Two nights ago, I tried to kill myself.
I cut my wrist and forearm, it was bleeding like I’ve never seen before. I felt a huge feeling of release that I was going to actually die this time. To finalise everything, I took an overdose and I slowly fell asleep.
Sadly, I woke up the next morning. I felt awful, not because of the attempt, mainly because it seems I have come down with a nasty cold. I also felt awful because I had woken up.
The feeling that I was gonna accomplish dying was really good. I can’t explain it. I felt at peace, that dying was what was right, I just felt no worries at all. It was a nice feeling.
Since waking up, 90% of my time is thinking of ways I’d be certain to die. I think about jumping off a nearby bridge onto the M6 motorway, but Steph my counsellor said to imagine the carnage, the fact that some random person or family is gonna have to suffer the fact that they hit me. I can’t do that to someone.
So, the only thing I can think of is more cutting and more tablets than what I did 2 nights ago.