At around 13 years of age, I wanted to die! I hated myself and all that was around me. The only way out was to die. I truly wanted to die. The day I decided to do this was when I knew no one would be home, Mom and her man were out of town, and my brother was gone for the day and night.

Alone in the house, screaming inside with shame, worthlessness and dread. I sat at the kitchen table drank a 26 oz. bottle of whiskey straight up, and a full bottle of prescription pain pills.

As the whiskey burned my throat, I was feeling instant relief of all this insane ugly darkness inside of me.

I then went and laid down in my bed, crying out for endless sleep. Most of the incidents that happened after I passed out are a blur. Like I was there, but not. My plan was good! So I thought.

My brother came home, not sure on the time, but I recall him dragging me from my room into the bathroom. Yelling at me, to throw up. Then I was back in my room, lying lifeless wanting not to wake up. But I did.

Mom and her man must have been called, because when my bedroom door opened up again, there was mom’s boyfriend screaming at me and this is so clear this memory of him yelling at me “you bite off more than you can chew this time”. I laughed inside, all I could think of was, hey that’s a Suzie Quarto song. God I love that song! Then I must have passed out again.

No one else came in, not my mom. I think I was a few days in my bed floating in and out. After that I was a walking dead person, looking back now I wonder why I was not taking to the hospital.

When it happened I didn’t think of that, because I knew I Did Not Matter. All I was is pure ugliness, inside and out.

you are not alone