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Those Damned Tylenol
© Danie
For as long as I can remember I have wanted to die. I used to pray that if there was a God, he would have
pity for me and kill me. I went through a whole range of self distructive behavior. I used to take tylenol,
handfulls at a time, to 'make the pain go away'. I then moved on to self injury.
The razor became my best friend. I tryed to hide it but I couldn't because there was always blood on my sleave.
But the first cut was always a blessed release.
I haven't cut my self in over two years now, but I sometimes cry because I feel I have lost a close friend. I
can't cut my self again because It will prove that I'm weak, but I'll never again feal that blessed release.
I tryed to kill my self once, I don't know if it was really intentional, or if I don't know. But it was those
damned Tylenol. I felt so much pressure. The world was so dark, it seemed that winter the sun never came out. When
I picture the time in my mind it is always darkness. I would go to school, go home and lie in my room with the
light off, just lie there and do nothing. My mother was hard on me, I know now its because life was hard on her,
but I didn't understand it then. I remember in the darkend green hallway of my school I took a handful of pills.
For the pain you know. I had a new bottle of 25 tablets. I didn't take them all at once, or, and of this there are
no doubts in my mind, I wouldn't be here today. Also in my purse I had a bag of Motrin, I had taken them away from
a friend who had threaghtened to kill her self just the week before. I don't know how many there were, but I know I
kept track of it at the time. By the end of the school day I had finished off the bottle of Tylenol and the bag of
Motrin. But the pain was still there. I went home and went straight for the medicine cabinet. I took another handful
of Smith's brand pain reliever. I felt all jittery and weirded out, so this is what it feals like to die, I
thought. My mother came home and we got into a fight I can't remember, but I know it was my fault. That night I had
a band recital. It was the Christmas Concert. My vision was so blurred, my hands shook so hard I couldn't even play
my flute. Right after the concert I fell asleap on the couch, knowing I would never wake up. But shortly after, I
woke up and threw up all the pills I had taken.
I don't know why I did it. I'm glad on some level I didn't die. I now have a loving husband. And have started
college, and still pray to a god that I don't beleave in to take me from this world. On Feb. 21, my cousin killed
himself. He was a self injurer who cut to deep. At the viewing my uncle said if people could see the pain that was
caused by suicide they wouldn't do it. I know that's not true. I wanted my family to feal that pain for me, I
wanted them to know what they didn't know in my life. The emptyness I filled. It's a struggle that I live day to
day. Maybe one day the God I don't know will answer my prayers. Maybe I'll live to know true happiness. Maybe one
day I'll realise my worth and cherish my life. But when I go outside and the sun is shining and the birds are
singing, I catch a glimpse of what I'm struggling for.
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