Flashback – Suicide Attempt

To continue the theme of Suicide Prevention, I decided to get a little bit personal with this entry. I wanted to share unfortunately one of my few suicide attempts. Of course, I am sharing not because I want pity or attention. I am sharing because I genuinely believe when one voices their story it creates change for the mental health community. I will say this though, if you are not ready to share your story, that is fine. It is not mandatory to tell your experience for it to be valid or help to create change within mental health. Do not feel pressure to do so. There are other ways to assist within the community. With that being said, let us proceed…

I was a Freshmen in college, and I was nervous about the whole experience. You see, I went to an all-girls high school. I had interacted with the opposite sex, but not as much. So, entering college where I will be around the opposite sex more than usual was nerve racking. Especially when in senior year of high school, they made us watch a video of all the awful things that can happen to young women within campus.

Also, I had strict Haitian parents who barely allow me to make mistakes, find myself a little more, and basically grow up. I was extremely sheltered and the overwhelming stress from the high expectations were a lot for me. From that, I had low self-esteem, self-doubt, and self-hate towards myself. I was hoping living on campus will not only get me away from the tight grip of my parents, but allow me to find myself.

Unfortunately, my first semester roommate made my life a living hell. She spread untrue horrible rumors to the whole Freshmen dorm, which made me extremely unpopular. It was bad enough I was the weird black girl that had punk and Gothic clothing who listened to a lot rock music. I was shy and quiet. I didn’t had time to make friends because I was a full time student working 2 jobs. Any free time I had was used for studying, alone time with the lover at the moment, and traveling home to help my parents around the house. Lack of socializing made me more of an outcast. Which cause a lot of manipulative bullying on campus.

As stated, I had low self esteem and I did not know how to control my anger. It was either I let the issue slide or I get extremely physically violate. I didn’t know how to stand up for myself without being so abrasive. The fear of getting in trouble cause me to let things slide. Which increased the bullying.

black-college-student-woman-by-stack-of-booksOn top of that I started college going into Nursing because that’s what my parents wanted. I have changed my mind and this infuriated my parents. They gave me only one semester to figure out what I wanted to do, and it had to be to their liking. Of course, being a full time student, working 2 jobs, being bullied on campus, the presence of many predatory male students on campus, and the pressure of finding a new major to satisfied my parents were so intense for me that I had 2 heart attacks my first semester.

This held me back in all my classes. Thankfully, some professors were understanding to the situation and let me do extra credit and extended the due dates on assignments. Because of that not only I passed, but I had high grades on those courses. And of course, there were the grumpy professors who do not care about my situation. They automatically failed me and I had to retake the class all over again. Despite my incredibly good grades on the other classes it still placed me in in Academic probation. This displeased my parents. They yelled and hit me for a long time. Even though they knew why it occurred, it was still somehow, my fault.

Second semester, I had 2 more heart attacks again. The bullying have gotten worse, my second job let me go. Being in academic probation took up my time. The expectations from my parents grew higher. I wasn’t fully happy with the major I chose, but it was a compromise between my parents and I. The lover and I broke up. The courses were still Nursing classes because it was automatically setup when I first started. Therefore the classes for the new degree didn’t begin until my Sophomore year. So I was still studying things I had no passion for. Don’t get me wrong, I was excelling in them, but I was dreading every minute of it.

Toward the end of Freshmen year I was feeling completely depressed. “Look at you. You’re so weak. Can’t stand up for yourself for the tiniest thing. That’s why the relationship did not work. Besides, you’re unlovable. Who can love someone like you? You are clearly dumb. On top of that you don’t know what to do with your life. You’re a loser. This why they pick on you. You deserve to get picked on. C’mon, look at you. You’re weird. Your parents are right. You are a disappointment. You’re a sucker to believe in your childhood dreams. How are you still alive after 4 heart attacks anyway? It’s clear that you should be dead. This is a sign from god that you should be dead. Just die already. You have nothing to offer because you are nothing. And never will be anything. Why live? You’re a waste of space. Kill yourself. Do it. Do it! Kill. Yourself. What are you waiting for? There are the pills. Do. It. DO IT! Stop being scared for once and get the balls to end it once and for all. Doooooo Iiiiiiit!”

Grabbed the bottle of Advil and had a handful of pills. Swallow them all down and laid in bed. For once I was at peace. The thought of going to sleep and never waking up again felt so wonderful. I felt like the weight was off my shoulder and I can finally rest, in, peace. I closed my eyes mentally preparing myself for judgement day. I feel asleep. It was pitch black for a few seconds. Then imageries of my nieces appeared. In that moment, I started to feel bad. The fact I would not get to see them grow up and see the kind of amazing human beings they will become, saddens my heart. The imagery quickly disappeared as soon as I thought, “I am a horrible aunt and they are better without me”

Went back to pitch black for a good moment. Then I heard beeping. I woke up to bright lights in my eye, a doctor and a few nurses hovering over me, as I witnessed and feel a tube down my throat. A charcoal slight acid feel risred up through my esophagus and was vacuumed from the tubed. I was shit scared. My instinct was to remove the tube with my hand, but my hands and feet were locked down. I started to scream and they were trying to calm me down. But I couldn’t. I felt a prick on my arm and in seconds I knocked out.

black-girl-lying-down-sleeping-relaxed-beautiful-woman-portrait-148281124I woke up in a room. Still tied down onto the bed. A nurse was there. I demanded to be released. She quickly ran out the room. A few moments later the doctor entered in stating I had an overdosage and how they had to pump my stomach out. “I know waking up to the experience must have frighten you, but it was the only way to save your life” the doctor said. “I didn’t ask you to save me…” I responded disdainfully. The doctor bowed his head and nod. He told me someone else would want to see me and walked out of the room.

What felt like eternity, a man came in. He asked me questions about depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. I agreed to cooperate and answer the question in exchange of gaining freedom for my hands and legs. At the end of the assessment he strongly recommended that I stay a little longer. I refused. He kept assistant and I kept refusing. I had gotten so irate that I shouted, “I don’t want to stay. Release me right now!” He was startled. I couldn’t believe I did that. They quickly discharge me, but gve me a few places to go to for mental help. I immediately tossed their suggestion thinking I was fine (-_- …. >_>… yea, I know right!). I took a taxi back on campus. Of course, the RA and everybody on campus advisory had to talk to me and check up on me. And you know I lied a lot to get them off my back and prevent them to contact my parents.

As I walked back in my room and collapsed on the very bed I thought I would die in, I cried. It wasn’t tears of relief and joy. It was tears of dissatisfaction. I wanted to be dead. “Why am I not dead?” I screamed in my head. I was furious for being alive. Then I felt like even more of a loser because I couldn’t even kill myself correctly. I cried so hard into my pillow. Then I heard knocking on the door. I stop crying so they can go away. “Michy, we know you’re in there. Open the door”

“FUCK!” I thought. I quickly got up. Whip my face and open the door. There were 5 girls I have recognize. Through out the school year they were extra nice to me. They offer their seat at the table in the rare times at the cafeteria. Any mandatory campus activities, they always invited me to sit with them. Those occasional moments of us crossing each other paths walking on campus, they invited me to walk around campus and town. They were always nice to me and I have always thought it was out of pity. I guess I should have not been surprised about the visit, but it did.

Of course, word got around of what happened. Student and Campus Advisement confidentiality my ass!!! They ask me to hang out to one of their dorms. I refused, but they begged and guilt me to. They didn’t ask me about what happened. We were listening to music, eating Chinese food, watching shows and movies, and talking. I felt like one of the girls. In that moment I forgot about what happened and I was happy. Then the conversations get more real the longer we hung out. To my surprise all the girls had a crappy year and gone through their own challenges. They had a bit of depression and anxiety too. It encourage me to open up as well, and everyone was surprise with my story. It was great to let it all out and not be judged. We were all emotional. Just crying and hugging and letting it all out. It was the kind of night that I needed.

After that night, It took off from work just to give me time to think. So I finally cave in and decided to start using the therapist the college had to offer on my sophomore year. I decided to focus on school more and find jobs that had not only flexible but less hours. I decided to stop seeing my parents every weekend and let them figured things out on their own. That weekend I had to reevaluate my life at the moment. I’m glad I did, because that’s when I finally put my big girl pants and started to work on my mental health.

5e94be2616b3f497b8435944.w800Now I would like to say hanging out with the girls made us life long friends, but it didn’t. What you thought this was Sisterhood of Traveling Pants? Lol! I was okay with it. I got what I got from it, and it made me open my eyes about everybody else. You may think you had it difficult but you don’t know anybody elses hardship. And even if you do, this is not competition. Not trying out do one another on who has it worse. Just be there for one another the best way possible. And the best way to build a great support system to do so, is to express ourselves. Open up. When you open up good things comes your way. This will help us to adult one day at a time.


Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

Suicide Prevention Live Chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/











12 thoughts on “Flashback – Suicide Attempt

  1. Michy, thank you for sharing, I think you have given a powerful insight into how we need to be so aware of our feelings, personality type, our fears. Your vulnerability will encourage and held others.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thank you for having the courage to share your story, Michy. The pain people carry is often so difficult to see. I have been there in my life, too, and have learned that the sensitivity and depth that made me vulnerable have turned out to be among the gifts I can offer others. Sending my gratitude and best wishes to you. 💜

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I am speechless after reading this. I am sorry you had to go through this. This story will open many silent voices out there. Somewhere in your words I found myself in a period of time. I am ok now. Thankyou so much for sharing this. I am so glad you have over come this.

    Liked by 1 person

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