I am going to tell everyone my story, and try my very best to make all the people who want to die see that there is more out there, because I know first hand what that feeling is like, that it will never get better, I was there. I was engaged, living the happiest days of my life, but just as suddenly as the love of my life entered it, I began to have panic attacks that took over my entire life to the point where I could not leave the house at all with out my ex driving me. I was hitting the wine bottle pretty hard to cope with this, and in his mind he didn't think that me depending on him was helping me. Honestly, it wasn't I wasn't going to get better with him doing every errand for me, so he left me. I took it hard, but I tried to make the decision to follow the doctors orders and leave the house several times a day, but the attacks just got worse, it would take me 4 hours to leave the house, because every step brought one on. I lived in that agony for about two weeks, then I made the last trip out of the house to buy the best bottle of wine I used to love to drink socially, came home, hugged my cats, and swallowed every anti anxiety pill, sleeping pill, and epilepsy pill I had with that bottle of wine. In between gulps, I would slice my wrists. I had sent my ex a text message on a time delay so he would get it 2 hours later. My only concern was my cats not getting taken care of. I did not want to live, and I barely did. The paramedics got to the house just moments before I stopped breathing, and my heart stopped twice in the Er. I was in a coma for a week. When I woke up, the room was filled with all these teary eyed people, that I thought hated me because of what I had become, but they were all there, and sooo happy that I made it. They all told me that they never left me alone because the doctors said it was a matter of time. But, I made it through it, someone up above, whether it was a higher power, or my dear grandmother helped to start breathing again because they had a plan for me, and it wasn't my time to go. I have found value in my life again, I am stronger than I have ever been. I owe so many thanks to so many people, my parents most of all, for taking me in, and getting me the help I needed and listening to my feelings even when I HATED living here at first, they just listened, and didn't judge. I owe all those people who watched me every day coming closer to death. I owe my wonderful therapist who has taught me that there is always a way to find happiness even in the fog of depression, and I owe the wonderful people I found when I moved here, the people at DS. When I wanted to die, I thought I would be saving the ones that I loved from worrying about me, but the truth is, I wasn't reaching out for them and telling them I needed the help. I kept it all to myself, and isolated myself and made myself believe all of my friends and family had given up on me...they didn't, they just didn't know what was going on in my head. So, maybe this is what the higher power or Grandma wanted me to do, help people find their way back to happiness. I have started a support group at my therapists office for girls who feel the kind of pains that I have. I am so greatful to be alive now. I just hope one person who is thinking that there is no other way reads this, and takes the time to reconsider because there are people that love them, that would give their own lives to make them feel better. That's what my dad said to God when he was at my bed side in the hospital. He told me that a few weeks later after I woke up, and every time I think of it, it brings tears to my eyes. How would their lives be if I would have died? They would live their lives blaming themselves for what they should have seen, or done. So, please if you think your days are done, take the time to pick up the phone and call someone that you think has abandoned you or given up on you, because they really haven't, and if you can't call them, call a support line. You were brought into this world for a reason, and you need to fulfill that destiny. I hope this helped someone.
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