I Survived 2018…Barely

Trigger Warning: Suicide

2018 was an extremely rough year. You wouldn’t think that it was with all the traveling I was doing, on top of my first book, Bingo Love, coming out. I should’ve been happy, I mean I was happy, but inside I was dead. It’s amazing what a fake smile can do.

I was dealing with some inner turmoil since March, but I had it under control… until November. I hate the holidays, like, H A T E. I despise it so much. The first week of November the dam in my head started to leak and by the second week, the dam was disintegrated.

I couldn’t stop crying.

I couldn’t stop thinking about ending my life.

I couldn’t stop feeling dead inside.

I couldn’t stop hoping that I would wind up in a car accident that ended my life. Or hoping that I’d just stop breathing in my sleep.

All the hoping I did didn’t work. So I decided to turn it up a notch.

I attempted suicide three times in December. No, that’s a lie, it was five times. I’m ashamed.

Sigh.

I no longer wanted to be alive y’all. So many crappy things were happening in my life. I was drowning and there was no one to save me. Now that I think about it, if someone was trying to help me, I’d swat their hand away. I didn’t want any help. I just wanted to go under and sink down to the ocean floor.

When I posted on Facebook people reached out to me, but I ignored the messages, and the texts, and the calls. I wanted to be left alone, I still do.

Here it is the end of January and I’m still here…existing. It’s been three weeks since my last suicide attempt and I’ve given up trying to end my life .

Since November I’ve been hiding under the covers — sleeping, crying, coming up with plans to end my life — until today.

January 27th, 2019, I said, “ENOUGH!”.

I’ve had enough of the crying, failed attempts, wallowing in self-doubt, and sadness. I opened the drapes in my bedroom for the first time in months and let the sun in. I cleaned my bedroom, did laundry and cooked. While those things might sound simple, to me, it was everything. I was motivated and I forgot what that felt like.

Hell, I haven’t written a damn thing in MONTHS! I had no urge to write anything — a tweet (and y’all know I love tweeting), a blog post, scribble in my notebook, nothin’ — until tonight. I even had an idea that made me grab my handy, dandy, notebook and I wrote a two-page outline for a new book.

I know that I have to get better, and I’m trying to do the best that I can. “Baby steps.”, as my therapist says.

After my last attempt, I finally decided to ask for help. Asking for help is one of the hardest things to do. I told my best friend that I couldn’t do it anymore and he referred me to a therapist. I then told my neurologist that I am extremely depressed and he wrote me a prescription for a SNRI. I’m guessing that it’s working, hence me writing and cleaning.

Now, I’m not sure if these feelings will continue, but I do know that there’s a little seedling that’s starting to grow inside of me. I hope that it blossoms into a beautiful flower.

While I barely survived 2018, I pray that I survive 2019, because I know for a fact that I want to live. And that’s all that matters to me right now.

Depression is real and it sucks major ass. 1 in 4 people suffer from depression, so I’m certain that someone you know or yourself is dealing with depression. In 2015,   An estimated 9.3 million adults (3.9% of the adult U.S. population) reported having suicidal thoughts in the past year. 

That’s a lot of people who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts. If you’re reading this and are struggling, I want you to know that you’re not alone. I understand what you’re going through.

Please seek help, you’re worth it, even if you don’t feel like it.

Trust me.