Remembering my attempted suicide

Shortly after my...attempted suicide...my school found out some things and decided they had to call my parents in. So my mom went down to the school and they told her that they should take me to the hospital for a psych evaluation. Basically, it was a horribly miserable experience. This is how it all happened. 

So the night before everything happened.. I was in a really dark place. I didn't want to live anymore. I didn't see a point in it at all. I was just miserable and alone and just when I thought my depression couldn't get ANY worse...it did. It got a lot worse. And I wanted to die. I was sitting in my room alone with my door closed, and I remember just thinking how incredibly alone and desperate I felt. I was writing in a notebook everything that was going through my mind, and let me tell you, it was morbid. And scary to think I could fall into a place that dark. This is one thing that I wrote..
"So I'm still sitting here, and I'm crying again. And I just want this all to be over. But what is it that I want to end? My life? Or all the CONSTANT miserable pain I'm in. Well, maybe you can't end one without the other."

And that is very true to how I felt. It still is. 

I didn't answer my phone at all that night. I just completely ignored everybody. I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth if I talked to someone. A few days prior to this, I guess my friends noticed I wasn't acting quite right. So they asked me what was wrong, and I opened up a little bit. Which is very rare for me...that just shows you how desperate I was to talk. 

So when I wasn't answering my phone, my friends got worried and eventually I answered one of their calls. I guess I sounded pretty messed up...but I assured her I was fine. But I honestly wasn't fine at all. 

When I'm in my room..it's like everyone forgets about me. It's like I don't exist anymore. Once again, out of sight, out of mind. 

I didn't sleep at all that night. I just sat in my bed writing, thinking, and just trying to survive. That's when I actually did something. I'm not going to say exactly what though. Eventually, at one point during the night, I threw up and just passed out. When I woke up it was about 2am, and I felt even worse than I did before that. I remember texting one of my friends...and I don't remember exactly what it said, but one line of it said something like "I'm sorry if I do something really dumb soon". Basically it was just a really long text, where I was pretty much just spilling my heart out and apologizing to her for being "stupid and dramatic lately". That's how I felt. I felt like I was annoying her and burdening her by just begin in a bad mood and by talking about things when I actually did talk. 

I actually felt bad for her and for all of my friends because they have to deal with me on a daily basis. The next day, my friends went and told my counselor at school everything that they knew happened the night before.  

I was still a wreck in school the next day. I was in a bad mood, and when I was with my friends I noticed they were acting different too. Looking back on it, I understand why. They told Andrea (my school counselor/therapist) that I guess they thought maybe I was going to hurt myself. 

When Andrea pulled me out of class, everything kind of clicked and made sense. She made me go with her to the psychologists room (which I've never been to before) and when I got there,  the school psychologist, my guidance counselor, my assistant principle, and Andrea were all in there. As soon as I walked in and saw all those people I got soo scared. I knew what they wanted to talk about with me, but I just wanted to go home and forget about everything that had happened. Basically, they were all just talking to me about stuff, and Andrea knew that I wrote things in a book when I had bad nights like that, and I always brought it with me so my parents wouldn't read it. I knew if I left it home, my mom would read it and that would be like the end of the world to me. They asked to read it, and I unwillingly let them. The stuff that was in there was bad..and it was actually funny seeing their reactions to it. Like that's how I live my life on a daily basis, and it's interesting to see how others perceive that. I really don't think any of them knew how bad off I really was at that time. 

Any time they would ask me questions.. My response would be "I don't know..are you going to tell my parents that?"  I hated so much that they told my parents things. 

I was up there with everyone pretty much all day. When my mom came..I totally freaked out and wanted to leave. It was one of the worst days of my life just because she had to come. I worked my whole life hiding things from my parents and now that was going to end. Eventually they just told my mom to take me to the hospital to get evaluated, and she did. On the way there she was yelling at me the entire time. She was so mad she had to take me. It made me feel even shittier than I did during the day. She was just complaining that now she was going to be behind in all the work she had to do. 

When I got to the hospital, I left my backpack and all my stuff in the car, and I  was in there for a while. Well, during that time, I guess my mom went out to the car and got the notebook I write stuff in, and proceeded to read EVERYTHING in it. Oh my gosh..when I found out she did that I freaked out on her. The whole reason I write is so I can vent and not have to worry about being judged or getting in trouble. And she completely took that away from me. Honestly, that more than anything is what made our relationship way worse. I still haven't forgiven her for it. 

Since that day, I have completely stopped writing on paper. I refused to write stuff just so she can look for it and invade my privacy. That is actually why I started writing this blog. Now I can go back to writing what I want, and don't have to worry about her ever even knowing it exists. 

I want to make this very clear. I'm not mad or upset with my friends for telling my school anything. The only thing I didn't like was that the school told my parents things. I wanted Andrea to know I was doing bad. I hate living lies and pretending things are okay when there really not. 

I don't really talk to my friends about the heavy stuff anymore. It's not because I don't trust them, it honestly is just because I feel bad. I mean, I don't want to deal with my problems, so why would they?


Truth be told...I'm no better than I was then. I'm just back to hiding it. I know that isn't a good thing, but that's just how I am. In my mind, it's like I'm protecting other people if I just stay quiet. That, and I do not want my parents finding out anything about me for the rest of my life. They don't help anything. They make it worse. I don't know. Maybe I'll get better eventually. I mean, I really hope so.