Oct 2016
Blackness that’s all I remember. Pain that’s all I felt. I was just 12 when death started calling my name. My name is Becca and this is my story well was… I was 12 and my older sister was babysitting me and my little sister. Death…....that was the first time I actually seriously thought about it. I held the knife up to my chest my heart beating rapidly , terrified and just didn’t want to fight anymore, I dropped the knife. I fought the thoughts of death off 6th through 7th grade. Eighth grade was a rough year, I went to Waunakee schools and I was bullied a lot. I got picked on because scars covered my body. That’s where my story really begins. It was January of 2015 and I lost it I found the pill bottle and counted out exactly fourteen pills because that is the age I didn't want to see. I was found by my parents; they called the police refusing to let me end my pain. That’s when things started to really going down hill.
6th grade:
6th grade I got picked on because I like different things I wasn’t the average kid that was into what everybody else was. I also could be considered a religious freak. That year my grandma had been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. I prayed for her constantly. Thinking it would make her better. That year I had also learned about the holocaust. That made me not sleep at night. I was constantly terrified. I started hearing voices then. I never told anyone I thought it was the devil so I just started praying. I thought about killing myself many times. I never went through with it because I was scared of death and what came after it. I constantly fought myself.
7th grade:
That year was unexplainably one of the worst years of my life. My older sister started seeing a therapist. I didn’t know why. My religion had always said to depend on God when you were having a difficult time. I got picked on majorly that year because people thought I was lesbian but, I said no way in hell am I lesbian. that year my parents told me they didn’t believe in God. I was already majorly depressed and well I hid that. That was the last thing I needed. I started cutting. I stopped because I didn’t want anyone to see. I was friends with this one girl named Taylor she was super tiny and well I was bigger than her. One day she called me fat. I already had body image issues. I stopped eating. I was anorexic. As of March 2014 I was 5’0 and 72 pounds. I was taken to the doctors and well I wasn’t hospitalized. My parents just sat down with me until I ate the food that they put on my plate. I wasn’t allowed to serve myself at all because they were afraid I was going to starve myself. I wasn’t allowed to pack my own lunch, little do they know, that only made things worse. My older sister would pack me a meat sandwich. Meat was never my favorite thing. especially meat sandwiches. I never really ate at school when I was younger I always threw away my lunches if I didn’t like them. I always had a hard time eating. Recovering was one of the hardest things I had ever done in my life. Little had I known that what was coming next would change my life forever.
Summer: The summer going into eighth grade was so hard for me. My parents let us go to church but was hesitant with every week that went by. That summer I turned thirteen and as usual by birthday was hell. I was losing myself with everyday that passed. Then I started playing this game called Meez. It made my depression worse because then I started getting bullied on the game. I didn’t stop playing because I didn’t have friends. The only ones I did have were online.
Eighth grade:
Everyday was a battle; I could barely get out of bed. The first part of eighth grade was a blur. Kids picked on me. My grades were dropping faster than a blink of an eye. I had no friends. The friends I did have turned on me. I was all alone facing my battle of depression. I started cutting majorly. It was bad. Till one day we didn’t have school, It was a Monday. I remember that day like it was yesterday. My mom took us to Pizza Hut for lunch. Then we came home. My dad was gone at a meeting. My mom went to drop my older sister off for babysitting. Now was my chance. I run to the cupboard grab the bottle of ibuprofen counted exactly fourteen pills. I was scared to be honest I stood there for a minute thinking this is the last night. I took them. I ran upstairs crying. My little sister looked at me and saw I was upset and asked me what was wrong. All I could say was “I’m sorry. I know I’m not the greatest sister but, I love you so much.” My mom came home then and I went downstairs. She saw that I was crying. She asked me what was the matter. I bursted into tears again. All I could say was “I’m sorry” over and over again. Then she yelled at me telling me to say what the hell I did. That’s when I told her. She started crying. She started calling the cops. I started screaming “NO! LET ME DIE! I’M MISERABLE!” I heard the sirens coming. My dad walked in asking what was going on, my mom told him. She was shaking so hard and crying. The police walked in they questioned me thoroughly. I was rushed to the hospital. I had so many tests done. I spent the night there. The next day I was discharged from the UW hospital and admitted to the Meriter child and adolescent psychiatric facility.
Hospital:
´´Hi my name is Becca.´´
were my first words there. I was terrified and still wanted to die. The first thing I really participated in was karaoke. It was ok I guess I laughed so, I could get out of there as fast as I could. I spent the next day being angry that I hadn’t died, then the second day I was there that’s when I met him. But I’ll get to that later. I spent the next 5 days attending group therapy, DBT, mindfulness, and many other things.
Miles:
When I first saw him I stopped and stared. It was like time had stopped. (this is where I would stop if you don’t feel like going through an emotional rollercoaster and have your heart ripped out.) When he entered the day room I couldn’t get over his shirt. It was a Sleeping with Sirens shirt they were my favorite band. Then his eyes, piercing ice blue eyes that screamed out in pain. Then I just stopped talking because he looked irritated. The next morning I was as quiets as a mouse then he sat by me and started conversation. We got along I was like one of the only people he talked to. Movie night that’s when things changed. He said he wanted to just hold me. That is a night I never wished had happened. He talked to me constantly. He confided in me, he trusted me. I thought he loved me as I loved him. Two days later I got released from the hospital. I cried that day because all I wanted to do was stay by him to make sure he was ok.
After Miles:
My parents found out we were dating and they made me leave him. I struggled. I loved him. He was my world. I regret to say I still love him but, I would be lying if I said I didn’t. I had tried to **** myself right in front of my parents after they told me I couldn’t talk to him anymore. I felt so much pain. Then a month later my older sister tried killing herself. I tried killing myself a couple days later. I was sent to another mental hospital.
The other Mental Hospital:
I was sent to St.Luke’s it’s a step down from Winnebago. It was scary at St.Luke’s you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without having someone unlock the door. There were no paper towels. You had to share a room. Showers were 15 minutes. We had to be at least 2 feet from the other patients. We also didn’t talk about our problems; we had to do worksheets instead.
October 19 2015:
I knew that day that I wanted it to be my last. I went to school and acted like everything was fine even though I knew what I had planned. I went home did my homework, ate supper, did the dishes, and had a bonfire with my family. When everyone went to bed I pulled out my shiny, bottle of advil, and hard cider. I downed the hard cider and 30 advil. I sliced my wrist up the blood was slithering down my arm. I was rushed to the hospital I stayed at the UW for 2 days. I was then admitted to the Meriter child and adolescent psychiatric facility again . It was hell as usual. I got back the following Monday. I went back to school the next day. things are starting to get a little bit better. The suicidal thoughts and thoughts of self harm are still there but I have new coping skills.
Goodbye note (I had wrote this hoping someone would find it after I died but, obviously I’m still here”):
I had set my suicide date to January 31st but I can’t do this. I feel like a walking Zombie. I tried everything to hide the pain and deal with the pain. So this is goodbye I guess. You will never know my full story. No one will but me. The demons I faced have taken hold of me. I took 30 pills because 15 is the age I do not want to see and I couldn’t imagine living double that time. <3 you all dearly.
Seven letter one word ends it all:
I’m guessing you are wondering what that word is. Well It’s suicide. S for self harm. U for useless. I for I hate myself. C for crying all the time. I for illegal substances. D for death. E for ending it all. This is my story and I’m fighting a battle everyday.
6th grade:
6th grade I got picked on because I like different things I wasn’t the average kid that was into what everybody else was. I also could be considered a religious freak. That year my grandma had been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. I prayed for her constantly. Thinking it would make her better. That year I had also learned about the holocaust. That made me not sleep at night. I was constantly terrified. I started hearing voices then. I never told anyone I thought it was the devil so I just started praying. I thought about killing myself many times. I never went through with it because I was scared of death and what came after it. I constantly fought myself.
7th grade:
That year was unexplainably one of the worst years of my life. My older sister started seeing a therapist. I didn’t know why. My religion had always said to depend on God when you were having a difficult time. I got picked on majorly that year because people thought I was lesbian but, I said no way in hell am I lesbian. that year my parents told me they didn’t believe in God. I was already majorly depressed and well I hid that. That was the last thing I needed. I started cutting. I stopped because I didn’t want anyone to see. I was friends with this one girl named Taylor she was super tiny and well I was bigger than her. One day she called me fat. I already had body image issues. I stopped eating. I was anorexic. As of March 2014 I was 5’0 and 72 pounds. I was taken to the doctors and well I wasn’t hospitalized. My parents just sat down with me until I ate the food that they put on my plate. I wasn’t allowed to serve myself at all because they were afraid I was going to starve myself. I wasn’t allowed to pack my own lunch, little do they know, that only made things worse. My older sister would pack me a meat sandwich. Meat was never my favorite thing. especially meat sandwiches. I never really ate at school when I was younger I always threw away my lunches if I didn’t like them. I always had a hard time eating. Recovering was one of the hardest things I had ever done in my life. Little had I known that what was coming next would change my life forever.
Summer: The summer going into eighth grade was so hard for me. My parents let us go to church but was hesitant with every week that went by. That summer I turned thirteen and as usual by birthday was hell. I was losing myself with everyday that passed. Then I started playing this game called Meez. It made my depression worse because then I started getting bullied on the game. I didn’t stop playing because I didn’t have friends. The only ones I did have were online.
Eighth grade:
Everyday was a battle; I could barely get out of bed. The first part of eighth grade was a blur. Kids picked on me. My grades were dropping faster than a blink of an eye. I had no friends. The friends I did have turned on me. I was all alone facing my battle of depression. I started cutting majorly. It was bad. Till one day we didn’t have school, It was a Monday. I remember that day like it was yesterday. My mom took us to Pizza Hut for lunch. Then we came home. My dad was gone at a meeting. My mom went to drop my older sister off for babysitting. Now was my chance. I run to the cupboard grab the bottle of ibuprofen counted exactly fourteen pills. I was scared to be honest I stood there for a minute thinking this is the last night. I took them. I ran upstairs crying. My little sister looked at me and saw I was upset and asked me what was wrong. All I could say was “I’m sorry. I know I’m not the greatest sister but, I love you so much.” My mom came home then and I went downstairs. She saw that I was crying. She asked me what was the matter. I bursted into tears again. All I could say was “I’m sorry” over and over again. Then she yelled at me telling me to say what the hell I did. That’s when I told her. She started crying. She started calling the cops. I started screaming “NO! LET ME DIE! I’M MISERABLE!” I heard the sirens coming. My dad walked in asking what was going on, my mom told him. She was shaking so hard and crying. The police walked in they questioned me thoroughly. I was rushed to the hospital. I had so many tests done. I spent the night there. The next day I was discharged from the UW hospital and admitted to the Meriter child and adolescent psychiatric facility.
Hospital:
´´Hi my name is Becca.´´
were my first words there. I was terrified and still wanted to die. The first thing I really participated in was karaoke. It was ok I guess I laughed so, I could get out of there as fast as I could. I spent the next day being angry that I hadn’t died, then the second day I was there that’s when I met him. But I’ll get to that later. I spent the next 5 days attending group therapy, DBT, mindfulness, and many other things.
Miles:
When I first saw him I stopped and stared. It was like time had stopped. (this is where I would stop if you don’t feel like going through an emotional rollercoaster and have your heart ripped out.) When he entered the day room I couldn’t get over his shirt. It was a Sleeping with Sirens shirt they were my favorite band. Then his eyes, piercing ice blue eyes that screamed out in pain. Then I just stopped talking because he looked irritated. The next morning I was as quiets as a mouse then he sat by me and started conversation. We got along I was like one of the only people he talked to. Movie night that’s when things changed. He said he wanted to just hold me. That is a night I never wished had happened. He talked to me constantly. He confided in me, he trusted me. I thought he loved me as I loved him. Two days later I got released from the hospital. I cried that day because all I wanted to do was stay by him to make sure he was ok.
After Miles:
My parents found out we were dating and they made me leave him. I struggled. I loved him. He was my world. I regret to say I still love him but, I would be lying if I said I didn’t. I had tried to **** myself right in front of my parents after they told me I couldn’t talk to him anymore. I felt so much pain. Then a month later my older sister tried killing herself. I tried killing myself a couple days later. I was sent to another mental hospital.
The other Mental Hospital:
I was sent to St.Luke’s it’s a step down from Winnebago. It was scary at St.Luke’s you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without having someone unlock the door. There were no paper towels. You had to share a room. Showers were 15 minutes. We had to be at least 2 feet from the other patients. We also didn’t talk about our problems; we had to do worksheets instead.
October 19 2015:
I knew that day that I wanted it to be my last. I went to school and acted like everything was fine even though I knew what I had planned. I went home did my homework, ate supper, did the dishes, and had a bonfire with my family. When everyone went to bed I pulled out my shiny, bottle of advil, and hard cider. I downed the hard cider and 30 advil. I sliced my wrist up the blood was slithering down my arm. I was rushed to the hospital I stayed at the UW for 2 days. I was then admitted to the Meriter child and adolescent psychiatric facility again . It was hell as usual. I got back the following Monday. I went back to school the next day. things are starting to get a little bit better. The suicidal thoughts and thoughts of self harm are still there but I have new coping skills.
Goodbye note (I had wrote this hoping someone would find it after I died but, obviously I’m still here”):
I had set my suicide date to January 31st but I can’t do this. I feel like a walking Zombie. I tried everything to hide the pain and deal with the pain. So this is goodbye I guess. You will never know my full story. No one will but me. The demons I faced have taken hold of me. I took 30 pills because 15 is the age I do not want to see and I couldn’t imagine living double that time. <3 you all dearly.
Seven letter one word ends it all:
I’m guessing you are wondering what that word is. Well It’s suicide. S for self harm. U for useless. I for I hate myself. C for crying all the time. I for illegal substances. D for death. E for ending it all. This is my story and I’m fighting a battle everyday.
