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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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