The first time I tried to kill myself I was 14. I jumped in front of a car screaming “kill me! Kill me!” I was completely sober. I don’t remember what made me do it, but I think I had found out that my boyfriend was cheating on me. It was a spur of the moment decision, one minute I’m walking down the sidewalk the next I’m standing in traffic. No one called the police, nothing happened. The driver threatened to beat me up, I walked back home.
The second time I was 15. I took a bottle of pills and went to bed at an ex boyfriend’s house. He was out partying for the night, so I knew no one would find me for a while. I had no home, my mom had taken off with a new boyfriend and I hadn’t seen her in months. I was house hopping, doing a lot of drugs, and drinking daily. Instead of dying I woke up hours later throwing up. The best friend of my ex was there, he helped me get up, cleaned the vomit, and then raped me. I was still out of it from the pills, so I couldn’t do more than lay there and take it. No one called the police, not even me.
After that I started drinking and doing drugs more heavily. The pain, the emptiness, they went away if I could just get high enough. I walked the line between functioning and not. I still went to school, I had good grades, I graduated in the top 10 percent of my class. A few people commented on the black eyes, or the time I went to school with my back covered in bruises because mom’s boyfriend came at me with a broom stick. A few times I slept in the park, showed up early to shower and change clothes in the gym before students arrived. I smelled, I rarely was able to brush my hair, the school lunch was sometimes the only food I ate. No one did anything, so I did more and more drugs.
After Evan was born I wanted to die. I laid awake at night, listening to Michael snore, and told myself how worthless I was. I was certain I would destroy my baby’s life if I lived. I just wanted to die, to go away forever, to not hurt my baby.
Eventually it got better, then we had Trey. I went to the hardware store and bought a rope. I learned to tie it in a proper hangman’s noose. I kept it sitting on top of the dresser where I kept all my scrapbook things. Michael never questioned it, never asked me about it. I was waiting for him to take the kids, go to his mother’s or the store or anywhere. I didn’t want the kids to be home, to find me, to be alone. But that day never came.
When Michael left, he packed up the kids and drove to his parents. I was alone, I was empty, and I didn’t have a baggie of drugs to find comfort in. I was also scared. I was terrified that I would fail and be a vegetable for life. I would be a burden, more so than I already was. I failed at so many things, I knew I would fail at killing myself.
Now I’m sitting in an empty apartment, alone. I don’t have my kids, and I’ll probably never see them again. I want to find the answer in the bottom of a bag. I’ve been clean for 8 years, and I just want to snort lines and pop pills until the voices in my head go away. Until everything goes away. My brain is screaming at me “just get high,” and I want to so badly. I want to fall into a blackness that never ends and float away forever.
I’m alone, and it hurts. And I don’t have the words to explain how it hurts, and I’m afraid no one would understand. I’m alone, and I don’t know how to function. I’ve been clinging to something or someone else to make me feel alive for so long that I don’t even know where I’m supposed to begin now. I’m alone, and I’m scared.
I’m alone.
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Brendazzle*
on Apr 14th, 2011
@ 12:49 PM:
You’re never alone.
If you want someone to listen and try to understand, I’d be happy to give you my instant messaging info. Or sing some Streetlight Manifesto to you. Or suggest you consume a lot of hot sauce for the endorphin rush (which is how I self-medicate sometimes).
PS: My most current blog post may be a visual trigger at the moment. I figured I’d give you a heads-up because the last thing anyone needs is to be blindsided by fake blood and death.
Kaje
on Apr 14th, 2011
@ 2:00 PM:
Take heart in the fact that there are people reading your blog who care. You are never alone, there is always someone ready and willing to listen. You are strong enough to do this on your own, believe in yourself as others believe in you. You have survived so much and come so far, don’t put yourself down, you are worth far more than that. Sending you love and hugs from England. Kaje xx
anonymous
@ nicolelj
on Apr 14th, 2011
@ 3:03 PM:
I don’t know what to say, but I want to say something. So….something.
You’ve had a hard life. That sucks. It really does. You’ve made so much out of yourself, especially with what you’ve been given. You’ve also touched so many people’s lives so don’t discount that either.
I haven’t had the life you have and yet I still feel suicidal more than I admit to anyone. Depression hurts like hell. It really, really does. I feel you. Hang in there and trust that it will get better.
Email me if you want to talk. Why do you feel like you’ll never see your kids again? What’s going on there? Often I find that keeping these fears or feelings of shame to myself gives them feet and getting them out sets me free. I understand not wanting to blog this stuff publicly, but don’t keep it to yourself either. Telling someone really helps lighten your load.
Fairly Odd Mother
on Apr 14th, 2011
@ 5:36 PM:
You’ve had some really, really shitty things happen in your life (and normally I’d never hit anyone, but man, I’d like to go back in time and slap some sense into your mother), and it sounds like you aren’t sure you can get back up again and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
But. . .you’ve got to cling to that tiny bit of hope. You might see your kids again. You might get back on your feet again. You might find (good, healthy) love again. None of us have guarantees except that if you aren’t here, there are no more “mights”.
I wish you peace without pills or something much, much worse. Don’t give up on yourself.
Fairly Odd Mother´s last blog ..I suck at homework
Dawn
on Apr 14th, 2011
@ 5:57 PM:
I think of you often Summer. I wish you so much strength and love. Life will
be better then this.
Jill P.
on Apr 14th, 2011
@ 7:48 PM:
I know this feeling and I know how much it hurts. The aloneness is the worst of all. If you need to, you can call me. 540-271-6174. I’m here. I won’t judge. So many times I have been dying to reach out to someone and been too afraid to for fear they would judge me or not understand. I do understand. I’m here if you want to talk.
Patty
on Apr 15th, 2011
@ 9:46 AM:
Oh honey, you are not alone! I care! Many people do care about you! Please, please, please do not do anything to hurt yourself. Get help! You ARE precious & your life DOES matter.
I know they have really good counselors at Focus on the Family. I’ve called them before & they are really helpful & kind. Just google them for a toll free ph.#.
I am also be here for you although you don’t even know me. I can listen though! Email me any time & I can also give you my ph# if that’s a help.
Hugs! Prayers! Hugs!
Lisa B.
on Apr 15th, 2011
@ 12:31 PM:
Ditto what others have said! We are not alone. Others reading your blog have known similar pain and care. You are brave for your honesty, for putting it “out there.” Take care.
Nina
on Apr 15th, 2011
@ 2:03 PM:
Summer, you are not alone. I follow your blog all the time, and I admire you so much!! Please hold on! You can talk to me whenever you want to!
love, nina
Amber
@ AmberStrocel
on Apr 16th, 2011
@ 6:55 PM:
You are worthwhile, and you deserve to be loved. I’m sending you all the good thoughts I can muster. I will be here, reading, as long as you write.
Please write.
Amber´s last blog ..Little Pieces
Violetsouffle
on Apr 19th, 2011
@ 8:55 AM:
Summer, I’m here. It sucks that bad things have happened to you in your life. But those bad things are not all you are. You’re a beautiful, loving mother to wonderful bright children, and things do get better. Love and hope to you.