I almost tried to kill myself my junior year of high school.
I’ve never told anyone that because honestly how do you even go about admitting that kind of thing? I remember I was in the shower (sitting for some reason) dissociating like a mother fucker and I just didn’t feel like a real, tangible person. My brain was racing and I couldn’t pinpoint any solid ideas except that I should die. I don’t remember grabbing it, but I looked over at my hand and I was holding a shaving razor, just ready man.
The only thing that stopped me was the thought of it not working. I self harmed a lot and knew how deep it would go and knew it wouldn’t kill me. My mind cleared just a bit and I remember thinking “go to bed, come up with a better plan in the morning” and in my dissociative, zombie state I just went to my room and slept. I woke up crying because I realized I really didn’t want to die, but I scared myself because I felt helpless.
This is just a long winded way of saying I think I’m going back to that bad place. Life seems less and less worth living and I’m already going to therapy, but I don’t want to mention my past suicidal nature because I don’t want to be hospitalized. I’m not actively suicidal, but I’m afraid I might end up in that dark place again (so much so that I don’t keep any pills or guns in my home that way if I get bad it’ll be harder to kill myself).
Idk. Just wanted to get that off my chest I guess.