Trigger Warning: anxiety, depression, and suicide. Please be advised.
March 25, 2019
Background Music: Nine Inch Nails’ “The Day the World Went Away” (1999)
That very morning, I tried my best to get up from my bed, take a cold bath, and change my clothes. Even having breakfast has been a challenge, but I did it anyway.
I’d listen to the words he’d say
but in his voice I heard decay.
After doing all of that, I locked the door, took a seat in my bed, and stared blankly on the floor. I had enough of pretending.
The plastic face forced to portray
All the insides left cold and gray
I looked at the table beside my bed, and there I found a solution to my mental pain: my antidepressants. I was supposed to take it after breakfast, but then I thought of taking more than one. And I did. I took 4.
There is a place that still remains.
It eats the fear, it eats the pain.
I don’t want blood dripping from me. I want to fade away to black.
The sweetest price he’ll have to pay…
The day the whole world went away.
This is it. I’m feeling the chills. This is the beginning of the end.
And then I heard a knocking on the door. It’s my parents. I went down to the floor and started crying. Should I say goodbye to them or start fighting for them? There are many racing thoughts in my head while shivering and shaking.
Then I heard the door open with a bang. My parents rushed to me, and my crying became louder. My mother quickly noticed the empty pack of my medicine and then she hugged me tightly. We rarely hug. “My son, please fight for me, for us,” Mother said. “Please don’t let go.”
“I’m sorry, mom and dad. I’m so sorry,” I said.
Then my mom swiftly prepared my bag and clothes, my dad carried me to our car, and then they rushed me to the hospital a family doctor recommended.
A few hours after checking in my hospital room and hooking up to an IV, I met my new therapist that I would like to call Dr. M., and the healing process started.
March 25, 2021
Looking back at what I did exactly 2 years ago, I feel ashamed and sorry about it. I should have remembered a great friend’s advice of “focusing on the glimpses of hope.” I should have been stronger for myself and my loved ones. I should have fought my depression better.
And also, I feel thankful to my family (including my good brothers), Dr. M., and the hospital staff for saving my life. If it were not for them, I would be dead by now and not telling this story. If it were not for them, I would not get a second shot at everything. Thank you, all of you.
And to my family and friends who have been checking up on me since 2 years ago and who are still checking up on me, I am very grateful. Thank you so much for the concern and love. I will not let you down.
I know I still have a few problems to deal with (that’s a story for another time). But with my loved ones and Dr. M. by my side and with my hobbies like listening to music and writing, I am going to fight better and stronger. I will look harder at the glimpses of hope. I will fight through the darkness. Ω