Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The Day I Almost Died

I remember it like yesterday. As I find myself with some of the same feelings I did in the after math of that day, I reflect on what happend before so that it may not happen again.

May 15, 2006, I was 22. My judgment day, a day that has had lasting repercussions 
even to now. I was having a panic day at work. My girlfriend of the 
time, Sachia, ended it with me. Love of my life, over just like that. 
I lost it. Never did I want or feel a need to hurt her, but at the 
time an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and despair washed over 
me. Yet somehow I maintained composure and a relative calm. 

I asked to stay a few minutes, collect my nerves to drive. Secretly I thought 
she was joking or unsure. As I watched 24 and glanced over at her the 
life and vibrancy in her eyes she had when seeing me was gone. I knew 
then it was over. Maintaining composure, I proceeded to the bathroom. 
In what is my lowest, most pathetic moment, I raided the medicine 
cabinet. I started taking everything. Excedrin, Tylenol, even 
menstrual cramp medication. I must have had at least 30 Tylenol, they 
had a huge bottle and it was candy. I went back a few times but that 
look sent me right in. 

Finally her dad asked me to leave. I tried 
giving her one last hug, but she stood there emotionless and cold. I 
went out to my car. I didn't make it inside. When I was taking the 
pills it wasn't so much that I wanted to commit suicide, but more a 
case of hurting myself bad enough to put me in the hospital and maybe 
she will forgive and come see me. How stupid and naive that was. That 
only made things worse. 

As I proceeded to my car, the feelings hit me 
like a Mack truck. I slammed my head hard as I could by my side 
window. The glass shattered and deeply dented a corner I hit. I 
stumbled back to the door, not asking for help, but asking to see 
Sachia again. Apparently in the shower, no doubt cleansing herself of 
me. Then I went to her room, and in a last ditch effort, tried to 
arrange some of our pictures and leave an apology. 

I went back to my car, got in, and slammed my head into the steering wheel numerous 
times. I must have done it till I passed out. I awoke several hours 
later in a pool of my own vomit and blood. It was everywhere, and what 
saved my life. Somehow I made it back home, despite being an emotional 
wreck. The rest is blurry. 

I know I tried going back over there the next day. I know I called Cingulars employee help line, and they told 
me to go to the hospital. I did. They did some tests and sent a social 
worker in. Sachia ignored their calls. Thank God for my friend Jennifer coming 
up there to check on me. In the aftermath of this, she helped me stay 
stable, and for that I will always be grateful. My only regret is that 
I didn't follow what Jennifer told me to do. Had I not pestered and nagged 
Sachia might still be on speaking terms. While I would give anything 
to be able to talk to her again, I must accept that ship has sailed. 

It's only now, years after it all happened, that I can freely talk about it without it bringing me 
to tears or threat of panic attack.

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