01 Snowboarding & Suicide Series: Failed Suicide Attempt

Alright let’s do this.

On November 7, 2018, I tried to kill myself. I did not plan it. I was about to buy a Chinchilla 3 hours before, right after buying the first round of Christmas decorations for the season (my fucking favorite thing in the wooorld). My boyfriend and I had had a small argument, I can’t even remember about what, but everything was, for all intents and purposes, just peachy.

I had drank a little wine, took some (prescribed) xanax, just like every.other.day. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I did decide to get out for a bit, and I went up to a restaurant by my house to get an appetizer, a drink or two, and just get out of the house. I had a good time, taking funny snapchats of the old music videos playing at the bar. Nothing but smiles.

I was a bit tipsy but not off my ass wasted. The xanny/alcohol combo (NEVER A GOOD IDEA DONT TRY AT HOME) definitely makes for some big feelings and crap but even though I wasn’t blacked out or anything, I don’t know what the catalyst was to decide to kill myself. It seems like something you would freaking remember… but I can’t.

I have thought of killing myself before, in times of chaos and emotional turmoil. I can remember those catalysts, and how I couldn’t let my little brother find me or do that to my family. On 11/7/2018, I didn’t even think about the horror that my boyfriend would feel. I didn’t think that our dumb argument earlier may haunt him forever because I wouldn’t be able to tell him that it wasn’t even a shred his fault. The way my puppy would jump on the bed the next morning, tail wagging & licking my face to wake his mama up. But no matter how many kisses he gave me I wouldn’t pet him again. I didn’t think of my family, or to leave a note, or the fact that no one really knew that I was feeling this way. I overthink everything always. There are 354432465324352 things flying through my mind at all times – wine, xanax or not. My eyes were on the prize this time.

I went to the bedroom, shut the door, said fuck it and took probably 25 pills of a medication I won’t name, but it is a sedative and blood pressure medication — making it lower. Extremely clear instructions to 100% avoid alcohol as “very serious interactions can occur.” Perfect, I thought. My knowledge of psychopharmacology from my work with substance abuse told me that this is the best medication I had to get the job done efficiently. It would take less than 30 minutes, and a type of medication with no overdose reversal medication. Soon, it would be over.

While I struggle to say that the fact my boyfriend walked in the room at that moment was anything other than coincidence, .0001 seconds before or after would have been too late. I wouldn’t have told him. He saw. He freaked out (obviously) and dragged me to the bathroom and shoved his hand down my throat to make me throw up. I made him hang up when he called 911 because I promised him I threw enough up and my family can’t know. I knew we both had only seen a few pills in the toilet, but he said fine. Soon after that, I fell asleep.

I woke up the next day wondering why my knee hurt so bad. I got up to pee, and immediately fell. For almost an entire day, I couldn’t stand or walk without immediately becoming dizzy and collapsing. My legs refused to support me, I crawled to the bathroom. My blood pressure was too low. I have insomnia and can’t sleep on a good day, and the day I take a NAP is still one I am waiting for, no matter how tired I am. I couldn’t stay awake for most of this next day either. My boyfriend took the day off of work and constantly checked if I was breathing. I wasn’t able to really understand the gravity of the situation or what almost happened. One millisecond and maybe one or two pills more and I would’ve been successful.

The day after that, I sort of was letting the reality of what happened sink in, but I still had no regrets and didn’t feel like an asshole for how I almost just hurt everyone I love and leave them with no explanation.

All I could think was….
1. What the fuck now? 
2. Why is my life so unfair that I was forced to survive? 
3. What is stopping me from trying again? 
4. Why did I not know I was depressed?

Elaboration on some answers to these questions & more about surviving failed suicide and signs that you may be blind to comin’ up!

(Also, snowboarding WILL be relevant, just hang in there)

Always here to listen.

Mina R.

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ॐ Mina R.

❁ Mina R ↠26 years old. Mental Health Blogger -I Keeps It Real { & FUN!} ☽ → Dog mom, Cannabis Enthusiast, Snowboarder ❅, Wine Seller, Unicorn, Mentally Ill Bad Bitch.

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