I sat with the knowledge of what I was going to do for most of the night. I weighed and measured the options of method and finally, I settled.
Grief sucks and makes people crazy. And I’m allowed to be crazy. But there is a limit. I reached that limit and then some.
I wrote my letter. Saying goodbyes and I’m sorry and I love you and thank you to the people that I could. To my mother, I apologized for not being the daughter she wanted.
While I was writing, I felt him here. The air in the room changed. He was screaming at me. I told him, “Fine. If you can find a way to stop me, I won’t follow through.” But I kept writing. He kept screaming.
The method I decided on was pills. Then I researched the pills to take that I have in my room. Because the normal pills that I would have used, I don’t have any of. So I found the correct combination and I set out the amount needed on my pillow.
Then I watched Dancing Queen on Netflix. As those pills sat on my pillow, I argued with a ghost. Crying at him to stop me. I sent him a message on FB, begging him to stop me. That if he could stop me, I’d listen.
Two hours went by. Lots of tears happened. And finally I decided to take them. But first a bathroom break. I didn’t want that mess for my mother to clean up on top of finding me dead.
I told him one more time, “If you give me a sign, I’ll put the pills back.” I got to the bed reached for the pills and someone messaged me: my ex. They sent me a post from my favorite t-shirt place and there was my sign.
I apologized for not being what they needed and they apologized to me as well for not letting go when they saw the end was nigh. And then I told them what they had stopped. And the flood gates opened. I sobbed more. Through snot bubbles and autocorrect I got out what I had been trying to get out for three hours. I thanked them at the end.
In between all of that, I started and erased, a post asking if anyone was up to talk. I couldn’t hit the publish button. I didn’t have the strength to stop myself from ending my life and I didn’t want to ask for help either.
But I stopped myself. And that’s what all.