Wed Apr 20, 2016 12:20 pm
I'm still here.
If, its ok with everybody here, I would like to keep this thread, and my current situation public. If, it can help just one person, (myself included) then this world will have won, one little battle in the war against depression.
Let me say here quick, and, please, I hope not to offend anyone with this opinion of mine. I am not a religious person. I personally find it easier to believe in the existence of alien life (including single cell organisms), than the existence of a God. Not "our" Christian or Catholic God, but any God in general.
I believe it does not take a person kneeling in a building with four walls and a cross, or a person kneeling and praying to a wall, or a person looking to a specific direction at certain points in the day while kneeling and bowing on a carpet... I don't believe any of these things make a person a good person. I also don't believe that if you don't do these things, it makes you a bad person.
Right over wrong. Respect over hate. Love those that matter. It all looks so simple and easy when its broken down like that. But, in my opinion, that's pretty much the basics for a good person.
Monday...
Everything was wrong. up was down, down was up... I drove around for an hour or two, till Dick's opened at 10A. I bought a 12 gauge shot gun. I did this with a clear mind. I knew what I wanted to do this day. And I did all the things that most people do before they commit suicide. Paid the bills as far ahead as I could. Called a few people. Sold some things so I could leave my loved one as much money as possible...
I drove to the local Walmart and bought the shells I needed for the gun I bought. And I drove. For hours I drove with the shotgun on the back seat, and the shells on the passenger floor. I wanted the pain to end. I was so certain of what I wanted. I just drove. Alone. Scared. Not wanting to hurt those that cared for me. Especially not wanting to hurt the one that I love most. Who, is also the reason for me wanting to kill myself in the first place. Screaming in my head. Yes. No. Yes. No... I was suppose to work at 430. I didn't see the need to call off, didn't plan on needing a job anyhoo. Throughout this entire ordeal, I spoke to her a couple of times. Begging. Pleading. Crying for help. For her to tell me to come home. To hold me and say I'll help you get through this. We'll get through this together. That never happened.
I spoke to Ernie for about 45 minutes. Sharing stories. Some serious, some not-so-much. He was a great help. Long story short, basically it was screw her. You don't need that, or her. Spoke with her again, and she got me to come home. She held me. I cried. Tears of sorrow. Of fear. Of joy. For that ever-so-brief a moment, I felt like I existed. Sleep came easy.
Tuesday...
We had a normal morning. As normal as our mornings can be anyway. Then, not even sure how or why it started, but it started. Her yelling. Me trying to talk her down. Her saying the most hurtful things she can think to say at the moment. Me saying honey stop, I love you. Her escalating to even nastier things. That's it. I want to die. No more. My point was reached. I say good bye. I love you. She says F*ck you. If you don't kill yourself today, Ill do it for you.
I drove to the nearest shooting range. Waited. I waited till everyone left. Grabbed my shot gun, loaded it with one shell, and test fired it. It worked. I walked back to my car. Grabbed another shell, loaded my gun and sat on the ground with it in my lap. I sat for a few minutes, checking my phone. hoping wanting praying she would call me. She didn't. I called her. She didn't know where I was, and we talked. Decided that she was gonna go with me to the hospital Wed morn so WE could get me help. FINALLY. I called an ex employee of mine that I knew was an avid hunter. Gave him my once fired shot gun. Made him promise to not give it back to me unless she told him it was OK. He called her, and told her bout him having my gun, and blah blah blah. She was relieved, sort of.
This morning...
The normal morning again. Coffee. Smokes. Small talk. Getting ready to go to the ER for the evaluation and medication that I need. I tell her go ahead and drive. I'm gonna walk. Its 5 blocks. Gonna smoke myself a headache till I get there since its gonna be hours till I smoke again. She stops me. Tells me she called them yesterday. That if I walk in there, they are going to keep me against my will, no matter the outcome of the evaluation.
I shrug. If that what it takes to show you how much I want us to work, and that I'm willing to do, and suffer anything for the benefit of us. I keep walking, she grabs my arm, says I don't want that to happen to you. You do need medication she says... I shrug, say sure, if that's what you think.
So, here I sit. On hold with my family Doc, to see if she can see me and is willing to prescribe me something. Totally not understanding what the F*ck just happened.
The support I got from everyone was (is) amazing. I cried see all the replies, and well wishes and what-not. Your support is so appreciated Thank you all.
This community truly is amazing.
