Let me take it back… all the way back. To my senior year of high school in 2015. That’s when I had my first ever panic attack. It pretty much sucked because of 1. I didn’t know what was going on and 2. I was physically in school at the moment. The reasoning behind it was stupid. Of course, it was because of a boy. The absolute love of my life. We can just call him Waldo. Waldo broke my heart for the first time. Heartbreak is no effing joke! (We could talk about my love life next time) I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t even drink. I was so hurt and angry I started to become guarded. I felt that I always needed to protect myself. I got meaner. I wanted to fight more. I lived for the drama. If someone was going to hurt me, why couldn’t I hurt them? Right? Two wrongs make a right, right? That was my horrible mentality for a while and it actually took a toll on me. Immediately after I would fight with someone, belittle someone etc I would cry. I would literally break down and bawl. I felt horrible but of course, no one could know that. It went on that way for months until I thought my only solution was to end it all. Keep in mind this was in late 2015. So yes, I have tried to kill myself more than once. I even tattooed “keep going” on my back hoping to get a little bit of motivation. I saw a bottle of Excedrin Migraine and looked at it like it was candy. There was no way I was telling anyone I was thinking of offing myself. ESPECIALLY on Christmas eve so turned to an online support website. The website said I was about 9th in line to speak to someone but it would take about 20 minutes. People? Do you know what a suicidal person can do in 20 minutes? I got sick of waiting. I got sick of listening to all the happy Christmas tunes while I was in misery. I read the bottle. “Warning: Don’t take more than 2 in 24 hours.” I took 8. Even though this was all in my head after I took all of those pills I knew it was gonna save me. That was as it. I’ve decided to just take pills when I felt sad. I ended up being sick for about a day or two. I was immediately put into therapy. (I’m not sure why I thought I could get away with throwing up for a day straight). My insides felt like they were ripping apart. I never wanted to feel that way again. I told myself I would never overdose again but I did and I did and I did until it finally put me in the hospital 2 years later. I finally got closer. During those 2 years, I let myself go physically and mentally. I went from the hot bod head cheerleader to “thick”. (I also hate the word thick and I will be blogging about it soon.) I jumped from college to college not knowing what the heck I wanted to do. Went from job to job feeling lost and hopeless. I’m working harder every day to look more toward the future. I tell myself that all I need is just 1 thing to look forward to tomorrow. That one thing each day has been changing my life. In the future, I am going to go more in depth about my hospital stay in the dirty St Josephs psych ward haha. Until then please feel free to ask me any questions or say whatever it is you have to say.
Bye guys! 💋
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