The following is an anonymous submission for The Egg’s 2015 National Infertility Awareness Week Blog Project, #BehindClosedDoors. This brave and powerful entry is one that will resonate with many, and one that I had to share. THANK YOU to the Eggshell who sent it in, because she could be saving someone’s life with it.
If you are experiencing dark thoughts and need someone to talk to, please seek help. GoodTherapy.org offers a great search tool that will allow you to find help near you that specializes in the cares and concerns of those afflicted by infertility. Remember “You Are Not Alone”.
Regina
A month or so ago I actually tried to take my own life. I wasn’t strong enough to explain it here or anywhere else. I did write it out though, and I’m posting it now. My journey will never give anyone hope because…well I’m not pregnant and I never will be. But maybe my journey will save someone else from letting themselves lapse into a despair that seems insurmountable. Anyway, I don’t remember the exact date or time, but below is what I wrote about it.
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I tried to kill myself Sunday. I pulled out the pills, poured the water and I did it. I overdosed. I fell asleep before I knew it. It was a breeze. But then…
I woke up in the middle of the night itching all over. I thought maybe I was breaking out in hives, but couldn’t find a single bump. I slept on and off, until morning came.
I thought maybe I was fine, until I tried to stand up. I was overcome with nausea and couldn’t focus. I began my first in a string of unwanted dates with the toilet and let it slip that I’d done something stupid. I had to admit to my husband that I tried to kill myself.
He was not happy with me. He feverishly researched the impact of what I’d done. He stayed home with me out of fear that I’d stop breathing and die. I didn’t.
Now he thinks my liver will give out and keeps asking me how I feel. He made me go to the emergency room last night. I was able to stop him from wasting our hard earned money on unnecessary tests.
So I sit here waiting. Waiting to see if I effectively killed myself or waiting to see if I’ve been given a second chance. I refuse to pray about it or ask for forgiveness from anything but the universe.
I fucked up. Big time. I fucked up. So I called the shrink and made an appointment. Whatever. She’s $125 an hour. Another scam. If my liver is jacked, I won’t make it to the appointment and I won’t have to pay her. Easy.
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Thanks to the over-priced shrink, I know why I did it and believe me, I won’t do it again. I feel really dumb for attempting it in the first place. I’m human. I knew my biggest problem with this whole infertility scenario was my mind. I just didn’t know it would completely shatter. So I’m getting a handle on that and hopefully I’ll get a handle on my weight:-)
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The above was a submission to the Egg’s 2015 NIAW Project “Behind Closed Doors”. If you would like to submit a post on what goes on behind the scenes of YOUR fertility journey. Please consider sharing a submission by emailing me at Regina@thebrokenbrownegg.org
