As I mentioned in the last post ~ this story I'm telling has undergone some deep thinking an reflection, soul searching and hesitation.
In the last post I said, it was around the 28th of August that I quit my job and supposedly had to move out of my apartment within 72 hours. I had no plans, no place I knew of to go, but somehow, in the sickness of my mind I was convinced that it would all work out. Of course, it wasn't going to and certainly didn't. During the 2 1/2 months that I was managing I was also managing to cut myself off from everyone. I still talked to my Mother twice a day, as I had for almost two years, but even she was beginning to suspect things were not right.
And what did I do for the 72 hours that I needed to make plans and provisions? I drank. When you know that your replacement is going to be coming into the office ~ connected to the apartment ~ at 9:00am, any sane person would sneak out of the apartment around 7:00am and drink until it was safe to go back ... right? Trust me on this one, there are very few bars worth visiting at 7:00 in the morning.
I would sleep a little, toss and turn, pace the floor and then sleep a little more. Rinse and repeat.
By now, I was not only at the bottom of the cliff, I was under the rocks at the bottom and trying to dig down even further. I kept trying to find ways to sleep the entire night, but nothing worked ~ even overdosing on the over-the-counter medicines that use Benadryl as the only ingredient. By now, I had stopped calling anyone I knew, was refusing to answer my cell phone and decided that I was going to have to disappear to get out of the hell I was living.
--strong stuff follows ...you have been warned...
Sometime during the night of the 31st (I believe I have the dates right), I came to a terrible conclusion. The only way out that I could see was to end everything ... permanently, finally and absolutely. No partial or half measures. This was going to be it. The final curtain. From this point on, there are flashes of what happened and what happened to me. I do not have all the pieces and may never get them back ... and probably don't want to.
I knew that I needed to get it done early in the morning, before anyone arrived in the office. Now understand that one office door was four steps from my bedroom and the other door was 7 steps to the living room. Not exactly the world's biggest space and certainly too close to the apartment to hide anything. But I managed to -- I managed to.
When I made that decision. it was as if a light switch had been turned off, there was no going back and no pain (that's important later). And so I committed suicide. No, I did not make a mistake on the verbs. I should not be alive, however, I am so grateful that it didn't succeed and that I have gone through all that I have been through. I am a very different person from what I was a number of months ago - but, you know what ~ I'm also still the same.
I took my belt and made a loop around the clothes rack in the closet because that was the strongest place and I knew it would hold my weight. A few quick breaths and I put my neck in the loop ~ forcefully. The quickness that blackness overcame me was surprising. I was done. Unfortunately to my sick mind, but fortunately for me ~ I woke up on the floor with a large gash in my forehead down to the bone - that wasn't bleeding and didn't hurt. OK, this obviously wasn't going to work ... there must be some other way.
Now, in all honesty, someone in their mind would have simply stopped after the belt failure (makes it sound like a vacuum cleaner!)and said: "Wow! That didn't work! I should stop here." But. as I said, the light switch had been turned off. I remembered the eXacto knife I had recently purchased. I also realized that my replacement was due to arrive, and hopefully would stay out of my apartment until I was done. I literally behaved like a secret agent on assignment and slithered into the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain closed. I was determined not to leave a mess for someone to clean-up.
Now, doesn't that sound healthy? Not wanting to leave a mess? I'm about to do the most selfish act a human being can do, leave people devastated and angry ... destroy any chance to accomplish anything with my life and I'm worried about a MESS?!?!?
I'd read enough books and seen enough TV shows to know what I needed to do. Don't worry, I'm not going to go into detail ... if you want that, you can email and ask. Let's just say, I ended up with three horizontal cuts in the side of my neck and very little blood. The most interesting moment was when my replacement's boyfriend came in and used the toilet while I was ensconced in the bathtub. It was at that point I finally realized this was NOT working ... and had run completely out of options. I very calmly made my way out of the bathtub ~ with my knees it was not an easy thing to do ~ and walked through the living room into the office and announced: "I've just tried to kill myself, please call 911." I then went and sat calmly in the living room and awaited whoever was going to arrive.
I have no idea what she said to the 911 dispatcher, but shortly there were police, a fire truck and EMTs in the place. I was bandaged, tried to answer the many questions that were being asked by various uniformed folks. The one that sticks (sort of) in my mind was: "Do you have any sharp objects on your person that will hurt me if I touch you?"
--part three tomorrow night