SOL3HIRO
Member
- Jan 8, 2020
- 32
A couple of days ago was the first day I spent in the hospital alone at 20 years old.
That night I was planning to CTB by partial hanging but my plans were ruined when my mother found out. She called a helpline and the helpline told me to give my rope to my mother. I was so angry because I was so tired of living that I locked myself in my mother's room and took 3.75g of Venlafaxine, which is all I had and left the room after my mother started banging on the door. My mother had called the police and I was taken in an ambulance to the hospital. Due to C-19 restrictions, my mother was not allowed to come with me and I was in ER alone. Of course, I knew that this amount was not lethal enough to kill me but at this point, I'll take any chance I can get to ruin myself. I cried all night because I felt like such a failure. I cried because I just wanted the suffering to end.
I'm not going to lie, I was lucky. I was meant to spend 2-3 days in hospital due to my heart rate constantly hitting between 120-150 (the usual heart rate is 60-100) but I begged them to let me leave bc I wasn't able to sleep at the hospital and at that time I had spent 2 nights there. They tossed up whether I should go to the psychiatric ward, which I had been to once before, or a home for others like me. I convinced them to let me go to a home and luckily again, I was able to get out after 2 days because of all my begging to get out.
You're probably wondering why I say all this. Well, I have been thinking about how sad and uncomfortable and anxiety-filled I was to be surrounded by people I didn't know or didn't want to talk to. I didn't want help and I just wanted to go home. I think it's crazy that the way people expect to help suicidal people is by locking them up without freedom. We don't get treated like normal people with choices. My mother wanted me to go to the psychiatric ward because she was afraid of me killing myself and yet, she was at home surrounded by people she loves, getting the comfort she wanted. What about me? Why did I have to cry every night because I felt so lonely with no one around me whom I felt were friends/family? Why do I have to go to places that just make me more depressed about life and make me want to CTB even more? Why are we treated like animals just because we believe that we can decide what we want to do with our own lives? I was in the car with my mother and she was telling me about how she was having such a great time at home while I was in the hospital and it really made me think that people are so selfish. Why can't I be selfish and take my life the way I want to? It really hurts to know that I have no control over my life.
I know I don't have it as bad as many people on this site but I think we can all relate to the fear that comes with the outcome of failing suicide and the consequences and loss of freedom that come with it.
That night I was planning to CTB by partial hanging but my plans were ruined when my mother found out. She called a helpline and the helpline told me to give my rope to my mother. I was so angry because I was so tired of living that I locked myself in my mother's room and took 3.75g of Venlafaxine, which is all I had and left the room after my mother started banging on the door. My mother had called the police and I was taken in an ambulance to the hospital. Due to C-19 restrictions, my mother was not allowed to come with me and I was in ER alone. Of course, I knew that this amount was not lethal enough to kill me but at this point, I'll take any chance I can get to ruin myself. I cried all night because I felt like such a failure. I cried because I just wanted the suffering to end.
I'm not going to lie, I was lucky. I was meant to spend 2-3 days in hospital due to my heart rate constantly hitting between 120-150 (the usual heart rate is 60-100) but I begged them to let me leave bc I wasn't able to sleep at the hospital and at that time I had spent 2 nights there. They tossed up whether I should go to the psychiatric ward, which I had been to once before, or a home for others like me. I convinced them to let me go to a home and luckily again, I was able to get out after 2 days because of all my begging to get out.
You're probably wondering why I say all this. Well, I have been thinking about how sad and uncomfortable and anxiety-filled I was to be surrounded by people I didn't know or didn't want to talk to. I didn't want help and I just wanted to go home. I think it's crazy that the way people expect to help suicidal people is by locking them up without freedom. We don't get treated like normal people with choices. My mother wanted me to go to the psychiatric ward because she was afraid of me killing myself and yet, she was at home surrounded by people she loves, getting the comfort she wanted. What about me? Why did I have to cry every night because I felt so lonely with no one around me whom I felt were friends/family? Why do I have to go to places that just make me more depressed about life and make me want to CTB even more? Why are we treated like animals just because we believe that we can decide what we want to do with our own lives? I was in the car with my mother and she was telling me about how she was having such a great time at home while I was in the hospital and it really made me think that people are so selfish. Why can't I be selfish and take my life the way I want to? It really hurts to know that I have no control over my life.
I know I don't have it as bad as many people on this site but I think we can all relate to the fear that comes with the outcome of failing suicide and the consequences and loss of freedom that come with it.