Something I need to talk about:

today is the one year anniversary of the day I planned to kill myself.

suicide had always been a lingering thought in my mind. I was hurting beyond what words could explain, and I was scared. I wanted everything that was hurting me to go away and stop; so, I decided that July 18th, 2016 would be the day I'd take my own life through an overdose on whatever drug cocktail I could afford to make with my paycheck.

the days leading up to July 18th were some of the most painful and horrifying I'd ever been through. I spent so much of my time researching what would happen if I died, perfecting my suicide note, and praying that the Lord would keep me safe when it was all over. I asked my best friend at the time to spend my last days with me. On July 5th, my best friend, who comforted me through my emotional trauma that was a result of being a victim of sexual assault and rape on multiple occasions, became a contributor to the emotional trauma I was already experiencing. He knew I was vulnerable, and took advantage of that. I had recently gotten out of an abusive relationship with someone who absolutely tore apart my heart and soul. I painted myself to be useless, undesired, and unwanted. I blamed myself for all the pain I had experienced throughout the few years I had been alive. I sat for hours trying to think of reasons why my life was worth living, but all I found was a dead end, and a thousand more reasons about why I would be better off gone classy prom dresses 2019

The day of July 18th 2016, I went to work and then to multiple drugstores in town to not raise any suspicion as to why I purchased so many pills. Upon arriving at home, I took a shower, blow dried my hair, and styled it. I dressed myself in my favourite clothes and did my make up. I added finishing touches on my suicide notes, and reminded my friends and family that I loved them. I recorded a video on my phone where I talked about who I was, what I did, what I loved and who I loved. At around 11:30 at night when I knew my family was sound asleep, I began taking lids off of the pill bottles and pouring them into a large ziploc bag, the sound of the rattling pills was heart-wrenching. I said one last prayer, and then I broke down crying. I didn't want to die, I just wanted to stop hurting, I wanted to know why i was only ever wanted for sex, I wanted to know why i was just a child but still forced to experience the trauma that I did. It didn't make sense, I felt so unloved but all I wanted was just that.

After crying until early dawn, I convinced myself that things would be okay if I waited, if I endured all of the pain, if I stopped trying to do things alone, and asked for help.

I am still hurting to this day, and trying my best to get through things, but I want people to know that they are never alone, never ever in their lives will they be alone. People love and care for you and the stigma around mental health is bullshit, I don't care if we don't know each other or have a bumpy past, I will give you love and support just like what I needed a year ago today.

You are loved, cherished and needed here for reasons you're yet to understand, and so am I. If you're looking for a reason not to kill yourself, this is it.

This is me today, I am still at war with my own mind, but I am persevering and doing my best to find happiness.