I sat in that car, watching the rain hit my windshield and forcing myself to only focus on that noise. I tried to imagine myself building up a wall that would close off all of those terrible thoughts that reverberated throughout my thoughts. My chest was moving up and down in quick, rapid movements that felt like they were getting tighter and tighter around my lungs. Everything hurt. I remember it all hurt because the moment I decided to do what I did next, it all stopped hurting.

It was like a switch, turned off all the crowding inside my mind and just cleared it all away, revealing only one focal point. After it switched off I moved like mechanical work, as if I had pictured this happening so many times that it was muscle memory to me now. I opened the passenger side compartment and there it was. Right where I had left it in case of emergencies.

It stared back at me and my mind imagined a silhouette pulsating around it, making it impossible to avoid. In this moment, nothing mattered except this one object and what effect it would have. In this moment, that object would alter my life and I think a part of me knew that and relished the idea. Another part of me knew that I had already accepted what doing this would bring me and I was at peace with it already.

Before I had time to second guess myself, I grabbed the pill bottle and opened it, empty the entire contents into my hand. Then I stared at that. Each little white pill represented another reason it seemed like a good idea: my chest hurt, I was weak, I couldn’t handle it anymore, I had wounded my body with the scars I carried in my own head, I had lost my will, my head continued to pound each second of the day with the thoughts that had been contaminating me for years now.

Despite the plans I had made, there truly was never a good time to do this and I knew that, but nothing seemed to be shouting at me to stop, so I didn’t. I swallowed all 25 of those pills, and I have to admit that even moments after I did it, there was no regret. I felt that peace I had been longing for. I felt the pain in my heart simmer down. It was exquisite and terrifying, tranquil and chaotic. The perfect contradiction. In that moment, I no longer felt bound to my demons, I felt them starting to drift off and wash away with the idea of relief.

I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes, breathing it in. I didn’t think about anything except relief. I thought about how it had been my goal for so long and if I accomplished it, then I would be at peace with myself and all the things I had not done. I thought about the venom I had been spatting at myself for years and how it had continued to eat away at me until now.

But then I thought about why I lasted so long, and that changed the outcome that could have been. I remembered that I still need to write my letter to Charlotte before I graduated. I remembered that I still had things to say to Elizabeth. I still had to give Joseph his first kiss by the time we went to Germany like I had drunkenly promised last year. I still had to try out that virtual reality swing with Leigh in Philadelphia. My sister and I still needed to do a Bob Ross painting tutorial together. My brother and I needed to play that video game about zombies together. I had to finishing rewatching One Tree Hill with my aunt. My grandfather still needed to take me to Hawaii and my mom. My mom still needed the child who got good grades and worked super hard. I had too much to lose.

I think that caring too deeply about people will always either be my downfall or my saving grace and therefore, I wouldn’t change that quality about myself ever.

The realization of what I had just done hit me then, and I went into total panic mode. It was a different kind of panicked attack than what I was use to or not use to. It was my entire body circulating with utter terror. My heart immediately started pounding at a quickening pace and my chest was heaving along. I started sweating profusely and my hands shook violently. I could hear my breathing become harsh and rapid. It overtook me and I tried to reach for my phone across the seat through my blurred vision. Once I grasped it, I hastily picked a familiar contact to dial and my phone started to ring.

My sister answered on the third ring.

“What’s up little one?”

“Britt….Brittany I did something bad.”

“What? What happened? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I was hurting… and I didn’t know what to do… I took some pills- I took all of them.”

“What?! Why would you fucking do that? You need to make yourself throw up, why would you do that? Why would you want to die?!”

“I was hurting…”

“You need to make yourself throw up, why would you do this!?”

“I’m gonna call mom.”

Then I hung up.

I stuck my finger down my throat and threw up in that elementary school parking lot. Then my aunt and brother picked me up and drove me to a hospital. I only texted Evan and Leigh that I was going there. Before I could update them on what was happening, they took my clothes and my phone. I was forced to put on the hospital gown, injected with a needle and had to pee while a nurse stood in the bathroom with me. My mom has met us at the hospital. So she sat with me in the ER room.

A nurse came by and asked me a ton of questions that I didn’t want to answer.

“I am just going to ask you a couple questions and I want you to answer honestly.”

“Whatever.”

“What happened tonight?”

“Well I think you already know what happened so I don’t know why I have to tell you, but I swallowed some pills.”

“Why?”

“Cause I wanted to, why does anyone do anything?”

“How many pills?”

“Am I suppose to count before I swallow a handful? Sorry, I didn’t realize what the protocol was. 20-25 maybe. I don’t know”

“Where were you? Did anyone know you were going to do this?”

“I was in my car and some like to describe me as spontaneous. That “some” being me, so no. No one knew”

“Do you have a significant other currently?”

“What kind of fucking question is that, no.”

“Do you do drugs? Drink alcohol?”

“From time to time but I’m not some addict.”

“When was the last time you used any other those?”

“New Years I guess?”

“What triggered you tonight?”

“Good question, wish I knew the answer.”

“Do you harm yourself?”

“You can see my arm just fine, I’m sure you can answer that yourself.”

“Did you take the pills with anything else?”

“All these questions are kind of making me wish I had but no.”

Those are the only questions I remember her asking. It was quite out of character for me to be so rude. I am usually really cooperative and respectful to adults but I just didn’t have it in me. I felt like It was the worst part of me answering. All the bad things that I usually would never say. The funny part was that my mom didn’t even tell me off. She just sat there without saying a word, looking haunted.

I think the sarcastic part of me had become the leading force because I didn’t want to accept that I had gotten into a serious situation like this. I wanted to pretend that I was not dying on the inside or that I already felt like I had. I wanted to pretend that I hadn’t done the worst thing possible to my mom. Pretend that my brother hadn’t witnessed me force myself to throw up. The brother I use to be best friends with and play video games with and sleep in the same room with when we were kids. It seemed like lifestyles ago now. Everything did.

Even now, when it was blatantly obvious that I was in a terrible place, i didn’t want to accept it. Accepting it would mean that I had to deal with it, and if I had to do that I wouldn’t survive.

We stayed at the hospital for hours. I was forced to drink charcoal, it was the worst thing I have ever tasted and I promise that is not an exaggeration. It made me throw up a couple times. I talked to a psychology through this Skype call and he manipulated me into going to a psych ward. I pretended to sleep for a little while my mom questioned the nurse about why I would do this to myself. I started to recall all the responsibilities I knew that I would have piled up when I got out of this, whenever that would be, and I tried to ease that overwhelming sense of panic starting to rise in me. I thought about how Charlotte would worry about where I was and I wouldn’t be able to answer because I wouldn’t be able to have my phone for awhile.

At around 1:45 am, two ambulance people came into my room with a gurney. I don’t remember their names but I know they told me what they were. They piled on blankets to cover me in because it was cold outside. Then they strapped me in tightly, as if I would start struggling. After that I was wheeled out and into an ambulance, on my way to an unknown destination.

On my way to a place I would stay for a little while.