I was overwhelmed by the amount of warm responses I got in the short time I’ve been on this website. Thank you for taking notice of me, my blog post, my page, whatever. I guess, it’s true, as someone remarked, I need — desire, crave — human contact and understanding. As any other person, I guess.

But I need to set limits. I know myself well enough; I’m easily excited and overindulged. I cannot spend a lot of time here dwelling on my condition… and conditions of others. It sounds horribly insensitive, but it has to be this way for me.

I have a plan — to get a hold of myself and move on. To achieve that, I will review my past and keep track of my present.

Brief history of my condition, without judgment or conclusions

The first time I attempted suicide was at the age of 12. Miscalculated dosage of aspirin. It went unnoticed. I decided to kill myself only when I was sure it would be fatal.
From age 14 to 16 I used to cut. Then I made a decision to stop because it was embracing. My mother noticed but did nothing.
At the same time as I made a pact with myself to be a good person till the age of 18 (legal adulthood) and then kill myself. Then I changed it to 21 because it was the age at which you can buy a gun in California.
I continued to have bouts of depression but never sought any kind of help. It was unknown to my friends too.


Freshman year in college (March ’08) I was really losing it, so I signed up for a depression study, to receive free experimental drug treatment. I got better after about a month, stopped taking medication (surprisingly without any side effects), and withdrew from the study.

July ’08 I met a person and quickly we started going out. It was a bad match from the start — he was 25 with history of drug and alcohol abuse. He lived in a trailer and — the worst part — he had 9 guns. I didn’t care, I was in love. (I don’t want to refer to him as my boyfriend anymore so I’ll call him KF)

Late October I started having obsessive thoughts about his gun. It didn’t help that it was always in his truck and loaded. I called suicide hotline Oct 20-ish? and the lady suggested going to school counselor. I went to see counselor on Nov 4, who made me call KF and ask him to hide the gun from me. It was the first time I told someone close about my depression and suicidality.
Nov 10 I was under stress from midterm exams and work, and feeling ashamed about disclosing about my problems to him, even though he was very kind and understanding.

Nov 12 After being an hour late to my midterm, I lost it. I made a thorough plan and prepared everything (Vicodin, Darvocet, Flexeril, carotid artery and the Pacific Ocean). I posted goodbye note on my blog.

Nov 13 2pm. My very close friend, SR, saw my note and hunted me down at school. I mentioned to her about my troubles. She made me go to the same counselor, who in turn walked me ER. 5pm: After sitting in ER triage for 3 hours, I walked out (ran away) because I had a midterm for a very important class at 7pm after which was part of the plan. I took the test and when I walked out, the police was outside to handcuff me and take me to the hospital with all my illegally possessed drugs.

Nov 13-17 My first hospitalization. My mother, who was in shock and KF came to visit me every day. Even my professor, whom I work for, came and was very sympathetic (she planned for me to go to conference in DC the weekend after).

It was the scariest experience of my life. I will try to describe it in detail later.

Nov 17-Dec 12 I went back to school. I also had to go to therapy and be on medication (Zoloft 25mg & Neurontin 10mg prn). I finished the quarter with 2 As and one B (in that class after which midterms I was taken by cops). Fri, after my last final exam, I went to see the therapist and told her I was anxious about winter break and felt something bad might happen.

Dec 13 (Sat) I went to KF’s place. His landlords were out so he bought tequila for me to celebrate the end of the quarter. We got very drunk. While he was out somewhere, I went to his car to look for the gun he kept there. He hid it. I went to his trailer and saw the shotgun in the corner. I sat on the bed and put it in my mouth. I never pulled the trigger; KF walked in on me. I don’t remember much more, other than being on bathroom floor crying hysterically.
The next day he didn’t say anything and we acted as if nothing happened.

Dec 15 (Mon) He dropped me off at home in the evening. No one said anything about the Sat. We kissed and parted. It was midnight when I started receiving txt msgs from him. When he got back home, he got drunk and started accusing me of being selfish and not loving him "how could I try to kill myself in his home, leaving him to clean up the mess. What would his landlord think?" Yes, he said that. (Sorry it still hurts remembering this) I got very upset and I knew if I was left alone I would do something. at 2am I called my friends who knew about my 1st hospitalization, and asked them to babysit me.

Dec 16-18 I stayed at my friends’ place. On the 18th we went to see a movie in Hollywood, and as we were driving I started receiving txts from him again. It extremely upset me and I asked him to stop. My friends let me drink to calm me down. I started taking the tranq pills with vodka, getting very drunk very fast. My friends freaked out and called 911.

Dec 18-22 My second hospitalization. He never called nor visited. My mom was there for me all the time though.

They changed my medication to Cipralex (10mg?) and gave me the paper stating I can’t buy firearms until 5 years from now.

Dec 23-30 My family went on a trip to central coast of California. I kept communication with him to a minimum.

Dec 31 We went to our relatives’ place in San Francisco. During the day I got an txt from him. He was having acid flashback and was freaking out. I talked him through it. In the evening he kept txting me, asking if I was going to dump him (He was always insecure about it). I spend the New Years crying.


I thought profoundly about our relationship the next week and realized it would be better for both of us to separate. We were both miserable wrecks and both of us needed care. He could not provide it for me, and I at that time could not provide it for him.

Jan 10 I asked him to come visit me and bring me my things. He couldn’t because he had no money. I broke up with him over the phone.

Jan 13 (Tue) I stayed at home. I took the cable wire and made the knot. I planned to jump from 2nd floor balcony with noose around my neck.  I spend the previous night reading about official tables of drops because I was afraid I would decapitate myself and that would be messy. I’m shallow I know. At 1:20pm I send txt msgs to my mom and a couple close friends. 1:30pm I was sitting on the railing with a bag on my head and a rope around my neck, and the neighbor walked by. I was ready to jump. Then my mother came.

I told her I had to do it. It was a choice of life and death. I was not scared and lot like the first time and I was sober, not like the second time. I chose. I chose life and love for her. Or maybe I just moved the date till my 25th birthday.

I lost the shrink and stopped my medication cold. The next month was brutal.

Jan 30 I saw my friend SR, the one who made me go to the counselor that first time. We haven’t talked since end of quarter and she didn’t know anything about me since Dec12. She told me I was unhealthy for her and she couldn’t deal with me.

Feb 13 A month from my last attempt, 2 months from my second, 3 from my 3rd. I like dates and round numbers. I got drunk and stoned at a friend’s party. But I am alive.

Writing this entry was very hard. Maybe later I will go into more detail later about certain things. Right now I just feel nauseous and drained.

I reread the whole thing and I truly think I’m a bad person and everything is my fault. In fact, I deserve what I get. That’s just a fact, not a opinion. Please, I don’t want your judgement nor your pity. I feel very anxious and guilty now. Maybe this was a mistake. Another huge mistake.


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