I Chose Life
I held the pills in my hand, fully prepared for whatever awaited me on “the other side”. I took comfort in the fact that everything was already in order, everything set right so I could leave everyone in peace. Feuds had been settled, my grades were sky high, and everyone close to me was made fully aware of how much I loved them. I had made sure of that in my last few weeks, and in the note I quickly scrawled down and left on the kitchen table.
In my hand were twelve extra strength Advils. I had no clue how many it would take to finish me off, but twelve was far more than the maximum dose recommendation so I was sure that it would do the trick.
I began popping them in, one by one. No water, or any other medium to aid in the swallowing. Normally, I could never swallow pill without water. But I suppose today was something of a special occasion, so to speak. I swallowed the twelfth Advil with ease, and then lay down on my bed awaiting death.
That’s the worst part, I think. The anticipation. The waiting. I refused to let myself get frightened. After all, this is what I wanted. This is what I chose. I did my best to not think. Not think about anything. It wasn’t an easy task, after all what else is there to do while waiting to die?
My mind strayed toward my family. Toward what had been my life up to now. I tried to force myself to suppress sentiments. No one loved me. No one cared about me. I was a worthless, useless, pointless hunk of flesh on this Earth. But the more I thought about that, the more I kept thinking…was it really true? Do I actually believe all of those things? I thought about the last letter I had written, the one on my kitchen table at that moment. I mentioned many people in that letter, all of whom I loved. Did they love me back?
I thought back to all the wonderful moments of my life. Of course, there were quite a few dark times, hence my current situation. But there were plenty of beautiful memories that flooded my mind.
My boyfriend came to mind. I know he loved me, and I loved him. I remembered before we were dating, and how what was now a wonderful relationtionship, had once been nothing more than a crush. Thinking back on it, I realized that my favourite memory was that first kiss. The one that had stuck with me for days after. The one that was nothing more than a silly dare from my friends.
Thinking of the dare, my thoughts shifted to my friends. We had shared so many good times, before my life had become so dark. I thought back on countless trips to the movie theatre, youth dances and parties. There were tones of dares, pranks, and recklessness. What would things be like for them once I wasn’t there anymore?
I thought about my family as well. As far as I knew, they weren’t aware that anything was wrong. That had been my own fault, I suppose. I hadn’t told them anything. I covered up the scars on my wrists. It wasn’t fair of me to make them play a guessing game, instead of just telling them that I was sick. Of course, I knew exactly what would happen upon discovering me. My mom would cry her eyes out and blame herself. My dad would act tough and brave around everyone else, but then cry his eyes out in privacy. My sister. My sweet, little sister. What will she do without me? How will she get through elementary school and high school after this, where bullies and brats suck the life out of people like parasites? I know exactly what she’ll do, she’ll withdrawal from life, just the way I had. She would lock herself in her room, and be uncontrollable at my funeral. I felt a sudden pang of guilt for what I had done.
As all of these memories flooded my mind, it hit me suddenly like a slap in the face. I really didn’t want to die. Life isn’t so bad, all I have to do is turn it around and make it right. Why hadn’t I done that? Why hadn’t I told someone?!
I tried to cry out, but I couldn’t find a voice. I was too weak. With the little energy I had left, I rolled off my bed in an attempt to throw myself at the ground. Anything to make a thud, anything to make myself heard. Who knows how long I lay there. Just like that, my life was snuffed out just as easily as blowing out the flame on a candle. Just when I chose life, it was too late. Too late to be saved, too late to be heard. I was already dead.
Suicide. It’s a choice. Choose life.