I feel like a failure. I have failed everyone, who knows about my recent suicide attempt.
I ffeel like a loser....I didn't wanr to save myself. I was beyond saving. I didn't give a fuck, anymore.
My Dear Lord, please forgive me. My wonderful husband, I am so sorry for traumatizing you.
Same to my dear Mama and friends....Those that never gave up on me.
I can't believe thay I could do this to myself...for the third time. I feel despair within...I feel so, so sad, these days..
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
#121......I'm Not Ready For Heaven....
On October 13...which was also the anniversary of my Nana's death, and close to the time that I miscarried, my baby, a couple of decades ago, with a lot of problems in the family, with my loss of my beloved job, in the supermarket, with my half-brother's birthday coming up, the holiday season coming soon, etc., etc., etc., I attempted to end my life. And no, I am not a coward.
I got up that morning, after a very quiet, depressed weekend before, and told my husband, that I didn't want to live anumore.
I went upstairs, and tied a plastic bag over my head and hid under the blankets. My husband came upstairs, sometime later and found me, saying "What the fuck did you do, Christine".
It's the third suicide attempt, that I have made in my life. Depression is a killer.
Frank told me that if I didn't agree to go to the hospital, with him, that he would call the police & EMT's,.
I spent a week on a psychiatric ward, of a hospital. The food was awful, and some of the patients were shouting, & threatening.
What did I learn?? I had numerous friends and family visit me and tell me that they loved me, that I was beautiful & awesome, and that some people would never get over my death. I had not realized, how loved that I was before.
This gives me a more positive feeling about life. This makes me want to live.
I got up that morning, after a very quiet, depressed weekend before, and told my husband, that I didn't want to live anumore.
I went upstairs, and tied a plastic bag over my head and hid under the blankets. My husband came upstairs, sometime later and found me, saying "What the fuck did you do, Christine".
It's the third suicide attempt, that I have made in my life. Depression is a killer.
Frank told me that if I didn't agree to go to the hospital, with him, that he would call the police & EMT's,.
I spent a week on a psychiatric ward, of a hospital. The food was awful, and some of the patients were shouting, & threatening.
What did I learn?? I had numerous friends and family visit me and tell me that they loved me, that I was beautiful & awesome, and that some people would never get over my death. I had not realized, how loved that I was before.
This gives me a more positive feeling about life. This makes me want to live.
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