For over a week straight I took over 20 ibuprofen every single day up to 3 times a day. I read online it could damage the liver and all the other organs in the body and I knew for me that it was my easiest way out. I continued to take them until one day while I was attending school, I had trouble staying awake in class and my stomach started to feel like someone had scraped a knife down my insides. It was unbearable. I decided to go to the nurse to see if I could just go home for "period cramps" but while waiting in the long line of people for the nurse I had fainted. I fell back and hit a girl behind me along with hitting my head on the tile floor. I took a nap in the nurses office until I felt like I could go back to class. I went back to class, but at that point it was time for lunch. I went to the lunchroom, sat down, and tried to eat my lunch...I couldn't. I started falling asleep again at the lunch table and one of our deans had noticed and immediately called the nurse to get me a wheel chair to get me out of the lunch room. I was wheeled out and later, taken home. I went home that day to try and fall asleep but before I could the police were knocking at my door and an ambulance sat outside my house. They asked me what I had been taking and I denied anything. Then they asked to see my wrists and thats when I knew that this is what gave away my plan. I slid up my sleeves and on each wrist I had about 4-5 cuts that were infected and tender. I remember the night before that sitting in the bathtub wondering why the hell I would take a razor blade to my skin but I did it anyway. Each cut hurt so badly but I deserved it and so I carried on. It was something I had only saw in movies or heard about from other people but I would never do something so horrific. I did it anyway. I was taken to the hospital for 2 days and luckily the only damage done was that my stomach lining had been completely deteriorated and anything I would be eating the next couple weeks, months, or potentially a lifetime would be uncomfortable to digest. It was painful. I mean really painful. I later found out that I would be going to a psychiatric center until they felt I was able to be released. I spent 3 days there and made one friend. He didn't know me but we got to know each other. The moment I realized that I am not the only person in the world who feels empty and hopeless was the moment I realized that life could get a lot better. I still struggle with depression every single day of my life but I make the most of what I have to work with. It is my goal to become stronger from this disease and help many others too.
