Why Am I Like This - A Series of Bad Decisions

The day it should have ended *TW:suicide*

Severe Trigger Warning.
*this chapter discussed self harm and suicide in great detail if you are feeling suicidal please get help I love you*

2014
Thanksgiving in my family was always a crazy time. This year in particular it was my moms turn to host so we had all my cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents crammed into our house for dinner. I knew it was the last day I would ever see them and I tried to keep as cool as I could throughout the night. The only slip up I had in my plan was when showing my uncle some of my last artwork I went a couple pages too deep in my sketchbook and he saw some of my darker pieces. He didn't think much of it brushing it off with a lighthearted joke about maybe I should get some help. I laughed along with him but my heart sank. I knew that I should want help but I couldn't feel it. The end of the night came too soon as I bid farewell to my family members for the last time and said goodnight to my parents before heading to bed.

It didn't take long of sitting in my room alone before putting my thought out plan into action. I crept through the halls to the bathroom and sat alone with my razor blades and began slicing. My arms, legs, stomach, and neck were nearly unrecognizable with the blood dripping down them.  It wasn't enough though. I opened a bottle of vodka I'd stolen from my parents and began drinking, trying to numb whatever little feeling I had left before going into my medicine cabinet. I grabbed 7 bottles of pills off the shelf, 6 full bottles of anti depressants I told everyone I was taking everyday and a bottle of aspirin. I took all of them at once and sat on the floor. I was ready to go as I slowly faded from consciousness a bloodied mess on the floor. No consideration for how anyone would feel finding a tragedy like this. I only cared about getting the job done.

After what felt like milliseconds of darkness I was ripped from the darkness as my body rejected the pills. I scrambled to the toilet and emptied my stomach. Coming to the realization that I'd survived brought on a new wave of sadness and I sat and cried for hours.

Suddenly I could hear my mom shouting at me to wake up and I didn't know what to do so I walked to the kitchen showing her what I'd done. Now let me tell you there is nothing worse than watching your mother's heart shatter as she looks at how you've destroyed yourself. She told my younger sisters to stay in their rooms and rushed me to the hospital.

After having my stomach pumped and my wounds tended to I was brought to a psychiatrist. I was sure I'd be locked up and I was terrified. They asked me a long series of questions about why and how I felt then and I did what any good suicidal kid does and lied my ass of. I told them anything and everything I thought they wanted to hear. To mine and my mothers absolute shock they believed me. They sent me home with a verbal promise and a smile from me that I'd never try again. It was that easy to fool the hospital and I left thinking here's my second chance to do it right. Wrong. My mom has a psychology degree and she knew me a lot better than the doctors. I was on complete lockdown for weeks, never to be left unsupervised until I could be trusted again. It took nearly a month before I was allowed to be in the house alone again.

Lesson learned: I can't even kill myself properly