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Saturday, June 27, 2009

Screwed Up: Attempt

For those unfamiliar with my story, Screwed Up: My Life, please start at the beginning here. The purpose of me writing this intimate account of surviving a difficult childhood is explained here. This story in its entirety can be found at and is available for purchase for $12.95 plus shipping and handling.

A True Story
By Allie Van Wagoner

This online chapter is edited from the book version.

At one point the depression became all encompassing. That was the day I attempted suicide.

It was not the first time I had tried to kill myself. There were other times. There was the time I lived with my mother in her apartment with her boyfriend in Indianapolis. I wrote a lot of poems when I lived with her, including this one, which describes how I felt my mother didn't love me. There was also a very deep and black poem I wrote describing how I wanted to kill myself and leave this world. I was fourteen. Mother's Day of 1995, I had taken a belt and attempted to hang myself in my bedroom closet. I refused to leave my room and I would constantly bang my head against the post of my bed. I don't know why I would do it, except it felt good. Cutting felt better.

Making the decision to kill myself wasn't something I thought about on a whim. It took weeks and sometimes months before I would come to the determination to end my life. As I mentioned before, I was a pansy for pain, so I usually stuck with cutting myself. It was an easy outlet. All it required me to do was sneak a knife from the kitchen and hide it under my pillow or under my mattress. Then when life got too mentally and emotionally hard for me, I would shut my bedroom door, lift my shirt sleeve up, and begin marking myself with the knife. Usually, I wouldn't break skin but a couple times with each episode. Honestly, it is surreal to remember myself doing that.

This particular time that I attempted suicide had taken months to present itself. I often wondered if this family loved me. I constantly wrote about my insecurities in my journal. I often assumed I was hated by them. I didn't have a reason to think they hated me--I think it was because I hated myself. The week before I attempted to kill myself, I had written my best friend, Dee, a letter telling her what I wanted to do. She had told me not to do it. I don't think she ever thought I would attempt such a disturbing thing.

Then one afternoon, as I left for a walk alone, I grabbed a nearly full bottle of over the counter pain killers. A big bottle of ibuprofen. Little by little over the course of the walk I downed the entire bottle. As I walked, my vision became blurred and the world around me began to slow. I felt dizzy. I wanted to lay down and sleep. I wanted to die. I wanted to go home.

I don't remember how I got home after that walk. I still remember sitting in my room and not knowing how I got there. No one ever knew. No one ever asked. I never told anyone...until now.

The depression didn't end. The unexpected happened.

To be continued...


matthenderson said...

Wow this is really interesting. I've recently finished reading "Tuesdays with Morrie" and that was the first book I've finished in about a year, which is weird because I've been an avid reader most of my life. I think I am going to check out your book, from what I read in the blog entry, it sounds very interesting. Cool blog, too; love the name lol!

Billie <3 said...

WOW! You're such a good writer! And I just can't stop reading your story, wow. Thanks for rocking!!!! Looking forward to your next post! :D You totally have my attention!

Bill said...

Great writing. Familiar story. Thank God troubles are always temporary.

Because ranting is theraputic said...

I dunno if it would sound a little weird to say that I "liked" what I've read up until this point, but I felt drawn to it; it's very engrossing. As someone who spends most of his time complaining (albeit most often in jest), I always feel a tinge of guilt when I read accounts of peoples' lives that make my own, for all its flaws, seem cushy in comparison.

I'd definitely like to read this book, although I'd probably rent it from a library if I could (if I were to buy every book I wanted to read, I'd have to get about 6 jobs just to cover the "fantasy" section).

You're a very inspiring person c:

Michelle Johnson said...

I can't believe you left me hanging like that. I was so totally engrossed in the reading and it abruptly ended. I will definitely be back for the next installment. I'm sorry you had such a hard time growing up but, I believe you came out of it well with your husband and those fine boys. Glad you're around to keep the rest of us on our toes. Have a great night.

Isle Dance said...

You help me understand...thanks so much for sharing...and know how very much you make a difference in this world. For the better.

Everyday Girl said...

Wow... you write so well... sad that you had such a difficult childhood, and no one seemed to notice. I am glad you turned out so good, and your family is so lucky to have you for a mom. You have inspired me! I recently started reading through your blog and now I just can't stop. Keep writing, if only for us who can't stop reading...

Everyday Girl said...
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