Dear GOD,
This was just one of those crazy, very human thoughts, okay? Besides, as you can see, i have changed. ;p
xoxo
Suicide Pronunciation ‘soo-uh-sahyd’
1. The act or an instance of intentionally killing oneself.
2. The destruction or ruin of one’s own interests.
3. One who commits suicide.
Have you ever thought about actually commiting suicide? And for what reasons?
I have. Twice, I think, during my teenage years… gad, I speak as if that was a lifetime ago… anyway, while most think about ending it because of severe, intolerable depression, I wanted to end it all then simply because I was bored. Bored with life. Bored with the world. i think that is worse than depression… to find that there seems to be nothing left in this lifetime to satiate you, or even at the evry least, be the reason for you to smile.
I had this detailed music video flashing before me each time I close my eyes. My death scene. No, I wouldn’t want my “fading away” to reach the headlines. Nobody wants a well-publicized death. With cameramen trying to get a good view of your colorless, lifeless self? Ugh.
I thought about downing sedatives, those they use on Mental ward patients. 10 milligrams and you’re guaranteed of a cardiac arrest. I thought ten cardiac arrests will be enough to kill me. I thought about wearing my favorite vintage shirt, the one with a silver intricately drawn Phoenix printed on the front. Paired with my favorite pair of faded well worn Levi’s which I dug from the bottom drawers of my mom’s closet, and sneakers. I’d put my hair in pigtails, put on some face poweder and Kiwi flavored lip gloss.
It’s going to be a cold night and it’s slightly drizzly. With the curtains being blown by the wind. I’d have two tall glasses of cold water on my bedside table, and my main suicide paraphernalia: Diazepan.
I thought I’d do it at about 9 pm… I’d put on Sting’s “Fields of Gold”, then I’d stand up, hold a glass of water in one hand, the tablets in the other. And I’d take two tablets at a time, then finish the entire glass. Then lie in bed. And close my eyes. LOL
That was ages ago. I laugh each time I think about that. I didn’t even know how I’m going to score Diazepan. Blame my reading too much Sylvia Plath or Charlotte Bronte… and those junkie memoirs I used to be fond of when I was 15. and grunge music… they sort of made suicide alluring. I always saw beauty in the concept of death but I never thought I’d actually consider suicide at such a young age. And all because I was bored!
I even chose suicide as topic for the very first paper I wrote back in freshman college. And got to interview people who obviously, had unsuccessful suicide attempts. One slashed her wrists, one took 150 Enervon tablets.
It’s funny how I have turned from the bored suicidal teen to the bitchy optimistic young woman that I am now. 🙂
Before "It's All Been Said and Done." 