He died from injuries he sustained while trying to hang himself. His death is still labeled as a Suicide. He was 27.
In less then 30 Days, It will be my
15th Anniversary of Surviving Suicide.
I wasn’t even aware there was a term, a Subculture of people like me.
I was 19.
I had tried Suicide before when I was 17, and my Father had to carry me into the E.R in his arms(that was the last time he held me like that).
The useless nurses and E.R Doctors thought I was just experiencing an SCN episode.
They never thought to test my
Liver Enzymes or Blood Samples for Drugs.
*I counted and swallowed 18 sleeping pills.
I was in and out of the Hospital for the next four days, missing school, but I survived Suicide.
Fast forward 1 year and four months.
This time, I would be successful.
No note. No phone call. No story.
Just consume an entire bottle of pills(preferably sleeping pills), and call it a night. Forever.
Secret plans changed.
My Nineteenth Birthday came and went.
Yes, I did devour a half of a prescription of something, but my love knocked down the bathroom door and performed the heimlich maneuver.
Pills pills everywhere.
I was not going to give up.
If I had to wake up to one more day, I would blow my head off(too bad there were no weapons in my parents house at that time).
My design was simple.
This time, my Suicide would be a Daylight Event.
A self portrait of Sylvia Plath’s Hands.
1.5 Months After My First Suicide Attempt.