The Darkness That Surrounds Her
The Following Story Contains Suicide And Mental Illness
She was jolted out of bed by the fear that was pulsating deep within her soul. It was that voice of hers telling her to end it all, and it was just the beginning of the day. She handled her palpable terror in the darkness and eclipsed her death again. She kept her pain at bay all night by covering herself up with her comforter and burrowing like a chipmunk, but now wide awake she could not escape her racing brain.
She considers getting out of bed, but right as her one foot hit the carpet her depression rushed at her. It felt as if a piano fall on her head from a second-story window and weight upon her chest stopped her from moving. She sighed realizing it was another day and that the same old horror of her mental health loomed over her. She was frozen in her distress and drowning in panic. She would not be getting up today. She called out of work again. She yanked the covers back over her and lay there crying until exhaustion sucked her back into sleep. It seemed this monster was now settling in her soul and evaporating the life out of her little by little. She needed help, and she knew it, but not today!
Lunchtime and she emerges into her kitchen scurrying about looking for food. She knew she had nothing in the house, but going out there, into the world where all the other people are requires showering and clothes. It would employ energy she did not have. She could ask a friend to come to visit and have her pick up some food for them both. Yes! That would work and then she called her friend, unlocked her front door and went back to bed. Another nap needed from all that thinking, looking out the window and using the phone was too much time and energy which she did not have to spare.
Three PM and she is all alone again. Thank the Lord. Speaking of God, talking to him would be good. Could not hurt right?
“Um Dear God, it’s um me. You know the one you gave this mental disease to? I am the one who really cannot explain it to my family or friends because you banished me to the black island of an isolated life. Well, yeah, thanks for that crap by the way. While I am thanking you for that, let me say thanks for the matching anxiety and depression, as well. Kudos to giving me way more than I could ever handle. Lord if you could just end my life. I would greatly appreciate that, as well. I do not want to live; I want to die; I want to end the madness in my head and be done. I cannot, nor will I live another day, if you will not handle this, I will. Yeah, great talk, God.”
Dinner, she does not stir. She is back in bed and under the covers. She wants this nightmare to end. She puts on Netflix and sinks deeper into her despair. Hunger hits, but she ignores it, her stomach rumbles in disagreement of not feeding it. The sun sets, and she stumbles to the kitchen for water. She walks down the dark hall to her room, which is lit by the TV. All her medications are on the nightstand waiting for her to take them. She ignores them and puts on another show, then another, and another and then the TV goes dark. Putting on her bedside lamp, she reads. Her medicines are still waiting for her to take them. She reads a chapter of a book but throws the book at the TV. She reaches to take her medicines and swallows them all. Every single pill. Why not end the madness? Tomorrow will be another shit storm. More questions from friends asking why she does not just get up, shake it off and come out. They do not understand what turmoil is in her brain.
She is not feeling too well with all the pills in her stomach. She drinks more water and tries not to succumb to sleepiness. She knows it is the pills, and she is not tired. She jumps up, alarmed at taking all those pills. She runs around looking for her cell phone. She cannot think straight, and she falls over onto the bedroom floor. She is in so much pain. She is thrashing about the floor like a fish out of water. Then she sees it, her phone under her bed, grasping for it she has to wiggle under the bed and grabs it.
She needs to call 911. She knows they will lock her up. She does not want to go. She needs to call a friend. Someone will make it before she is dead. She thinks to call a family member and say goodbye. She stops to think, to process it all and falls asleep. The drugs are strong, and her system starts to shut down.
She is slipping from consciousness when her friend returns. Her friend knew she would require feeding again and knew nothing was in the house. She put the Chinese food on the counter and looks around the apartment. She cannot find her friend. Thinking she went out, she looks outside. She did not see her friend’s car when she came either time. She finds it by another apartment and questions why the car is parked in such an odd spot. She goes back into the apartment and hears a moan. She flicks on all the lights, and she follows the moan. Still nothing, she trips and realizes her friend is under the bed. Struggling to pull her out she notices all the empty pill bottles on the nightstand. Grabbing her phone, she dials 911 and tells them to hurry. She cannot check for a pulse as she is squeezed under the bed.
The ambulance arrives. They get her out from under the bed and no pulse. She finally got her wish, to end it all. The emergency personal start doing CPR right away. She opens her eyes and jerks. The E.M.T. struggles to confine her and straps her to a gurney.
She wakes when the sun is up. She remembers being sick all night and throwing up. She feels deflated, beaten, and tries to scratch her head; she is tied down. What has happened? What did she do? Why does she want to end it all? She thinks it’s a brand new day. She forgets her discussion with God, and she struggles to remain positive. She realizes the depression and despair of her anxiety seem at bay right now. She then notices an IV drip into her arm. They are filling her full of happy drugs. She knows she will be home again another day, she will again have a nightstand full of drugs, and she can be more successful the next time around, but for now, she would go along with the doctors and say yes, nod, smile, and pretend that they are helping her. She knows that her hands are tied today, but there is always tomorrow to attempt suicide again.