shelivedthroughit

[shelivedthroughit]

As much as life sucks, I do think everything happens for a reason.

Had I not been raped, I wouldn't have tried to kill myself.

Had I not tried to kill myself, I wouldn't have written the essay that got me accepted into my college.

Had I not been accepted into my college, I wouldn't have met my boyfriend.

Had I not met my boyfriend, I wouldn't have stayed in my college town.

Had I not stayed in my college town, I wouldn't have gotten the part time job and joined the clubs that have helped me get my internship.

And now I'm at my internship and it is everything I ever wanted. Horses and mountains as far as the eye can see.

[shelivedthroughit]

I think I might have OCD

Reasons:

• I have extreme guilt over stupid things and always feel the need to confess to my mom whenever I do something “bad”

• I have to have my toenails extremely short all the time, as soon as they grow like one centimeter I need to cut them down. I can’t focus on anything else until I cut them.

• I get words and phrases stuck in my head

• This is a weird one but I have to pee over and over again before I allow myself to go to bed. I can go pee and then lay down and 5 minutes later feel like I have to go again even though I know I don’t. This consumes my thoughts and I can’t do or think of anything else until I go try to pee. This repeats pretty much until I fall asleep. And then if I ever wake up in the middle of the night I force myself to pee.

• I used to have to knock on my dresser 3 times before I went to bed or else I was convinced I would have nightmares. I’d have to repeat the knocking until it felt right. This one eventually went away.

• I am officially diagnosed with autism, depression, and anxiety so I know sometimes these things go hand in hand

I’m sure there are more things but these are the ones off the top of my head. Any thoughts? I don’t want to self diagnose. I’ll probably bring it up with my therapist the next time I meet with her but I’m not sure when that will be.

[shelivedthroughit]

it;s so hard knowing how many people care about me and just want the best for me but I can't even get out of bed most days. Everyone around me is trying and wants me to get better and I just keep letting everyone down

[shelivedthroughit]

i hate myself and i hate my life

[shelivedthroughit]

I just want to go home

[shelivedthroughit]

life is meaningless

[shelivedthroughit]

TW -- suicide, brief mention of SA

I remember my suicide attempt in bursts. I woke up to the house empty. I knew my dad was away for the weekend and my mom was out with a friend. I knew my mom wanted to talk to me about my continuous rebelling when she got home. I couldn't stand the thought of sitting with her and telling her once more that I didn't care if I got raped or murdered. I didn't care about anything anymore. I always thought about killing myself. It was a constant drone in the back of my mind, but that day it was so loud, so all-encompassing. I wanted to call my mom, but she had my phone. I went into her bedroom and found her iPad, but my brain was so clouded I couldn't figure out how to message her. I took this as a sign, it's now or never.

I had been through so many different medications. I had so many miscellaneous stashes of old anti-depressants. I figured it would be easy. I held the first pill in my hand, rolled it between my fingers, stared at its ugly green and orange casing. I swallowed it. And then another and another. I stopped doing them one by one and started taking palmfuls of the pills at a time until I ran out. I didn't think it was enough to kill me yet. I went into my mom's room again and swallowed all her pills as well. After taking everything I could get my hands on, I went into my room and laid down.

The regret started to eat away at me. Will I be dead before my mom gets back? I should leave a note. I had drafted thousands of suicide notes in my head, but I had never actually put the pen to paper to write it. I don't remember exactly what it said, but it was uninspired. Something like "I'm sorry, I just couldn't do it anymore." I lined up the empty pill bottles below the note and wrote "I took all of these."

I laid back down, my dog was in my bed. I clung to him. I couldn't muster tears but into his coat I spoke to him "I don't want to die." My emotions were conflicting and confusing and I was ready for the pills to take their toll. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, hoping that I would just never wake up. I couldn't sleep, of course. My thoughts were racing a million miles a second and my heart was ready to pound through my chest.

I remembered back to the time in middle school when one of my old friends claimed to have tried to kill herself. I remember she said she took a bottle of ibuprofen and it made her pupils dilate like crazy. I wanted to check if mine looked the same. I walked to my bathroom and noticed I was dizzy. I looked into the mirror, my eyes looked the same. All of the sudden I was overwhelmed with nausea and I stumbled to the toilet, puking out the pill filled contents of my stomach. It was pale blue and most of the capsules were still intact, they hadn't had time to burst in my stomach.

"Maybe this is a good thing," I though fleetingly. But after some contemplation I knew it wasn't. I grabbed an old scarf from my room, the step stool from the kitchen, and made my way to my brother's pull up bar in the garage. I tied a rudimentary noose, I was scared it would come undone. If you've ever tried to hang yourself, you know it fucking hurts. I was not expecting the pain. I dangled for an instant before swinging my legs back onto the step stool. I tried again and again until finally, my vision started to turn black. I panicked, I swung back to the step stool and fell to the ground, my vision became spotty and I almost passed out.

At this point, multiple hours had passed. I knew my mom would be home any minute and I didn't have time to concoct another plan. So I waited. At some point, I don't remember when, I decided to cut my thigh. I didn't bother to clean up the blood, I let it drip down my leg. I heard the dogs run to the front door, mom was home, her best friend in tow.

When she walked in I asked for a hug. She seemed concerned and hugged me briefly before asking what was going on. I still couldn't find it in me to cry. "I tried to kill myself. I took all my pills and all of yours, but I threw it up. So then I tried to hang myself." She was taken aback, but not totally shocked. "So I don't have any pills for the rest of the month now?" Really? That's what she was concerned about? I shook my head.

My mom's friend, a nurse, led me to my room where she saw the note and the pill bottles. "I need you to tell me the truth. Did you actually take all these or are you lying?" I told her I took them all and that the vomit was still in the toilet in case she wanted to check. "Ok, we have to take you to the mental hospital. Get dressed." She spoke to me calmly, robotically, I had never seen this side of her before.

I gathered some clothes and walked out of my room to see them deliberating. I walked towards them, "so what, you're cutting again too?" my mom asked. I had almost forgotten the slices on my right thigh. I nodded again. She looked at my neck, sees the marks that the scarf left. I looked in her eyes. She was terrified.

We got into the car and started to drive to the mental hospital that I'd been admitted to only a couple of months before. My mom's friend was on the phone with the facility, they told her that since there were still drugs in my system we had to go to the emergency room.

From here, things get spotty in my memory. I don't remember the rest of the car ride. I don't remember arriving at the hospital. I remember sitting in the waiting room and filling out paperwork. I get up and walk to the receptionist to hand it to her. I remember turning back around and then nothing.

I wake up in a hospital bed. I sit up abruptly and promptly puke all over myself. My mom is holding my hair and rubbing my back. She tries to soothe me as I wretch and dry heave into my lap, all over my pajama shorts.

I'm laying down now. The vomit is gone. My mom is in a chair next to my hospital bed. "Dad is on his way." I nod. "I'm sorry." Still no tears. I have to pee, I go to stand up and I can't walk. What is happening to me? "After your seizure you got sent straight to this room." "I had a seizure??" My mom helped me as I struggled to walk to the bathroom.

I'm in the hospital bed again. My dad is here. He's crying but he won't let me see his face. His shoulders bounce as his body is wrecked with sobs.

I'm watching Netflix on my mom's phone with her. I barely touch the hospital food they give me. My only utensil is a plastic spoon so I can't stab myself or someone else. My mom is trying to comfort me and herself. I feel nothing. I hear nothing. I am nothing.

I don't remember if I spent the night there, I think I didn't. After a couple bathroom trips I regained the ability to walk, mostly. I'm put in a wheelchair that's strapped to the floor of an ambulance. I feel like cargo being shipped away to the mental hospital.

This was January 2022. I survived. I have not made an attempt on my life since. I love my mom and my family more than anything. She's painted in a bit of a harsh light in this post but it's just because she was terrified, she didn't know what to say or how to react. To this day she doesn't like when I wear chokers because it gives her flashbacks to that day.

[shelivedthroughit]

I still haven't written anything nice about myself. I just want to go home so badly. I hate college, I'm not smart enough for it.

[shelivedthroughit]

My therapist told me to write nice things about myself when I journal on occasion so I can look back at it when I'm feeling down. I don't think I have anything nice to say about myself ever though. I just genuinely hate myself so much.

[shelivedthroughit]

I just want to go home

[shelivedthroughit]

I'm tired

It is so exhausting to think that I have to be me for the rest of my life. I never get a break. I have to put up with myself forever. I can never be someone else. I can never just stop existing for a while. I hate myself, I hate being surrounded by myself. I hate looking in the mirror. I hate looking down and seeing my body. I want to cut myself open and crawl out of this body. I'm so tired of being me.

[shelivedthroughit]

i hate chemistry

that's it. i just really hate it.

[shelivedthroughit]

No year will ever be "my year"

I know I have to accept that, but it's hard. 17 days into 2025, lets recount on what has happened.

My hamster is on her last legs. She's old now. I have had her for about a year and a half, she was already full grown when I got her so who knows her true age. Hamsters only live to 3, if they're lucky. She's going blind, losing weight and balance, and always seems confused. It's a sad sight.

I've had multiple panic attacks already. I'm back in the college town I despise. I had no interest in returning, but I had no choice.

I've started my semester and I already feel lost in biology.

I'm still lonely and friendless.

I have to start therapy again.

I just don't want to exist. I hate college and more often than not I hate my life.

[shelivedthroughit]

Maybe 2025 will be my year

Things are looking up, not to jinx anything. I have 1 final left and then I'm done for the semester. I'm home for the holidays. I made up with my boyfriend. I get to compete at a really important horse show for my birthday. I still feel incomplete but I think I always will. I always have so I don't see why that would ever change. I won't be a teenager for much longer. Next week I'll be 20. This year was rough, not as bad as last year though. Maybe I can end it on a high note. I hope I don't get in my own way this weekend.

[shelivedthroughit]

I'm very lonely

My roommates are assholes. My boyfriend is an asshole. I just want to go home. Today has been going on for a million years and I just want it all to end. I can hear my roommates laughing through the wall. I hate them. I hate everything. I have no motivation to do anything anymore. I'm fat and ugly and a waste of space. And I'm typing this all out to post to no one. How pathetic.

[shelivedthroughit]

Worst day ever

Trump is the president again. My state is continuing its abortion ban. My period started. The love of my life cheated on me. I want to die. I really truly feel so empty. I feel so sick.

[shelivedthroughit]

Things I Hate

My body

My brain

Biology

Statistics

Trigonometry

Myself

Writing lists like this as if I'm not almost 20

The fact that I'm almost 20

Being alone

Being with people

Grades

Grading papers

Work

School

Never being good enough

My face

My weight

My hair

My legs

Mornings

Eating healthy

Having barely any friends

Caring so deeply about everything

Feeling so deeply all the time