Dedication: ***Program-***Hospital- My family-Everyone who reads this

Hi, I am L. I am 14 and I am an attempt survivor. My reasons for it is my own but I want to talk about my journey with suicide ideation and depression.

I tried to OD on aspirin at the beginning of the year, I did it rationally, when it hit me, that what I did would kill me in the end, I told my mom. She called the police, of course, I remember one police officer was very rude to me, asking me why I OD and how I didn’t have any reason too. I was really happy when a DARE officer came into my house as a replacement for the other officer. He talked to me for a while when they got the info they needed from my mom. I was sent to the hospital in an ambulance with my mom in the front. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about why I took the pills, I was just so mad. When they took blood for me to get some lab reports they gave me this substance called charcoal, which in my case would absorb the pills or how I understood it.

It tasted horrible, I hated it. I felt so sick I thought this was worse than dying. I ended up having diarrhea and throwing up from it, which was a good thing because it meant it was working. But when the labs came back it was more severe then I thought and everyone who was treating me. when I got to the hospital no one took me seriously when I said I took a bottle of aspirin because I didn’t know how many I took and I didn’t know what kind it was or anything that could help them out. I just remember scarfing down the pills hoping it would work. But now I was knocked into some sense I finally understood, I can die. The aspirin was in my body for so long that it was affecting my kidneys and if I didn’t get help immediately I would be on paralysis the rest of my life.

When I heard that I was dumbfounded. What I remember from the hospital as they did an EKG test, X-ray, and had to take blood from my artery which hurt so badly. If you think a shot itself hurts or having your blood drawn is bad, this is 10x worse and I am not joking. When I was stable and I could get out of the ER I was transferred to a hospital for kids. The people there were so nice to me, they made sure that I was and felt safe. I was in the hospital for 3 days to recover and make sure I was stable. On one of those days, social workers came to do their job, one talked to me and one talked to my parents about my past with depression and Suicide thoughts. After a few hours past, they said they wanted me to be hospitalized for 3 days. My parents didn’t want me too, because of past trauma of being taken away from family.

I was happy I was going home, but that didn’t mean I was off the hook for what I did. another social worker came out to my school to talk to me about how things were at home. I thought this woman would take me away from my family and my home, and I told her my family treated me very well, it is just me who is messed up. When I got home, I told my mom about the social worker, she said that the social worker had come to the house to talk to her and wanted to talk to my sister and my dad. She was nice, but in that moment of shock I was so scared, I didn’t want to be apart from my family. She didn’t take me away in the end but she said that we should take some safety measures to make sure I was safe, as in lock the pills and knives.

A few days later I talked to this lady at my hospital about attending a program because I wasn’t hospitalized. At first, I hated it, I hated the idea that I needed help, even though I knew in the back of my mind I did, my pride was more important to me at the time. But I still went to the meeting at the program called **** with an open mind thinking I am not that bad. I had to pass to see if this program was a good fit for me if not I would have to go somewhere else. But I got in, I thought it will be easy it’s fine. But I was in the severe group, which was called *** where I would have to go in 6 hours a day for however long my insurance would cover, which was a month or more. I hated it at first, I didn’t want to be with people who were “scary.”

At first I was very quiet I kept to myself and I wouldn’t make any small talk with anyone. but when I got used to people in the group I felt at home. They understood me, they didn’t judge me for anything and even shared their experiences with me. I had made a lot of friends in the groups, but the rules of the program are that we cant have friends inside of the program. which I hated as well, but at least I had good memories with them I can carry around with me. The therapist there at the program was also super nice to me and didn’t treat me like a kid who didn’t know anything, they treated me with respect and they listened to me.

I was the youngest but all of the older kids looked after me, told me how it will get better. And it did, I am on medication now, I am alive and well, and I am happy. the last time I can remember I was happy was when I was a little girl. I am so thankful for all the people who have helped me and still is through my journey. I am not proud that I thought committing suicide was my only way out, but I am proud that I am an attempt survivor. It isn’t something I think I should be ashamed of. I understand what it means to have only one life, I am happy I had a chance at a second. This is why I say now, Depression, suicide ideation, self-esteem, and bullying isn’t something to be made fun of, take it seriously and make sure whoever is hurting from this knows that you are there for them

~ The hospital and program names have been omitted to help protect the storyteller’s anonymity.

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