integrating's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How bout some honesty here I was thinking about the time I almost really succeeded at suicide. I chugged a full bottle of Xanax while my boyfriend was talking with a girl. That wasn't the reason. There were other reasons, but it was the trigger. I sat in the car waiting. He finally came back and I threw my debit card at him and told him to give it to my kids because I wasn't going to need it where I was going. Then he saw the empty pill bottle on the floor by my feet. He rushed me to the hospital. He was on drugs and paranoid and didn't want to go in with me. The drugs were kicking in. I walked into the hospital and went into the bathroom to look at my face for some reason. My boyfriend had come in and told a nurse the girl in the bathroom overdosed on pills. The nurse came in and I walked past her. I was about to pass out. I heard her behind me.. I saw a gurney up ahead. I headed straight for it and I didn't think I was going to make it, but I did. I laid down on that gurney and passed out. Lights out. Next thing I remember I was standing in front of a very pissed-off-looking woman Dr. holding out a charcoal shake for me to drink. I looked down at myself and was in a hospital gown. I looked at the charcoal mixture and thought, "I can chug anything." I swallowed it all without blinking. The angry Dr. walked away without a word. I thought, "Oh yeah. You think you're the shit?" So I turned around and walked out of the hospital, gown and all. I made it to the parking lot til a nurse caught up to me and grabbed my arm and led me back. Lights out. Next thing I remember I woke up on a table with restraints on my wrists and ankles. I saw my poor mother and step-dad in the corner. My boyfriend called them. They drove down 2 hours to see me. My mother walked over and I screamed at her to go the fuck home and took the deepest breath I could and screamed it all out. Now all I can remember of that moment is the look on my mother's face. A memory that kills me. I raised hell. Lights out. I could barely open my eyes and my boyfriend's brother was standing there. I was confused. Why was he there. Boyfriend was too tweaked out to come in. Lights out. I later found out I still had the charcoal shake around my mouth. Next thing I remember I came to and my ankles were no longer in restraints. I quietly sat up for no reason. Wrists still bound. An orderly walked by and saw me sitting up and says, "Oh no you're not." He then attempted to restrain my ankles. The hospital cop came to help him. I was screaming, calling the orderly "Science Guy", and the cop, "SuperCop". I could see a grin on one of the Dr.s faces...After what seemed like 10 minutes they couldn't pry my ankles apart and gave up. Lights out. Days pass. I wake up in another ward in a private room. I slowly open my eyes and there's a young black man in scrubs smiling at me. "I changed your diaper." Lights out. Brief memory of talking on the phone to my oldest son screaming about how they were violating my rights. Lights out. Next thing I remember is sitting at the end of a bed with a Dr. and my mother in the room. The Dr. was telling me they were going to send me to the State Hospital. I said, "Oh no you're not. I'm going home with my mother!" They tell me I was in a coma for three days. At the time I was living in my boyfriend's car with him. I have no idea why I stayed with him. I didn't do drugs except my prescriptions and smoking weed. I went home with my mother and three days later was off to be with my boyfriend. I don't know why my mother didn't try to stop me. It took 5 years of abuse and a lot of losses to realize I was wasting my life with this guy. Last time I called the cops on him he had pulled a butcher knife on me. That was the last chance I was going to give him to kill me. I left the apartment and went to the Battered Women's Shelter. This was June of 2010. They only let you stay three months. When time came to leave they were going to send me to a shelter I had stayed in before that was disgusting. A girl who had just left the shelter said I could stay with her and her boyfriend, (abuser), in their hotel room. The boyfriend didn't want me there so after 2 nights the girl tells me the manager was coming to tell me to leave. This was at 9 pm. I had nowhere to go. I called my now ex-boyfriend's brother and he paid for a night at the hotel so I could have a place to sleep. I called my oldest son, Kris, and told him what was going on. "This is some shit! I'll come get you tomorrow." He was living in Austin and had a class to go to so I was waiting in the parking lot til almost 5 pm. Lucky he had GPS, I would never have been able to tell him where I was. So he drove down from Austin and finally after sweating it out all day in the parking lot he showed up. I was never so grateful for anything in my life. I kept saying, "Thank you, thank you." He said, "Why do you keep saying that?" I said, "because I am so grateful." I stayed with him from Sept 2010 til May 2011. He had already made plans to move to Colorado to attend school and was packing his things up every day. My disability finally came through and my mother let me come live with them. I was only there for two months. By then I had saved enough money to get an apartment in San Antonio. I had to go back to San Antonio because I needed medical care and I no longer had a vehicle and they have an excellent bus system. So I was calling ads on Craigslist for a roommate. I had two to look at. My mom and I stayed in a motel so I could try to find a roommate. Luckily I got approved by one. We were so grateful. Things were finally looking up. So I pay the guy my rent and went back to Kingsland to get my stuff out of storage and make the trip back to San Antonio. The guy had fudged the truth about who he was and what he really did for a living. The ad made it sound like he was a businessman who would frequently be out of town. He looked like a young professional when I met him. I asked him what he did for a living. He said he helped pharmaceutical companies develop drugs. Truth was, he was a 20 yr old a living. I could go on and on about the next four months, but that would take up too much time and was all pretty petty shit. Anyway, I could only take it for four months. By now it's December 2011. That's how I ended up in the apartment I'm in now. Aside from the move I made to Rockport against my better judgement, I've been here since December 2011. That Rockport "adventure" SEALED my determination not to ever let a man abuse me in any way shape or form. I don't even have a desire for another man in my life. It turns me off to think about being with a man. So here I am. Living like a recluse, difficult life without a car and still am not happy. I feel lucky my apartment was still available and thank God every day that I'm back like I never left, but...I'm sad. My oldest is 30 and lives in Florida. My youngest is 18 and lives 30 minutes away, which is nothing, but neither of us have a car. I've hurt them and my mother with all the bad choices I've made in my crazy crazy life. Living my life without being diagnosed or treated for a lot of mental problems for way too long. I'm on meds now, but I keep doing stupid things, like running off and moving to Rockport. I have to take a medication that keeps me from crying all the time. I don't know why I'm rambling. I just wanted to tell "the suicide story". Just feeling down. 11:29 a.m. - 04.14.13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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