It’s been a few days since I’ve blogged for my 30 day challenge, but I decided to take the weekend off for my birthday. I knew that I would be on the go and not really thinking about blogging, so I just went ahead and took a break. Today’s topic is another really personal one that I don’t really like to talk about, but again you just never know who you might reach with words. It asked me to name a time that I thought about ending my own life… Well here goes.
Outside of my family and my closest high school friends at the time, there probably aren’t too many people who know this about me. Before Trey came along, I got pregnant during my junior year of high school. If my memory serves me correctly, it wold have happened around the time that our basketball team won the state championship and my grandma let me stay with Trey’s dad and his family in Richmond for the weekend after the win. I didn’t plan for this to happen at all, but it did out of pure ignorance in thinking it couldn’t and wouldn’t happen to me personally.
Well if that wasn’t disappointing enough for my loved ones and even more damaging to ME, I became depressed about the situation altogether. My mom was forcing me to go through with an abortion I wasn’t comfortable with at the time. While I knew deep down that my mama was right and I didn’t need a baby at 17, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around getting an abortion. I knew I had messed up, but in a way I just wanted it all to go away magically so I could live the life of a normal teenager again. To make matters worse, my boyfriend at the time was actually mad at me about the the possibility of abortion like I was supposed to just refuse to do as I was told… The drama in my life was seemingly at an all time high, but of course it wasn’t the end of the world despite what I thought at the time.
I did end up getting that abortion on prom night, and I remember feeling so empty afterwards… so misunderstood and out of place. I refused to call and talk to my friends while they were enjoying prom, and I remember spending that night crying. So I tried to cut my wrist. However, my retarded/thinking it’s the end of the world/young, naive 17 year old self never really was good at hurting myself physically. Picking over scabs seems to be as far as my mind can go. I would purposely place the knife in the opposite direction of the way you would do it if you were actually trying to commit suicide. Honestly I never broke through the skin even once, but I made it so that I could feel a burn. In my mind I felt like I was giving myself some sort of break from emotional pain by making it physical.
I don’t know what turning point happened in my life that made me no longer keep that knife in the top drawer of my nightstand, but I haven’t had any episodes like that SINCE high school. Even though I knew that I was never really capable of harming myself physically, I know there are some people out here who have struggled with this in the past as well. Just know that we all go through things, but they’re never permanent. Nothing is worth ending your life over. I may not have gone through with my illicit thoughts, but you never know who will. People ignore signs of suicidal tendencies way too much and then find that it’s too late. We gotta pay attention… depression is real, mental illness is real, and suicide is real!
SN: As far as prom goes, to this day I still have a bad taste in my mouth about it. I only went to prom for my sophomore year and randomly find myself telling people how overrated I’ve always thought it is… Guess you know why now!