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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 Blurb.com 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...

8 Comments:

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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