I believe every human is worthy of a second chance.
For all my seventeen years, I’ve battled a blend of bipolar, PTSD, OCD, and anxiety disorder. Deep depressions, suicidal tendencies, and feeling very, very alone are three common emotions that torture my mind. I’ve always been sad; many times I wished I wasn‘t born.
I realized a needed a solution, so I began making plans a few weeks in advance for my escape. On October 17th, at 9:30 PM, I planned to swallow 39 sleeping pills, lie down, and never wake up again.
On October 16th, I called Adam, my boyfriend. I told him that we should break up. I wanted him to hate me. I wanted him to not care so when I died, he wouldn’t blame himself… He wouldn’t be sad.
Things went as planned, and the next night, I sat ready to take the pills.
As I held the pile of sleeping pills, a friend called. I told her what was going to happen, and then hung up. At three that morning, police officers knocked my door. I lied and said I was fine so they wouldn’t drag me off to a hospital, and my mother took the rest of the pills scattered in my room. I didn’t sleep; I became afraid of what I knew would happen… and two hours later, I stumbled off to school. Pulled out of first bell because something was wrong and rushed to the hospital, I was observed for 16 hours. I am now checked every other week, to ensure I haven’t tried to hurt myself again.
When I look back on October 17th, I realize that I hoped Adam, the closest person to me, would’ve questioned my sudden change. Deep down, I hoped he’d fight for me. Then I’d have known that I was worth something to someone. When he didn’t care to find out, I felt completely worthless. These feelings gave me the strength to attempt what I did.
When my family and best friend found out about my attempt, they were shocked and ashamed. They didn’t understand why I was so sad, and why they hadn’t noticed until beyond the point of being able to help. Because I felt so worthless and sad, I didn’t think anyone would’ve actually cared.
I realize now I shouldn’t have hoped Adam would notice I was hurting. No one could’ve. This life I’m living isn’t just a fluke, there’s got to be a reason I’m here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been given a second chance to live.
I want to be worth something. I want to have a reason to fight, a reason to keep trying to reach that seemingly unreachable point of happiness in my life, ‘cause this is my second chance, and I don’t want it wasted.
If you’re given a second chance, then embrace it. You’re worth something, just like I’m worth something. Every human is worthy of a second chance.
This I believe.
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