When you don’t sleep for several days, you start to hallucinate. Some people it’s visual, they start seeing things move that aren’t there. For me, it was the auditory sense that started going first. I heard chanting in the fan—deep, guttural, alien chanting.


When I was able to fall asleep it was for two hours maximum and there were no dreams. I continued like that for a while, sleeping only one or two hours every two days. The physical discomfort slowly became too much. All my muscles hurt. It was hard to eat hold food down. There was nothing but pain ahead. The time to end it all had come.


I tried to hang myself from the disability bar in the bathroom. I used ¼” thick nylon rope and made a simple slip knot. I didn’t even try breathing so I don’t know if it was enough to occlude the airways. But what it didn’t do was work in cutting off the blood supply to and from the brain. (In chokeholds, the trick to make people pass out fast is to occlude both the carotid artery and jugular vein.) I let my body drop hoping the pressure would be enough to choke myself out. It wasn’t. I wasn’t counting how long I hung, but it was obvious I wasn’t anywhere close to losing consciousness. I gave up. I cried in the bathtub with noose around my neck.


I had bruising around my neck and hurt to swallow for several days. I didn’t even try to hide it. Long hair and unobservant mom and boyfriend were enough.


If my next shipment of ambien hadn’t come in during the next couple days I probably would have tried again. Something more drastic and reckless probably like try to stab myself in the neck. I told the person who mailed it to me that they saved my life. I wasn’t exaggerating.


One thought on “

  1. I don’t know if you’ll see this. I’ll skip the hang-in-theres for something a bit more realistic. It’s incredibly hard to find a way out of your situation, that much is obvious. I would like to say that you’re your own worst enemy with the addiction, but I think I would be lying. If it’s something to dull the pain of nothingness or distract you from it with a different pain, I understand. It’s the part of you that clings to some semblance of life. As you’ve found out, the other part is worse.

    It’s hard to imagine the people around you being so indifferent, but maybe they’ve grown weary of trying to help, or simply can’t do so. This doesn’t mean they don’t care. Depression hurts everyone, but death hurts moreso. What is more selfish, asking someone to live when she wants to die, or dying when the people around you want you to live? I have no idea. Neither selfishness nor altruism is a competition, or at least shouldn’t be. Everyone does their part. You’re just doing yours, whatever it is.

    This may sound stupid, but bear with me. Maybe take a look at your previous posts. At points in time over many years, you sat down and conveyed some ideas in your brain into keystrokes, into bits, into code, into pixels on other people’s screens and back into ideas in their minds. That’s human and part of what separates you from merely a warm lump of cells. At some point, a portion of this lump we call the brain began to malfunction and degrade itself to the point where a kind of dull pain overwhelmed any incentive to be human. The pain was enough to make death the last wish of said cells, a wish to bear sheer terror in expectation of the void. The lump of cells lives on. What matters to a lump of cells? Food. Otherwise nothing matters.

    Nothing matters. Lump can do anything and nothing matters. Getting out of bed? Doesn’t matter. Putting on clothes? Going outside in the cold? Doesn’t matter. Nothing anyone does or says can hurt when nothing matters. Nothing mattering doesn’t put food on your table, but unless food doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter to go get it out of the fridge and put it in your mouth. Might as well. It doesn’t matter to type up a story about addiction and suicide, but you did anyway. Why, when nothing matters? Wait. Shit. This doesn’t make sense. Why did you do it? I thought nothing mattered. Something gave you purpose. Purpose begat ideas, ideas begat action. The saddest Genesis ever. It’s a start, at least something mattered.

    Keep mattering.

    -a friend

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