. I hope. Even if it’s tiny. I hope this second chance life gave me is worth it.
If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.
If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.
We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.
Thinkstock photo via openeyed11.