By Helen
Having taken more overdoses of various medications than I can remember, I know that it wasn’t always about wanting to die. Sometimes I wanted to die, and sometimes cutting myself just wasn’t enough to stop the pain.
It wasn’t always about wanting to die
What I do know was that every time I took an overdose I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted a time out. I needed a break. Everything was spinning too fast for me to cope and I couldn’t handle life anymore. Like the old saying “Stop the world, I want to get off!”
I am now in recovery, but I still have setbacks, days when this is still a danger for me. Days when I still cut. I have lost days, I have woken up and been told about the most undignified actions I have done, I have been pumped and given anti-poisons.
My biggest fears
Why — since my biggest fear is to die alone — have I always had to say goodbye to my loved ones by letters or texts before I disappear?
Why am I scared? Because I am not convinced that we will all end up the same place when we die. And that I will die without people knowing how much I love them, and maybe, just maybe, the fear that this time will be the last time.
I choose to stay alive
My husband never thought I would hit 35, I don’t think I will ever hit 60, and that’s ok. At the moment life is ok, that’s it. I choose to live, I choose not to take a time out, because life is ok. I don’t have to be happy all the time, I don’t have to be perfect. Life doesn’t have to be perfect, just ok.
Ok is enough to stay alive.
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