I am a survivor of suicide.
I’ve attempted three times. One when I was 19, and two when I was 24/25.
The first two were a cry for help, taking a bunch of pills and downing a bottle of alcohol. The last is when I nearly died and ended up in the hospital for three weeks.
I’ve battled with depression for a very long time. Going back to when my father passed of a brain aneurism when I was six. My mother than re married 10 months later to a man I thought would be a good man at first. I remember the first year of their marriage. It was good, fun. Then he started using drugs again. Crack, coke, weed. He got my mom addicted as well. He molested me for three years. I was so young, that I didn’t know that this was any different. Sex was just a thing we did. It became normal to me. He made me think that we were in some sort of messed up relationship; always making sure I could do and get what I want despite what my mother thought about it. I smoked my first cigarette when I was 11. Then smoking on the daily at 13. Started smoking weed when I was 12. I remember going to his dealers houses with him, watching him do random jobs for him around the house for drugs. Sneaking around the house to have sex really quick to make sure my mom or who ever else didn’t catch us. At the time it was all okay. I had friends, anything I wanted, someone I thought I could rely on.
He had told his son about us. My step brother. I remember one night he had stayed at our house and we both slept out on the pull out couch in the living room. (We were poor growing up, so my brother, mom, and I took turns sleeping in the living room. We moved around a lot, and in this house it was my turn in the living room.) once everyone went to sleep, he said to me “dad told me about you guys, let me just finger you. I want to make you feel good too.” I denied and denied. “Let me stick just the tip in. Please, Shelby please.” I felt stuck. He wouldn’t stop. I ended up letting him finger me then went on the love seat and acted like I was sleeping so he would leave me alone.
Out of the six years him and my mom were married he was in jail for about 3 years. I hate to say it now, but I did miss him while he was in there. We went to visit him often, through the glass talking through a phone. I remember it always smelled so bad.
Towards the end of their marriage, him and his best friend ended up getting into a really big fight. (He knew about us as well.) his best friend ended up calling cops and everything got investigated. I remember going into the investigation room. A nice lady gave me a big piece of paper and some crayons and told me to color whatever I wanted. I wondered why there was such a big mirror in the room. (Later realizing that it was a double sided mirror.) right before I went into the room, my mom whispered to me “don’t tell them anything. We don’t want daddy to go to jail again.” So I didn’t. I was quiet the whole time. Once we were done in the room, I asked if I could go to the bath room. One of the workers said “of course, honey. You think you could do it in this cup though.” This made my mom mad. I remember her yelling and saying that I shouldn’t have to do this. She’s just a little girl. (Now I know it’s because I would have tested positive for weed)
I think all of that was a big reality check for my mom. Shortly after all of that he ended up back in jail for not paying child support. We packed up our whole house into the biggest moving truck and went back to Texas where I was born. Without telling him.
I believe this is where a lot of my depression stems from. Not being able to forgive him or my mother. Not being able to let go of it all. Feeling cheated and like my childhood was robbed of me. I became a very codependent person. Always looking for help, and for someone to bail me out of situations that I put myself in, but couldn’t get myself out of.
Fast forward to when I was 22;
I had just got out of a toxic 4 year relationship. Living back with my mom. I picked up whiskey and a crutch. Drinking a half a bottle a night. Drinking myself to sleep, alone. This was the first time in a very long time I was by myself. No one to leach onto. No one to take care of, or to be taken care of. I became an alcoholic. A functioning alcoholic. I went to work, shaking and groggy most days, but I still went. Came home and began drinking. Always making sure I stopped by the liquor store on the way home so I didn’t have to worry about driving if I ended up finishing the bottle and wanted more. That’s what I spend money on. Didn’t save, didn’t worry about having nice things. Just made sure I had the juice to help me forget and sleep.
On August 17, 2019, just like any other night, I became blacked out drunk. I only remember bits and pieces of this night so I’ll try my best to tell the story. My boyfriend and I ended up going to a bar up the street to play pool, and throw some darts. I remember being there, but I don’t remember leaving. I guess I had lost my phone, and I became belligerent and starting fighting with the bartender thinking they had stole it. We left the bar, and he told me he had to carry me inside. I’m not sure if we were fighting or not. I just know I was drunk and still being belligerent. He told me “why don’t you just go outside and calm down.” When I went outside I ended up slicing my wrists so bad, and drinking coolant. I came back in, blood gushing and running down my arms. I threw the bottle of coolant into the house spilling it everywhere. (Still don’t remember any of this) I guess I ended up walking all around the house, staining walls and carpets with blood. My boyfriend called 911 and I was baker acted. The cops came, took me to the ER, then from there I went to a behavioral health center. I don’t remember anything till I got to behavioral health. But even then I don’t remember much. I went to the er about 10 pm on the 17th and got to BH the next day around 3. I remember doing the initial psych intake exam and getting my room. Calling my mom and boyfriend to let them know I was okay. Through out the day I started getting really dizzy and feeling like I couldn’t stand or was straight. They were giving me adivan to help with alcohol withdraws, so I just thought it was because of that, forgetting that I had drank coolant. Later that night around 8:30 I remember completely falling in my room. Thinking to myself I need to get my shit together and stand up straight so I could see my boyfriend for visitation. The nurses ended up putting me in a wheel chair and wheeled me in to see him. I felt fine other than not being able to keep my balance. He later told me that I looked crazy, my breathing was rapid and short. We didn’t talk for too long, the nurses said that was enough and wheeled me back to my room. That was the last thing I remembered.
I was found unresponsive in my room early the next morning and rushed back to the hospital. At this point the coolant had been in my system for over 24 hours. I was intubated because I couldn’t breath on my own. And all they knew is that my kidneys were failing. I never told any of the doctors at first that I drank coolant and that was a big mistake. I went back to the hospital on the 19th, a Monday. I was put on dialysis and had two dialysis treatments that I don’t even remember. My mom has flown down from Ohio on Tuesday. By that point I was awake, weak, but awake. I didn’t remember anything. Where I was, nor who my mom was who was right in front of me. Wednesday I started to remember a little bit. Where I was, who the president was. My brothers name. They asked me who the lady was sitting next to me, (my mom) and I didn’t know. She showed me a picture of our dog and I remembered him, dexter. My mom started to regain hope. It wasn’t until Thursday that I started remembering everything. I had lost 4 days. Woke up in the icu, throat so sore from the tubes that were down my throat. Could barley stand to get up and go to the toilet to use the bathroom. I remember having to have two people help me to the toilet. And them having to wipe my own ass because I couldn’t do it.
Every day I grew stronger. Thursday they moved me out of the icu on to the 4th floor. I walked myself down there, so the physical therapy wrote me off as okay on their end. I had dialysis Monday Wednesday and Friday. Three hours at a time. Taking 2 liters of fluid out every time, because my kidneys couldn’t do it for me. I was on bed rest, and a fall risk with a bed alarm on so I couldn’t even get up without a nurse coming in the assist me.
My third dialysis treatment was the first one I remembered. I was scared. Not knowing how it was going to be. I had a catheter out of the right side of my neck that they hooked me up to the machine with. Two tubes. One to take out the blood, and one to put it back in with. The first few treatments were hard on me. My kidneys were so raw and sore that it was painful. My blood pressure would always go way up, giving me horrible headaches. It was torture sitting there for three hours. They weren’t able to give me any medicine during for anything because they machine would just suck it right out and it wouldn’t help for too long so I had to wait till I was done to get anything.
The first week on the 4th floor was the worst. I went in on my period, so I was having horrible cramps on top of my kidney pains and headaches. They started off with Tylenol every 4 hours. Which didn’t do much. The next day I asked the doctor for something else, so then I got fiorcet, a headache medicine, again every four hours. It helped sometimes, but not always. My headaches at least, not my kidney back pain. Finally after a week they were able to give me a non narcotic muscle relaxer and a 50 mg tramadol. I was finally able to sleep. I went a good three days without sleep, tossing and turning, just hoping the pain would stop. During this week I turned 25. Having dialysis on my birthday.
The next week, I started to feel better. No pain, other than the headaches I would get after dialysis. My numbers would go down after the treatments, but would just go back up the next day. So I did all three that week. When i went into the hospital, my creatine levels were 8.5. Healthy limit is under a 1. By this time that Friday my numbers were at 4.3. Over the weekend they went down to 3.5. Finally. My numbers went down instead of back up. My kidney doctors told me that depending on how they were over the weekend would depend if I had to continue dialysis or not. Monday morning comes around and I woke up to a dialysis machine in my room. I lost hope. The dialysis nurse told me that since the storm was coming they were going to go ahead and do it just to be safe, and that I shouldn’t worry. That was my last treatment.
My kidneys started working again. Every day my numbered getting lower. My final test was a 24 hour urine collection to see if everything was okay. The next day I got my catheter out. Then the day after that I was sent back to BH. Then I was free on September 8th.
I went through 7 dialysis treatments at the age of 25. Sat in the hospital for three weeks. In the same room, unable to walk around because I was still baker acted. Poked with needles over 100 times. Heparin shots in my stomach 3 times a day to prevent blood clots and to help with dialysis, blood drawn every night to check numbers, Ivs while in icu. Failed attempts for another iv the first week because I was still so dehydrated that they couldn’t get it to stay in a vein. A central line in my neck. Two catheters in the right side of my neck. An iv in my left arm that ended up giving me a hematoma so bad they had to do an ultrasound on it to make sure I didn’t have any blood clots. It was miserable.
Good things came from all this misery. It was a major reality check for me. Being free, I’m waking up thankful again. Hopeful. Excited for my future, and ready to make changes and life a happy, healthy stable life. I took advantage of too many people. Not doing much of anything for myself. I realized I don’t want to die. I want to grow an flourish and use this as a learning lesson, and something else that I can say that I was strong enough to get passed. I am strong. I am hopeful. I am loved by so many. I don’t want to hold myself back from my full potential anymore.
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