I tried to commit suicide by jumping out of my dayroom window.
I was about five floors up. I survived, but I didn’t want to. I was at the end of a long rope and the depression was just turning the rope into a noose.
I thought I’d share the story of that fateful day. It’s an interesting story, hope you like it.
Lana sat on the window ledge…
Her infant son crying in his crib, she walked over to him to console him again. Still exhausted from hours of him crying most of the night. Lana placed him back into his crib then walked back to the window. Looking down onto the grass below, she began to wonder if jumping would actually kill her or just injure. They just lived on the fifth floor.
She ran a hand over her swollen belly, feeling her daughter kick her gently. Tears began to stream down her face as she pictured the plummet to the ground. It would kill her daughter for sure. She didn’t want that. But the thoughts continued to creep inside her mind. The thoughts of death teased her like a pedophile is teased by innocence.
To distract her mind she went into the kitchen to find something to eat. Lana hadn’t been to the grocery store in a while, so there wasn’t much to appease her and her daughter’s appetite. Rubbing her belly, she grabbed a bag of chips from the cabinet. As soon as she sat down, her son began to cry again, much louder than before. Almost like he was crying loudly on purpose to push Lana over that ledge.
Maybe he would be happier if I was dead.
Again with those thoughts. She went to run herself a bath. As the water began to fill up the tub she went to, once again, comfort her hurting son. He was in constant pain. It’s why he cried so much. Lana saw none of this logic, she was convinced he cried solely to destroy her. His crying was a reminder of his pain. His pain is a reminder of her pain.
Shaking those thoughts out of her head, Lana made sure her son was secure, then got into the tub. The warm water made her daughter kick a bit inside her. She rubbed the tiny foot or limb and started to cry. Lana’s mind began to fill again with poisoned thoughts of death. She hurried and finished bathing.
I can’t live like this. I don’t even want to be alive why am I trying to stay alive? No one wants me. No one loves me. No one cares.
Lana found herself at the window again, staring at the ground below. She sat down on the ledge and opened the window. As she looked to her son’s crib, she noted the time. He will be home soon. Lana tried to justify her diseased ideas but they began to fog her emotions and judgement. Her mind completely clouded with numbing thoughts, she leaned off the ledge and fell.
Lana woke up at the hospital. Doctors were scrambling and fussing around her and there was blood everywhere. She didn’t feel any pain but slight pressure in her belly. Why am I still alive? Did I actually jump? Am I in hell? Lana wasn’t in hell but her baby was in distress and the doctors were working to stabilize the baby without inducing labor. The blood was from her head, nose and mouth. One of her teeth was missing, her tongue was split and she was confused.
Then a psychiatrist came to speak to her, “Lana, did you jump or fall out of the window? A neighbor said he saw you fall from the window and your chart says you have a history of suicidal attempts.” Lana turned her head away from the doctor. She looked down at her belly, ashamed of what she had almost done.
“Yes. I tried to jump but I was too….heavy..” Lana began to cry which quickly turned to sobbing. The doctor spoke to her some more, then, she was admitted. The crying wouldn’t stop and all she could feel was stupid for almost killing her own innocent child, while leaving her sick toddler home alone. I’m a horrible mother. After my daughter is born I will end this charade of a life. People like me can’t raise children! Look at me! I’m pathetic!
The incessant belittling continued inside her mind. Lana couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it, and she felt helpless. Trapped, by her own mind. Isolated from love by her own feelings. The hatred for herself churned inside her like butter. The disgust at herself was almost painful. Lana was her own, personal internet troll. Insisting that she was garbage and needed to kill herself.
As the days turned to nights and the medication began to clear her mind, a bit, she slipped into a phase of regret. Rubbing her pregnant belly, she looked down at her daughter and made a promise. I will never put you in danger again. No matter how bad I feel, I will never again put you in harm’s way. I promise.
I kept that promise to a certain extent but that is a story for another day. I hope you enjoyed it and also learned a bit.
Depression is like a kidnapper. It snatches you away from your family, locks you in a room, tortures you, and hurts you, but when you finally escape…the damage is already done. It’s hard to understand from an outside perspective but I hope this story gives just a little insight.
This is Moonlyte signing off:
Make it a great day.