"So
this is my life. I want you to know that I am both happy and sad,
and
I'm still trying to figure out how that could be."
-Perks
of Being a Wallflower
"Well, I never
thought I would hit such a low point in my life, but here I am. I'm angry. I'm
upset. I'm hurt. I've just had entirely too much crap build up in my life. And
now I'm sitting here in a behavioral health center. Why? Because I'm crazy. I
wasn't trying to commit suicide. At least, that's what I've been telling
myself. But who really knows, right? All I know is that I honestly didn't care
what happened at that point."
-Katelyn Marie, 19 years old.
For
those of you who don't know me, I've been suffering from depression since I was
about 8 years old. I felt like I was always in and out of counseling. Sometimes
it helped. Sometimes it didn't. I wanted to be happy, believe me, I wanted it
more than anything. I was a very bitter little girl, and it took a lot for me
to show interest in things. Little mishaps kept happening in my life and I
thought it was the end of the world. The small things were affecting me more
than I ever thought was possible. In October 2013, I decided it was time for me
to get put on medication. I was worse than ever. Prozac was the beginning, and
I honestly felt like it didn't help at all. I was constantly tired, so I took
myself off of it. I was getting better, or so I thought.
July
hit. And it hit hard, as a matter of fact. I was sleeping my life away. I
didn't want to talk, or eat, or go out. I was completely shutting down. It got
to the point of me distancing myself from even my family and my closest
friends. I felt like there was nothing left to be happy about in my life. Too
many things were causing an internal break down that I just couldn't handle.
That's what is sad about depression. It's a monster. It eats you alive until
you are completely numb. So, are you ready to hear about July 17th? I thought
it was going to be a normal day, but things were affecting me differently.
Somebody said something that really hurt me, and my last message to him said
"You may have been able to save me from suicide once, but that doesn't
mean you can do it again. Bye." I then shut off my phone for the remainder
of the day.
I
had a nail appointment at 5. When it was over, I went straight home to
sleep.When I woke up, I told myself that life wasn't worth living anymore.
Nobody cared about me. I wanted to sleep forever, because I didn't have a
future going for me. I was a loser and a failure. Nobody understood how
completely and utterly broken I was. So I did it. I attempted suicide. I
swallowed down 75 sleeping pills. I texted my friend as soon as it
happened, not because I wanted him to save me, but because I wanted him to be
right there by me in the ER. And I did go there, but did he care enough to show
up? No. So again, all of the worthless feelings came flooding back. Nobody
cared. I sat in the ER with an IV in my arm, with doctors questioning me about
everything, and I was drinking charcoal.. And even then, I didn't regret what I
had just done. I still wanted to go home and do it all over again.
To be continued...
Love, Miss KatieBug
<3
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