[ R E A C H ]

[January]

{Quick author's note, this is a thing I wrote to deal with some PTSD issues that tormented me after a suicide attempt last January, a year ago today, which is why I'm posting this today instead of tomorrow. Seeing as it is about a suicide attempt of mine that was near fatal and I'm very, very lucky to be alive, it is potentially triggering, and I advise you not to read if you feel it would cause you distress. Be safe.}

Do you remember dying in January, Gale?

    I remember the burning in my throat after all the pills went down. It was so painful, like I’d swallowed a match. Water made it worse, and by the time I told someone what I’d done, I was crying, it burned so much I couldn’t even scream.

I flatlined three times. I remember it like this, I’d go cold. Weightless. Like I was floating on a pond of ice water. But then, the water would heat up, become electric for just a few seconds. Then go cold again, I’d float higher. I felt calm. Then the pond warmed and electrified again, and I was dragged under, yanked through the water, and slammed into the bottom of the pond, sending shockwaves of pain through my entire body.

I woke up after four days, hooked up to two IV drips, one plugged in my arm, one plugged in my hand. My entire body felt like one giant bruise, and there were wires on my chest and back, monitoring my heartbeat, my movements. I didn’t stay awake for long, I was too tired to move, or do anything more than sip water through the straw that was held up to my mouth for me. I mumbled answers to the doctor’s questions, and I fell asleep for the rest of that day.

I haven’t slept for a full night since that event. Every night, as soon as I feel myself start drifting off to sleep, I remember that feeling of being weightless. Floating, cold, calm and content, only to be yanked under the water and slammed back into my body.

I always wake up in a cold sweat, screaming into my pillow, before going back to sleep, fighting off the memories of January.