Warning: This may be triggering.

My life has not been easy. It has also not been as hard as others. But, nevertheless, I have experienced incredible pain and suffering. Now, before I continue, I would like to ask those of you who are new to my blog to read my article Addicted to the Hospital: My Story. It will give some much-needed context.

So, if you had asked me 8 years ago, if had ever considered killing myself, I probably would have laughed. I didn’t have the perspective. I was so driven. I wanted to be president of the United States of America when I got older, and I would have stopped at nothing to get there. To put it lightly, I was an over-achieving type-A, something that I believe has contributed both positively and negatively to my recovery. Fast-forward just one year and I had been in the hospital several times for suicidal thinking. I never went into the hospital for anything else. And less than a year after that, I tried to kill myself.

Note: Because I am NOT a proponent of suicide, I am not going to talk about what I did. However, I want to take this opportunity to share what happened next and how it all got me to where I am today.

My rapid downward spiral in those early years seemed to come out of nowhere. In reality, though, I had been falling for a long time. No one really knew what was going on. Everyone, including myself, chalked it up to my ambitious nature. I was a passionate child and all the emotions seemed to fit. However, after my second suicide attempt, things seemed to sink in even more.

I was trapped in a perpetual state of chaos and confusion. Suicide has always been a way of escape for me, that is why I did it. I wanted to get away from it all. Now, some people ask me, “What’s so bad about your life?”. My response, not that much. But, not that much is referring to material things (money, a place to live, etc.), and not the inner battle I have to face every day. My mind tortures me, and, for the longest time, I let it. I didn’t know there was another escape. Sometimes, it still seems suicide is the only way.

Life continued on, and so did the attempts. And, after all the therapy, medications, and hospitalizations, I still have the urges. It’s like being addicted. It’s everywhere. The difference now is that I’m choosing to resist. I am choosing to fight back, even though I fear it may swallow me whole. It’s hard to describe. It’s not really natural to think this way, but I can say this. Fighting has given me an irreplaceable gift, a chance to experience this life. I cannot guarantee that my life will ever be free of suicide, but I want to see what’s out there. I’m not done just yet.

P.S. – Breathe.

Sincerely,

VA

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