Why I Chose Life
Long After Surviving a Suicide Attempt
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I was 18 years old and had sent in applications to three private colleges and a safety school. But I didn’t see myself there. I didn’t see myself anywhere. I wanted to vanish.
Sometimes I sat in my prestigious school with all my genius classmates and just tried to make myself disappear, molecule by molecule. I usually only succeeded with my hair; chopping it off various times to make myself feel smaller or less visible.
I went from passively suicidal to actively suicidal in a matter of minutes.
I never told anyone how much I thought about suicide. I grew up going to Catholic Church, and I believed it was one of those big unforgivable sins that blackened your soul for eternity. For years I told my therapists that even though I was depressed, they didn’t need to worry about suicide. As much as I thought about it, I didn’t believe I would ever actually do it.
Then, my belief changed.
One morning I heard my alarm ringing. I buried my head under the pillow, like that would make the morning go away. My roommate threw a book at my legs to get my attention. I felt bad that my alarm was also disturbing her rest, so I sat up, turned it off, and vowed to myself this wouldn’t go on much longer. I went from passively suicidal to actively suicidal in a matter of minutes.
I suddenly believed I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t have the energy to get up and do everything that I was supposed to do each day. I have narcolepsy, and I felt like what I was doing every day wasn’t living.
Narcolepsy is a neurological disorder that disrupts the sleep-wake cycle. So while it was difficult for me to sleep through the night, it felt impossible to stay awake during the day. I lived in a constant battle with sleep.
I dutifully swallowed the stimulants the doctor prescribed, and then I waded through the fog with a buzzed feeling, my head overcharged…
