(WARNING DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUICIDAL ISSUES) I was in high school and everything fell apart, I was living with my abusive Vietnam vet father and sarcastic angry stepmother. They made me feel like everything was wrong in the world was my fault and that I could do no right. I was so afraid, I would meditate deeply and this is where the images I show you come from (see early posts). The art work you see.
One evening they emotionally beat up, and I felt trapped, my own mother would not let me move in with her. There was no place to go and I could not take it any longer. I took the family’s yellow station wagon, went to the drug store and bought 2 bottles of deep sleep II sleeping pills. Then I went around to corner to the 24 hour diner. I ordered a extra large Seven-Up. It came with ice in a large styrofoam cup. Then, I found a man there who seemed homeless with leathery tan skin and a withered white unkempt beard. I gave him all the rest of my money in my wallet, he protested, but I insisted. From there I drove the family yellow Oldsmoble to the woods. I took one and a half of the 2 large bottles of pills with the Seven-up. As an Eagle Scout, I had created a noose, and was going hang myself from the soccer goal, figuring that both a rope and the pills should work. The only thing was I had to get the picnic table to the goal post, and it was too heavy to carry. I crawled under the table and really put my back into it, however I could only drag the table because of its massive weight. But wanted this to be right,(and I did not want this to seem desperate so I did not want to drag the table) I did not want to look like a desperate act when the police were to come and find my body in the morning, I did not want to drag the table and rip up all the grass, I had some sense of pride in this act. Then as I was under the table and I tried to lift it with my back, I suddenly panicked. I got back in the family stationwagon and suddenly I could feel the effect of the pills. I bit my lip HARD, to stay awake and a drove home – some how, some way, God willing, I put the car in the garage.
I slipped into the house, climbed the stairs to find my father towering over me at the top of them. He was filled with anger. My stepmother leers at me, “look at his eyes, he is on drugs” I explained to him that I had attempted, he did not believe me, I even told them were to find the pill bottles (I threw them in the trash at home.) They don’t believe me, my father drags me into the bathroom to urinate in a large green cup the family uses for drinking water (I guess he wanted it for for drug testing?). Then I am released, from his grasp to go to my room. But this is not over, I have MANY PILLS in my stomach, I am too incoherent to know what to do, perhaps it is the end. No my personal hell gets worse, and first there are a few, then many…ants, I was covered in black carpenter ants on my white undershirt, I ripped it off, they are everywhere. I am banging my hands on the walls of my bedroom, they are everywhere they are eating me alive -after what seems an eternity in hell (I was hallucinating from all the sleeping pills) Is there no God – PLEASE SAVE ME ANYONE P-L-E-A-S-E. I yell, cry and beg for help. My father and stepmother call no ambulance, nothing, no savior, no stomach pump, nothing. My parents punishment is the near death hallucinations which I caused myself. I deserve to die. The next morning, as the orange dawn rises, I look through my blinds, and I can see a few ants climbing on the blinds, but I know now they are not real just a continued visual hallucination from the night before. I survive, no one cares.
I feel hopeless, I feel that I get what I deserve.
I know this is a dark post, but I feel it needed to be shared.