S.N. Lamblin
Entry Twenty-four
I lose my shit, suicide attempt and end up in a psych ward. Burning down the house – So, I had tried this stuff before as a kid. Not very well thought out attempts but I had tried it before. This time I had a real plan though. Mom and my step dad were going to be gone that night because it was Christmas Eve. They were going with my sister to her son’s other grandma’s house to open gifts so I know I would have the house to myself. Mom like to shop in bulk, so we had a giant bottle of Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. Once they left, I gather up all the photos of me and the ex. All his love letters and gifts over our years together, the blueprints of the home I had designed for us to someday live in, the contents of my wedding planning books, everything that would have been our life together. A got a metal trash can from the backyard and threw it all inside. In the middle of my bedroom I stood with a box of matches in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. I called my mom and told her to make sure my nephews didn’t come over to the house that night. She asked me why. I avoided the question and told her just to promise me should wouldn’t bring them with her. Again, she asked why with concern in her voice. I told her that I didn’t want them to see what I was going to do. She knew what that meant and started to cry. I hung up the phone and opened the bottle. I poured out two handfuls of the pills and started to swallow them. The doctor said took probably over 30 pills. I took a deep breath and struck the match. Before I knew it, the room was full of smoke. I started chocking on the smoke and the flames surrounded me. I lost consciousness and the next thing I remember, I woke up in the hospital. When I woke up, I was covered in bandages. They said that the smoke had blacked out form the smoke inhalation. My mom had called 911 while she was on her way to the house to stop me. Her and my step dad tried to get in to pull me out and got trapped in the fire but had managed to be me out. When the fire trucks and ambulance arrived, the first responders found me, but they didn’t make it. They knew from my mom’s call that I was planning to kill myself. They found the melted pill bottle in the bedroom and pumped and gave me charcoal. I woke up to find out that I had failed at another attempt. Not only that but I had made me and my sister orphans. My nephews no longer had grandparents. The state sentenced me to life out the rest of my days in this lovely hospital where I live a life of constant pain inside and out. The scares on my body and on my very soul serve as a constant reminder that I will never escape this nightmare. I have become the monster in the lives of all the people I once blamed for my own misery. To those who took away my very will to live, I am now nothing more than the crazy one they have locked away.