Can we pls inform everyone here of the things to watch out for when we get to our lowest points:
My contribution:
Alcohol - specifically red wine - led me to take an overdose. I phoned the mental health line in my county to tell them they lost and I won, and before I knew it an ambulance was at my door
Don’t remember much of the rest of it.
I took a months supply of a double dose of Zopiclone (Sleep med) with a whole bottle of red, and I don’t drink much so my judgement was severely impaired
When I was in the hospital, my case manager came down and talked the duty doctor out of admitting me to the psych ward again
Sometimes I wish my heart had stopped beating that day when I am low
To me it was a romanticisation with death that was leading me to a poetic end of a miserable existence trying to keep up with the rat race
Many mental health people think I have these illnesses but I am just me
My father killed himself when I was 3 years old, and he was an alcoholic
I rarely have alcohol in my flat, and my original intention for the bottle of wine was not to overdose with my sleep meds, but rather have a healthy dose of red each evening and savour it
I took about one third of a bottle of painkillers once. Luckily it was 2/3rds empty. I passed out and felt the hand of a childhood friend touch my shoulder. I woke up and no one was there. He had passed away in a car crash in Mexico. Sometimes I feel he’s a guardian angel.
One time I took 4500 mg of Trazodone. It made my voice a little hoarse, and that’s all. I’d heard that four grams of Trazodone is enough to kill you. Apparently I am immune to any amount of Trazodone. I’m glad it didn’t work. I feel like I have things to live for now.
I attempted suicide twice because I believed I was going to be sucked out of my body and replaced with the antichrist and destroy the world. I don’t count these two times, I was trying to save the world. I tried three other times and failed. I’m glad I didn’t succeed. I have a wonderfully healthy body. My illness is treatable, though the treatment is not the greatest, and I feel like I’m in a hurricane sometimes, very insecure, terrified, in fact. Do I have proof of an afterlife that I can just hop into? I have proof there is an immaterial consciousness but don’t know if I’ll have it after I die. But if I got cancer would I get chemo? I’ve said no before but you never know I could become inspired. I need to get a colonoscopy, by the way. I have goals in my life that will take twenty or thirty years to accomplish.
The voices said to me if you can’t cope with us you can kill yourself. So I overdosed on a strong pack of sleeping pills.
I just hallucinated more vividly from it.
I felt I was in another dimension and the colours changed.
I actually was told to stop taking more sleep pills by the voice they said we will give you another chance. Whatever that meant. I was relieved. Temporarily
I wanted to kill myself because I felt like a bad person who should be punished and because I wanted to hurt all those people who had hurt me. But mostly I just wanted the pain to end. My belief was that it wouldn’t make the pain end.
When I was 16, my father called me a “bad son.” That enraged me, and I attempted suicide because of it. I had so many meds in my possession that I just started swallowing everything. The last thing I remember was swallowing pills. I got taken to the ER, given activated charcoal (and made a huge mess of the ER as I was told). I was put on a ventilator for 2 days. Woke up to the head nurse from the local hospital telling me I was going inpatient on my own or by court order. I went willingly. I’d known that nurse for 4 years from previous admissions. She was sad for me because I made a genuine effort and knew how awful my home life was.
I’ll share mine. It’s not that much that i did. It was less like, i wanted to kill myself more like being dead seemed like the only way to stop hearing things, and i wanted out badly.
But, this guy who i wanted to be with at the time was yelling at me about how he didn’t give a ■■■■ about me (and all the usual things he says) and I couldn’t handle hearing him say that and I wanted it to stop but i didnt know what to do. And it felt like since he didnt want to be with me, then i could never have a good life. I was feeling hopeless and desperate to just make my life stop.
Well, i went into my closet and got a belt and yada yada. But he started saying things that just made me want to die even more, then he said, ‘think about the honeymoon’ and i let go of the belt.
I mean, its about three years later and things are still exactly the same. Still yelling at the same things to me and no honeymoon.
Sometimes i think, i dont know why i let go. What is the reason I’m still alive? Becuase it doesnt seem like things are going to get better or happen they way they should.
I’ve had 3 true attempts. Usually I get myself too the hospital in time, though, so I haven’t acted on it in many years.
Usually I just OD, but because of the way my body processes meds I’ve always failed. I even read the information on "this is how much it takes to kill the average man’ and it still wasn’t enough. I just woke up a couple days later feeling like ■■■■.
I’ve had a couple of attempts. 1. I tried to sever an artery but I was discovered before it got too serious. 2. In hospital I tried asphyxiation with linen, but again was discovered before I lost consciousness. 3. Overdose on sedatives. But obviously didn’t take enough.
I wanted to kill myself so that my husband, whom I was separating with at the time, had to let me go. (But he never gave up on me and I’m back with him). Whilst staying at my sister’s one day i tried slitting my wrists with scissors but didn’t get far. Soon afterwards my sister took me to hospital
When I was 15 years old, there was a newspaper article about a girl I knew in school, who tried to kill herself with an overdose of aspirin. I had periods of feeling really oppressed by my mother and couldn’t take much more. One night I took probably almost a whole bottle of aspirin, but got sick, so called a volunteer group to take me to the hospital, because my mother didn’t drive. When my mom came to the hospital, she said I was covered with blotches or white spots. Can’t remember.But my mother was no where near as oppressive, as people I had to deal with, later in life.
I’ve tried to overdose many times. It’s my chosen method for suicide because I’ve got it in my head that you just pass out and never wake up, no pain and you’re just done, over, out of her. But I don’t know that it really works like that. And with all my experience swallowing way too many pills how much exactly does it take to kill you? I’ve taken ungodly amounts of numerous pills that rendered me unconscious for days and lowered my IQ but that didn’t kill me. It’s almost like what they say about it being your time to die is true.
I remember one time I took a brand new bottle of Latuda, the whole months supply, max dose. Went to bed. My husband at the time found the empty bottle in the Rite Aid bag and put 2 and 2 together and called 911. The hospital here flew me out to a hospital with a cardiac ICU and they managed to keep my heart going till it recovered from the overdose. That’s the closest I ever got. At the time I was so mad at myself for not throwing the empty bottle away, now I’m thankful I didn’t and very grateful to my husband and all the doctors and nurses for saving my life.
