TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of suicide
Day Eleven
In the depths of despair, one final try
Prescriptions and liquor, a tearful goodbye
Ready to end it all, the pain too deep
A drive to the ER, a promise to keep
Lying by the bed the pills and the drink
A moment of clarity, a chance to rethink
Prepared for admission, to face the dark
But instead, compassion, a hopeful spark
Sent for help, a hand to guide
A path of healing, nowhere to hide
In the journey forward, a light will shine
A chance to excel, a soul to realign
If you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, please reach out to the crisis text line. You can text #988, or you can follow this link.
There would be one more time I seriously contemplated ending my life. I was living in my home state at this time. Actually, I was living in a man's basement. It's not what you think. The deal was free rent for taking him to work every day. There was nothing more than that. (For a different post)
I thought about getting drunk and sitting on the train tracks, about the noose my ex-fiance taught me how to tie, about calling my ex-fiancé and driving back to that state to get the pill he told me would end my life, and more. I decided to again try with the pills and alcohol. I started to drink but didn't take the pills. I was rather tipsy at this point, and I found a shred of life. I drove my drunk ass to the ER. Fully expecting to be admitted to a psych unit. I walked in, and I told them I wanted to die. They quickly found the staff to take me back. They ran a bunch of tests. Besides alcohol, nothing was in my system.
To my surprise, they didn't. They set me up with services to help me succeed, instead. From there, I became where I am at today, and who I am today. Because of the kindness of that doctor in the ER. Kindness I am, or was not used to.
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