I just couldn’t live with myself knowing I had just killed myself

The first time I tried to kill myself I was 5 years old.  My sister was babysitting me and she pissed me off; probably would not let me eat sugar straight from the jar or something.  I wanted to get back at her and knew she would feel pretty bad if I died, so I decided to overdose on Aspirin.  I have no idea where this line of thinking came from at such an early age.  I figured taking 8 aspirin would do the trick, but at the last minute I panicked and only took 3.  Of course there were zero effects.

The second time I tried to commit suicide I was 10 years old.  My friends decided to gang up on me and ditch me.  In a fit of miserable fury, I jumped out of the tree house.  The tree house was only 20 feet up, so the jump would not have killed me, but still at the last minute I panicked and grabbed a hold of the rope swing on my way down and zip lined to the ground with my bare hands.  The rope burns I received were disastrous.  If you did not guess already, I was a pretty dumb kid.

The 3rd and final time I attempted to take my own life, I was 16 years old and fully ensconced in the horrors of puberty.  I like to refer to this period of my life as:  the dark years.  I was depressed, wore a lot of black and when at home I would just hang out in my bedroom listening to The Cure.  I struggled every day with bleak thoughts and then I got grounded for an entire year.

Back story:

Some friends and I decided to have a “kegger” at my house when my parents went out of town one weekend.  We passed out flyers that said: Bring $2 and a friend. The plan was to get a pony keg & sell cups for $2 to pay for it & maybe make a little extra scratch. I did not count on the fact that every single kid at my high school would turn up at my house, emptying the keg in the first 2 minutes. It got crazy. There were kids everywhere, the front yard, the backyard, the roof, and in every room of the house. I tried to block off the backside of the house to preserve my parent’s bedroom, but instead it was commandeered as the drug room. Kids were losing their virginity in my attic and puking in the living room. Someone had a drug freak out and broke down the bathroom door. At one point the cops came and kids scattered, busting the railing off the deck in their hurry to flee. There was so much damage done to the house, I had no idea how I was going to explain it without incriminating myself. The second my parents walked in the door, they asked me if I had a party. I said “no” and the shit hit the fan.

You can imagine my parents were pretty upset.  The first night of my grounding I got into a big fight with my Mom during dinner.  Anger, frustration and hormones came bubbling to the surface and I ran into the kitchen and took a knife to my wrist.  Luckily the first thing I grabbed was a butter knife (see?  Smart!) which just ran harmless zigzags across my skin, but the seed was planted, I wanted to die.

That night I got a straight razor and a bag of ice.  I tried to numb my wrists as much as I could, because dude, cutting hurts!  I made about ten superficial cuts when my dad knocked on my bedroom door.  When I jumped up to answer, the bloody razor fell to the ground, right in front of my dad.  I put my foot over it, but I know he saw it.  He came to tell me that he just found a bag of weed up in the attic.  In that instance everything just became too absurd to take too seriously.  I decided to wait and see what tomorrow would bring.

Obviously the above stories show that I was never completely suicidal, I was just reacting to some difficult and confusing emotions.  I was desperately in need of attention and oxygen to wake up my brain cells.  I know I am lucky, because although I do suffer from some sort of depression, like 90% of the world, it is more on the melancholy side of the spectrum.  I don’t need medication and can get out of bed almost every day.  I see severe forms of depression and grief in the world every day and although I do not know exactly what these individuals are going through, I can offer empathy and the advice to just hold on tight, keep going, we need you here.

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15 Comments on “I just couldn’t live with myself knowing I had just killed myself”

  1. DD Says:

    You made me cringe when you described the rope burn. Ouch and double ouch.

    You’re right in that 90+% of the pop does “suffer” from some kind of depression, especially if we base it on angst.

    Are your parents easier to talk to now that you’ve become an adult or do you still struggle? When you’re a kid, that’s an impossibility it seems, even though they might be able to help or if it means big trouble and major grounding.

  2. LJ Says:

    Who’da thunk the Cloudy we’ve come to know and love today was such a screwed up kid!! Great to know I’m in good company.

    I’m certainly delighted that none of your attempts were successful!

  3. Becky Says:

    Wow. Me: age 11 and 15. Knife, window. Thank you so much for your candor, and your last sentence made me tear up. You’re an advocate for those who struggle with the dark side, and I just love you for that. B

  4. Sharnee Says:

    I’m glad you were unsuccessful in all 3 attempts!!!!

  5. cardiogirl Says:

    Like everyone else has said, a powerful post for sure and one that made me cry. See, I am a gal who suffers from depression and one would cannot pull herself out alone.

    Still fighting the demons of a week-long hospital stay 18 months ago. And every day is another day of suiting up in armor in an effort to fight off the dragon.

    I hope one day to wake up and see its dead carcass in the corner, but right now I have days that feel like it’s 50/50 on who’s going to survive.

    I imagine there’s nothing to say to a comment like this, but it’s refreshing to hear someone honestly speak about a topic no one wants to hear about.

  6. Kim Says:

    This entry made me cry. And made me, someone who can’t always get out of bed, feel wonderful too, from your always kind and wise words, … SOO so glad that even though the ‘seed was planted’ it never worked out, oh the horrors of puberty (and everything else!) Thank goodness you’re here! xoxox

  7. geekbetty Says:

    I did some stupid “suicide” attempts when I was younger. One included trying to hang myself from the bathroom curtain rod (it broke of course).

  8. For-Tart Says:

    Wow, Cloudy, that is one powerful post.

  9. Kristen Says:

    I never considered suicide, even though I know I’m one of those clinically-depressed people who needs to be on anti-depressants. I just get really sad, paralyzingly so sometimes. At its worst, I’ve only *wondered* what would happen if I tried to kill myself. Honestly, that just made me more sad, but did nothing to convince me it’s the way to go.

  10. Schuyler Says:

    Funniest post about suicide and depression I have read in awhile.

  11. connor Says:

    kill my self

  12. connor Says:

    it is good i treied to hang myself but my sister boyfrend stop me

  13. Anonymous Says:

    well im still thinking about it so why should it stop me my cuzin went though with his and he hung his self in his back yard yea its a easy way out but im not happy my fiance calls me all kinds of names when i just try to play or help and his mom well let not go there its like im a slave and i hate it i been thinking about it for a few weeks now i think i might just go though with it instead of wasten time here

  14. Unknown Says:

    Did the ice numb it enough so it didnt hurt when you cut?

  15. anonymous Says:

    wow i could see myself trying that and suceeding because i hope i do i just cant stand it anymore


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