JasperTheReckless
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2011
- Messages
- 339
It all started with a text message.
I recently moved out to Indiana, staying with a friend of mine. It's a long story, but to sum it up, I attempted suicide. I've posted on here before about my concerns about that, and I know several of you have responded; but in the end I lost hope. But I got lucky, and I'm still here.
I lost contact with a very close friend shortly before I moved out here, about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from her, and I was getting scared; terrified really, that something bad had happened. The little bug in the back of mind kept gnawing. On and off since I moved out here, I have been texting her, calling, more and more frequently, growing more and more worried. Sunday, I got news from her brother that she had committed suicide. I had never hurt so badly in my life. It felt like all the noise in the world, everything everywhere, stopped. Silence. One of the best friends, i've ever had, gone.
I lost my mind. I have never before in my life been speechless, but no words came. Nothing.
+0:00
I did what I do best. I drowned the pain. Time collapsed, and here I am at the store. Stole three bottles of Robo (354mg) and made my way back to the house.
8:00pm I downed one before I got out of the store, one before I got back to the main road.
The walk home was a blur. I got home, and I called a close friend of mine, of Hanna's, We'll call him Wobbles. He reacted, much the same, he couldn't stay on the phone. He had to go. He cried, I did too. I wandered around the house, everything was bullshit. I hated, everything. I thought about it, I really did. It hurt to know my friend was dead, but it hurt so much more to imagine how bad, how horrible it must feel to want to die, and succeed.
My friend whom I am living with returns home.
9:30pm The first wave of DXM hit, and my thoughts were flying, racing, hurting. I downed another
10:30pm I asked my friend, we'll call him M, to take me to the store. He asked why, and I said please. Please. I gave him my wallet and everything in it, I said please. We went to the store.
I stole two bottles (354mg each) and seven boxes of CCC's (480mg) as well as a hundred count bottle of generic Dimenhydrinate tablets.
11pm: We went home. I downed another bottle, and walked in circle around the house. My insides were shreds, my mind was in pieces. Everything, hurt. I called my aunt, my mom, anyone.
Everyone.
I couldn't imagine five minutes from now, a second from now, because the world was broken. I drank the last bottle.
Midnight.
I sat at the kitchen table and tore open all the boxes of pills. I punched them through the foil, I took them. Silly fucks. Repulsive red coating. Assholes selling drugs to kids. Fuck it all. I want none of it. I took them. forty, fifty, maybe. I drank the water.
It wasn't fast enough, I needed to no be, to forget, to ease this ache. Now. Immediately. Right now. I counted out the Dramamine, I took fifteen. Maybe more. Maybe alot more. But I stopped counting at fifteen. Maybe that's all I took, maybe I didn't care anymore.
I watched Hanna's favorite movie.
Oddly enough, mine too.
Donnie Darko. I blacked out halfway through. My body knew what was going to happen, and it knew I didn't care that it was happening. My body dug it's claws in, and held on. It fought.
My temperature skyrocketed, and plummeted. My heart tried to explode, it tried to stop. I couldn't stop moving, I convulsed, I shook, I chewed up my mouth, I cried, I tried to speak, and couldn't. My whole being was in agony. And through it all, the nightmares. The hallucinations, all over the walls. In my head, in my eyes, all over my skin, in my ears, nose mouth, in my life. Everywhere, was her face. Dead. I wanted to die. I begged the drugs, try harder.
My bones, my muscles, grated, stretched, tore, inside my head I screamed, I just wanted anything to stop, all of it. I closed my eyes, to hide, but the hallucinations grew worse, more vivid, torturous, people getting shot, tortured, stabbed, mutilated, howls of agony, I just wanted to be dead.
M told me I had a seizure. I can believe it. monday morning I woke, easily soaring clean over third plateau. I had no motor skills, I had no coordination, I remembered sunday, and back into hell I went. I have never been so tortured.
My boyfriend came home early from fall break, to be with me. I blacked out for most of the day, but I came to in his dorm, I cried, almost all night.
I awoke tuesday and my muscles were on fire. My bones felt like needles, and my heart felt like lead.
I called Hanna's best friend, R, and I started crying almost immediately when she answered.
I told her the news, and she broke down, screamed at me, called me a liar. She hung up.
I stopped caring about my life.
--------------------
R texted me, and was furious she told me she had just called Hanna, a few seconds ago, this time, I was furious.
I demanded she give me the number. I sent that text I don't know how many times, probably until I got the reply.
I called Hanna, I heard her voice, I handed my boyfriend the phone, and fell on the floor.
Her brother played a sick joke on me, and a whole contact list full of people. A full grown man, with nothing better to do than to torture.
The sickest part is he knows her so so well, all the details he told me, they fit. Perfectly.
I wanted to throw up, I wanted to cry, but mostly, I just felt happy. Pure, clean, such a good feeling. One I have never felt so strongly in my life.
Happy.
I called Hanna again, and when she answered, I couldn't talk, I started crying, and she asked me what's wrong, and I replied, "I'm just checking....I love you. Don't you ever, think of trying something like that, you know?" She laughed, and said "Love you too. I'll talk to you later"
I can't really remember the rest of the day. But, I think I can understand why it's important for me to live. Why I have to hang in there, even on the bad days, the rough ones. Because I matter. If I felt that way about one person, I can't imagine how all the people in my life would feel, should I be gone.
I'm not mad at Jordan, I think this is a lesson, I needed. And I will take it for that, a lesson.
-------
And maybe, just maybe, it's something more.
Thanks for reading.
-Chris
I recently moved out to Indiana, staying with a friend of mine. It's a long story, but to sum it up, I attempted suicide. I've posted on here before about my concerns about that, and I know several of you have responded; but in the end I lost hope. But I got lucky, and I'm still here.
I lost contact with a very close friend shortly before I moved out here, about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from her, and I was getting scared; terrified really, that something bad had happened. The little bug in the back of mind kept gnawing. On and off since I moved out here, I have been texting her, calling, more and more frequently, growing more and more worried. Sunday, I got news from her brother that she had committed suicide. I had never hurt so badly in my life. It felt like all the noise in the world, everything everywhere, stopped. Silence. One of the best friends, i've ever had, gone.
I lost my mind. I have never before in my life been speechless, but no words came. Nothing.
+0:00
I did what I do best. I drowned the pain. Time collapsed, and here I am at the store. Stole three bottles of Robo (354mg) and made my way back to the house.
8:00pm I downed one before I got out of the store, one before I got back to the main road.
The walk home was a blur. I got home, and I called a close friend of mine, of Hanna's, We'll call him Wobbles. He reacted, much the same, he couldn't stay on the phone. He had to go. He cried, I did too. I wandered around the house, everything was bullshit. I hated, everything. I thought about it, I really did. It hurt to know my friend was dead, but it hurt so much more to imagine how bad, how horrible it must feel to want to die, and succeed.
My friend whom I am living with returns home.
9:30pm The first wave of DXM hit, and my thoughts were flying, racing, hurting. I downed another
10:30pm I asked my friend, we'll call him M, to take me to the store. He asked why, and I said please. Please. I gave him my wallet and everything in it, I said please. We went to the store.
I stole two bottles (354mg each) and seven boxes of CCC's (480mg) as well as a hundred count bottle of generic Dimenhydrinate tablets.
11pm: We went home. I downed another bottle, and walked in circle around the house. My insides were shreds, my mind was in pieces. Everything, hurt. I called my aunt, my mom, anyone.
Everyone.
I couldn't imagine five minutes from now, a second from now, because the world was broken. I drank the last bottle.
Midnight.
I sat at the kitchen table and tore open all the boxes of pills. I punched them through the foil, I took them. Silly fucks. Repulsive red coating. Assholes selling drugs to kids. Fuck it all. I want none of it. I took them. forty, fifty, maybe. I drank the water.
It wasn't fast enough, I needed to no be, to forget, to ease this ache. Now. Immediately. Right now. I counted out the Dramamine, I took fifteen. Maybe more. Maybe alot more. But I stopped counting at fifteen. Maybe that's all I took, maybe I didn't care anymore.
I watched Hanna's favorite movie.
Oddly enough, mine too.
Donnie Darko. I blacked out halfway through. My body knew what was going to happen, and it knew I didn't care that it was happening. My body dug it's claws in, and held on. It fought.
My temperature skyrocketed, and plummeted. My heart tried to explode, it tried to stop. I couldn't stop moving, I convulsed, I shook, I chewed up my mouth, I cried, I tried to speak, and couldn't. My whole being was in agony. And through it all, the nightmares. The hallucinations, all over the walls. In my head, in my eyes, all over my skin, in my ears, nose mouth, in my life. Everywhere, was her face. Dead. I wanted to die. I begged the drugs, try harder.
My bones, my muscles, grated, stretched, tore, inside my head I screamed, I just wanted anything to stop, all of it. I closed my eyes, to hide, but the hallucinations grew worse, more vivid, torturous, people getting shot, tortured, stabbed, mutilated, howls of agony, I just wanted to be dead.
M told me I had a seizure. I can believe it. monday morning I woke, easily soaring clean over third plateau. I had no motor skills, I had no coordination, I remembered sunday, and back into hell I went. I have never been so tortured.
My boyfriend came home early from fall break, to be with me. I blacked out for most of the day, but I came to in his dorm, I cried, almost all night.
I awoke tuesday and my muscles were on fire. My bones felt like needles, and my heart felt like lead.
I called Hanna's best friend, R, and I started crying almost immediately when she answered.
I told her the news, and she broke down, screamed at me, called me a liar. She hung up.
I stopped caring about my life.
--------------------
R texted me, and was furious she told me she had just called Hanna, a few seconds ago, this time, I was furious.
I demanded she give me the number. I sent that text I don't know how many times, probably until I got the reply.
I called Hanna, I heard her voice, I handed my boyfriend the phone, and fell on the floor.
Her brother played a sick joke on me, and a whole contact list full of people. A full grown man, with nothing better to do than to torture.
The sickest part is he knows her so so well, all the details he told me, they fit. Perfectly.
I wanted to throw up, I wanted to cry, but mostly, I just felt happy. Pure, clean, such a good feeling. One I have never felt so strongly in my life.
Happy.
I called Hanna again, and when she answered, I couldn't talk, I started crying, and she asked me what's wrong, and I replied, "I'm just checking....I love you. Don't you ever, think of trying something like that, you know?" She laughed, and said "Love you too. I'll talk to you later"
I can't really remember the rest of the day. But, I think I can understand why it's important for me to live. Why I have to hang in there, even on the bad days, the rough ones. Because I matter. If I felt that way about one person, I can't imagine how all the people in my life would feel, should I be gone.
I'm not mad at Jordan, I think this is a lesson, I needed. And I will take it for that, a lesson.
-------
And maybe, just maybe, it's something more.
Thanks for reading.
-Chris
