Pills,

Published on January 2017 | Categories: Documents | Downloads: 52 | Comments: 0 | Views: 566
of 3
Download PDF   Embed   Report

Comments

Content

PILLS
Anna was fourteen when she was diagnosed with clinical depression. She had been in a constant state of sadness for as long as she could remember, so it came as no surprise when she started feeling suicidal. She was in the beginning of her freshman year, and her life had already taken a downward turn only a few months ago. It got even worse as she found herself resorting to self harm techniques. She wasn’t sure what the trigger to her attempted suicide was, but it must have had something to do with the enormous weight on her shoulders. Here is her story. Anna always seemed to get on at least one person’s nerves, no matter what she did. She wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t horrible either. So why was someone always angry at her? Was it her clothes? Her hair? She didn’t know. She didn’t know why people said that she was a poser, and she didn’t know why people said that she was a fake. She definitely didn’t try to be fake, or anything of the sort. The trash talk started to get to her when she was in her last year of Middle School. She would sit in her room for hours, playing her radio as loud as she could so that her parents couldn’t hear the sobbing. She would take apart her shaving razors and slice her skin open with the blades, just to make sure she was still alive. She felt dead inside, alone, and unwanted. It was worse than it had ever been before. She knew that she needed help. It had gotten to the point where she felt random urges to do things a certain number of times, yet she found it impossible to ignore them. Stress had taken a toll on her. She soon displayed characteristics of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, yet she only started to pay attention to them when they got to a certain point. Anna found herself unable to take a shower without washing her hair three times, or almost anything else for that matter. She started setting her alarm clock so that the numbers added up to something ‘lucky,’ and if she didn’t she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It started to take over her life. She would perform rituals in secret so that no one would notice, forced to take a certain number of steps in her home. She had to wash her hands three times in public places, afraid that once wasn’t enough. And two? That was a horrible number, being extremely unlucky. She never understood why she had to do these things. She never understood what was wrong with her. Most of all, she never understood why this was happening. Why her? Anna had always tried her hardest to respect the golden rule, and treat everyone the way she would want to be treated. She was extremely nice to those she hated, and even nicer to those she didn’t. She never stole and hardly lied, confessing shortly afterwards when she did. Because of this, she didn’t understand why people were so cruel to her. Was it because of her looks? Was it because of the way she talked? Either way, it still happened. She was bullied every day at school, and even more when she was on the computer. This lead to the advancement in her anxiety disorder, and (before she knew it) her friends were noticing it. The few friends that she had were fading, for they were slightly annoyed by these weird quirks. It was embarrassing being around their “friend,”

so they put a stop to it. A result of her stress because a cause, digging her into a deeper hole than she already was in. Anna was trapped. It was in the month of October when she first starting having more intense thoughts than before. She was used to self harm by then, always wearing a jacket to cover up the scars. This was nothing new. On the other hand, there was something new. She found it harder and harder to sleep, symptoms of insomnia starting to show. She was intensely tired every night, her efforts of sleep more and more futile every night. Her anxiety was worsening along with her insomnia, the panic attacks soon following. She found herself curled up in a ball under the covers, sobbing and hyperventilating for short periods of time. They started to happen frequently, happening at least one time a week. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to do something, and she had to act. Anna wasn’t quite sure where the idea running away came from. Her mom and dad had always supported her, even when they grounded her and gave her lectures. She was sure they loved her. She was sure they cared about her. But then… why couldn’t she stand living in that house? Yeah, her parents were always fighting. Even still, they wouldn’t get a divorce. She knew that they had problems, but so did everyone else. Especially her. The only difference between her and everyone else was that she hadn’t bothered to get help. Anna was too afraid to ask her mom about counseling, so she kept everything inside. No one knew about the cutting. No one knew about her depression. No one knew about the insomnia. She was too afraid to tell, and so she decided to run away. And before she could even think twice about it, she had packed her backs and headed out. She was originally planning on running away that night, so that her parents wouldn’t notice until she was far away. Her plans were ruined when she realized her dad would be up until around midnight, because he was working on taxes. Anna ended up sneaked out of school, instead. She had written a note and left it on her bed the night before, taking two bags to school after she had planned it all. But she didn’t go very far. Her first mistake was trying to go out the side door. Her high school happened to be right next to a Fire Station, so when she started walking across the street an officer stopped her. He had asked where she was going, and why she didn’t have a pass. After making up some lame excuse, she went back inside to “get a pass.” Instead, she ran out the other door and made her way out. It wasn’t long until she got caught, though, the guidance counselor sending Anna home to her mom. It took a lot of explaining and tears, but soon enough they had everything straightened out. She was told that she would need to see a therapist as soon as possible, and she would not be able to return to school until she had done so. Anna felt more trapped than ever before. She found herself in an even worse position than ever before. She didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to go to school. She didn’t want to go to therapy. Her mom didn’t know what to do anymore, and neither did her dad. This had never happened before, and everyone in the family felt completely hopeless. What could they do? Her parents hadn’t even noticed anything was wrong with her; she had kept it from them so long. They didn’t even realize that she had problems until she had made her attempted exodus.

Even after a few weeks, therapy hadn’t made Anna feel any better than before. If anything, she felt a bit worse. Her therapist seemed a little strange to her, and she always managed to make her feel extremely uncomfortable. Because of this, she felt herself unable to tell or reveal anything truthful about what was going on. She didn’t let her therapist know that she had been hurting herself, and the woman didn’t ask. She was an older woman by the name of Dr. Trice, and Anna felt awkward just saying her name. She knew from the beginning that this wasn’t going to help her, forcing her to give up before she even began. She couldn’t run away, and the cutting wasn’t even helping anymore. It was more of an addiction at that point in her life, something that made her feel okay for only a few moments. And then? She was just let down. She had to try something different. She had to do something else, and she finally realized the only thing that would get her out of the horrible mess she was in. She had to kill herself. Her hands shook as she came to this horrible truth, heart racing. Anna was trying to sleep when she thought about it, her mind going back to that same thought over and over again: suicide. She felt empty inside, cold and hopeless. It was as if she didn’t have a choice in the matter, even though she did. She didn’t think she had any choice. She didn’t think anyone cared. And most of all, she didn’t think that she was worth anything. Anna tried to distract herself from the overwhelming thoughts, forcing herself to turn on the television. She couldn’t help but feel as lonely as ever, her stomach churning. She felt sick. Not being able to take it anymore, her hands scrambled to find paper and a pen. She started sobbing as she wrote down a few short sentences, folding up the paper as soon as she was done. It read, “To make everything better, I have to die. I can’t make it right by living. I’m so scared, and I want out. I’m sorry.” Anna could see her life flashing before her eyes. She opened the medicine cabinet in her parent’s bathroom; they weren’t home so they couldn’t stop her. She took a bottle of sleeping pills and quickly took off the top, pouring a glass of water from the tap. Before she could think about what she was doing, she downed as many pills as she could. She lost count, swallowing pill after pill. Her stomach was killing her, a pain in the back of her head suddenly emerging. Not being able to take any more pills, she sat down on the bathroom floor. Clutching the folded up paper in her right hand, her eyes gently sliding closed, she passed out. Anna never woke up.

By Kristin H.

Sponsor Documents

Or use your account on DocShare.tips

Hide

Forgot your password?

Or register your new account on DocShare.tips

Hide

Lost your password? Please enter your email address. You will receive a link to create a new password.

Back to log-in

Close