We are in 2015, early 16.
I have been sad for too long. I am far from all my points of reference, my family, my friends. I do not have a job, I am on welfare. I hit bottom without wanting it. I recently lost someone who was dear to me. I am single for 3 years.
I am not well in my skin. Im depressed
Cigarette one after another. It is the tenth beer that I drink, I sink more and more. *I have never told this before. I had always hidden it.
I decide to go take a bath, I bring with me, cigarette, beer and a blade. I am determined to hurt myself.
I did not want to be here anymore. I did not want to die, I just wanted to disappear.
I took the blade, put it on my thigh
and that’s where my phone rang.
It’s her, the friend who is always in the trenches, who knows when things are not right.
I do not answer. I cry hot tears. I throw the blade on the ground.
I never thank her for calling that night but I think she knows, I’m sure.
she was one of hundreds of reasons I had to stay.
Suicide is not an option, stay;
Story submitted by Audrey-Ann