I thought It Was The Only Answer
I sat in my room one night looking at the wall for what seemed like hours.
It was right after I came home from a horrible day at work. My cat was my only company that night while my brother and his girlfriend were out on a date night. I kicked off my shoes and let my hair down. I looked over at my unmade bed and messy room really quick and I threw down my keys on the dresser near my door. I went over and sat on Sammy’s bed (my daughter) and looked over at her side of the closet where she had all her toys and sweaters. I missed her. I really missed her.
I remember just rubbing my eyes to keep from crying knowing that my life was a mess. My friends were not really my friends anymore, just people that used to know me when I was happily married. My daughter never came around because her dad was right, I could not have her around me when I was like this. I would scare the poor thing and it would hurt her seeing me like this. I would hurt more if she ever saw me like this.
The cat was purring at my feet happy to see me home. My cat was such a loving cat and craved the company of others. I usually picked him up but I didn’t this time. I let him rub his face on my leg begging me to stroke him but I had no energy and definitely was not in the mood for it.
I want to die. I kept telling myself I did. I always thought about it. I have always craved for everything to just end. I wrote so may suicide letters already but hid them away knowing I would probably never do it. I was ashamed of myself. The dark thoughts were swirling around me and everywhere I looked I saw everything I lost. I lost my husband, I lost my daughter, and I lost myself.
I stopped drinking at the time. I had bottles everywhere and I hid a few, but now they were in plain sight sitting on the desk all either half empty or full. They were there to serve a purpose, that I would be strong enough to have them there, but I would not dare take a drink. But that night I couldn’t help myself, they were so tempting, I took the tequila and took a couple of shots straight out of the bottle. I hated myself for it because I was doing so well.
I looked over at the mess I made the other morning looking for my work shoes next to the bathroom and kicked a few of the clothes out of the way. The bathroom was clean to an extent. It was cleaned a couple of days before and now just a bit out of place. I was doing so well keeping up the housework and it started to show that I have given up. I didn’t even bother brushing my teeth for a couple of days and I left the toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink counter looking rather sad. I put down the bottle right next to it while I started to sit on the toilet. As I was doing my business I looked straight ahead where I had all my products sitting on tiny shelves. I had hair stuff, makeup, the first aid kit, candles, mouthwash etc. and then I saw the box where I kept the old medicine. I had hard medicine from the surgeries I got and the time where my ex broke his arm.
I let my mind wander to the dark place in my head where I am allowed to do stupid things. The place where all the problems in my life seem so big and I seem so small compared to everything. I let my mind slip into thinking it would be a great idea to just do it. To just take them like I have done millions of times before in my head. The only thing that was stopping me was me. There was no one in the house and no one will know what happened until the morning when my boss will surely text me. For a split second, I was thinking about all the things that I will lose and how horribly selfish it is to do that, especially to my dear Sammy. But that night I had enough.
I had just the amount of stress from work to make me do it. I had just the amount of sadness to make me open the pain pills. I had just the amount of worth to pop them in my mouth. I had just the amount of hate in myself to keep drinking more. After about three dramatic minutes I finished a bottle of thirty Vicodin pills and I drank half a bottle of tequila. I was happy with myself.
I wanted to drink more but I thought it would be enough. I never googled it and I only saw it in films and I thought that was enough. I left everything on the floor of the bathroom and I stumbled my way over to my bed and laid down with tears and a smile. I could not believe that I finally did it. I went past the limit where I normally stop myself.
I felt happy for the first five minutes until it sunk in.
My heart started to race and the memories of Sammy’s laugh and my family were fluttering in my head. I was thinking about all the times I ran so fast when I was a kid. The way my mom looked at me with her looks that made me smile like a dork. I thought about the days I sat reading a good book in my room during a thunderstorm. I thought about the time where I was pregnant with Sammy and how much she kicked me with her little feet. I thought about laughing with my daughter while we played tickle fights. I thought about the early mornings my ex and I had before he went to work where we would tell a quick joke before we kissed goodbye. The way ice cream tasted. The day Connor tried to teach me how to beatbox. So many memories flooded my brain where it was suffocating me.
I sat up with the sinking feeling that I was going to die. I panicked and drunkenly started to throw things and I ran into the bathroom and sat on the floor while I stuck my finger down my throat. I vomited what seemed like forever. Crying and heaving but I got most out before it did any more damage.
I cried and took a long shower and headed straight to bed. I was so sick the next day and I did not wake up for fourteen hours. I felt shaky and weak but it felt so good to feel alive.
My life was shit and nothing was going right for me, but God damn…it felt soo good to be alive.
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