It was my addiction that led my poor mother to find me passed out on the bathroom floor. It was my addiction that led me to hospital room 309. It was my addiction that led me to have a stranger’s blood pulsing through my veins. It was my addiction that led me to finding the people who truly care. It was my addiction that led me to the best three minutes of my life.
Three minutes. Three minutes of silence. Three minutes of lungs that did not breathe and a heart that did not beat. I was dead, but I had never been so alive. Believe me when I tell you, that dying is the best thing that will ever happen to you. Don’t fear death. Embrace it. It’s like your life is just a dream, and death is just you waking up. And oh, what it felt like to wake up! Oh, what it felt like to feel. I could feel my gauze- wrapped wrists restrained to the bed. I could feel the needle in my arm, filling me with life. I could feel the eyes that carefully watched over me. I could feel the worry that permeated the room. It was a strange feeling to feel, but I embraced this new- found gift of mine. After years of being numb, it was a pleasant surprise to feel. And so, I awoke with a smile.
Now, for everyone else in the room, seeing someone restrained to the bed wake up with a smile, after what seemed to be a failed suicide attempt must have been a strange sight. I was a sad sight to begin with. My eyes had always been framed with signs of exhaustion. Waking up, the rest of my body screamed what my eyes had been trying to tell everyone. I was tired. Too tired to eat. Too tired to brush the curly hair that fell in front of my exhausted eyes. I was too tired to survive. And now as everyone could see, I was too tired to apply the correct pressure to keep my addiction from killing me.