The Death Miracle: Suicide #2
On the night of my second and last attempt at suicide I had been drinking heavily (surprise) and drunk dialing the few friends I had left to complain to. Naturally they were worried given my previous history but they’d heard it all before. They passed the buck to my parents who lived 2,000 miles away. When they called I was angered and embarrassed so I denied it all – that I was drunk, that I was hopeless and that I was contemplating suicide again. I had assuaged their fears enough to convince them not to come rescue me, which given their tremendous love and support, they would have done in a heartbeat. My ungratefulness and selfish behavior disgusts me now.
After I had exhausted my list of friends, I called my lawyer (see Death Rattle). I was terrified that he would let me down like my last attorney and angrily told him so with my shaky voice. I was spinning inside. Fear, hatred at myself and my life and utter hopelessness consumed me. I looked for the only thing left that could give me a boost of confidence and satisfaction and went into a chat room. Not one about depression but one of those chats about sex. With utter debasement I went into graphic details of what I wanted and read the vile responses as proof that at least someone out there wanted me, if only for a moment, and only for one reason. It was unsatisfying and made me even more disgusted with myself.
There was one thing that would end this torture and this time I would do it right. I went to the medicine cabinet and took out the weapons. I had just gotten refills on the sleeping pills, a 2 month supply, and with the other pills washed down with some over-the-counter stuff, it was quickly over. Done. I looked at myself in the mirror for the last time. Puffy red face, blurry wet eyes and crazy lady hair. I sat down at the computer and sent out one last email to Joseph, the person I saw as the catalyst to this event. I knew this violated my stay-away order but what did it matter, I would be gone. I ranted and blamed, making sure he would spend the rest of his life guilt-ridden. Then I climbed in bed and closed my eyes.
Now, during my previous attempt I had taken only 4 sleeping pills as part of my death potion, but this time I took over 40. I waited. Then waited some more. After a while I lost the ability to move but I was still awake. It didn’t make sense. Hours passed and still, wide awake. The blue light of early morning crept in through the sides of my drapes. Then a new fear came into my mind. What if I would survive? Surely, I’d have some brain damage or physical impairment. I’d have to. Oh God, what a life this would be! A punishment for my selfish behavior. God was saying “Here, you thought you had something to be depressed about before? I’ll give you something to really make you hate your life”.
But then I realized I was thinking clearly and, while I was dizzy and had a hard time with it, I could walk. He hadn’t punished me, He saved me. He did the impossible. There was no way that my suicide concoction should not have killed me. Had I fallen asleep I would have surely died. No question. But he kept me awake. Five days later He would talk to me and lead me into my new life.
Go to Rebirth.