maliciousdraggy

[maliciousdraggy]

[SERIOUS] how did you feel after failed suicide attempt

Hear me out, I know this might sound like a troll post but please let me get my story out and I hope to get feedback from this.

I just got out of the VA hospital for a 5 day stay in the mental health ward. They were really good people and I can not say enough praise about them but I have to lead everyone up to the point on which they were able to help me.

Before the cause of my stay in the hospital I honestly thought that people who self harmed was just people looking for attention or that maybe had some kind of fetish. I do my best not to judge people based on just one insight I have of the person but to be honest I've only knew a few in my life, a total of two to be honest and from knowing them in the aspects that they showed to the world I deemed them "attention whores" and never thought about it much ever since.

Last week I tried to take my life. The reasons honestly doesn't matter it could be ptsd, general life related or just simple lack of sleep.

I had my plan together, wife was at work, only mother-in-law was home and upstairs, I placed my dogs in my room and I was going to go into the back yard with a glock 38 .45 acp. I called 911 and informed them that they would have a body to pick up at this address and where it would be located. The Operator tried the normal stuff such as think of your family and friends and how much you would be hurting them with some other stuff but I was half way listening to be honest because my goal was to bed dead and the cops take my body before my wife and step kids got home.

so I laid down in the backyard next to the pool and fire pit I had put in years back, my left arm laid in dog shit and I just groaned to my self "this isn't what I want to leave behind". I wiped off the dog shit the best I could so at least it wouldn't be obvious to the first person that found my body that I willingly/mistakenly laid it in. I hear rambles on my smart phone not sure what she was saying but I'm guessing she was going through a checklist and then I brought the pistol up to my head.

I took a big deep breath and well you know the outcome I couldn't pull the trigger. I a man that has spent literally years in Iraq being shot and bombed against could not pull the fucking trigger....

The amount I hatred I felt for myself and for life as a whole will never be done in that moment. "You had 1 fucking job and you couldn't do it" "you pile of shit, gutless little faggot that always cried out for a way out but when it came you didn't have the balls". Words honestly can not do justice to the emotions I felt at the time. I already give the 911 operator my info so I knew I only had limited time to finish what I started.

I did not have a back up plan when I started this because I honestly thought I could take the shot. my mind jumped to slitting my wrist in all the Hollywood cliches movies I've seen in the past. I ran into my kitchen. my heart is pounding because I know I'm on a timer, the cops are coming and I need to be dead before they get here but I need to die outside. I grabbed a hand full of knifes that was in the butcher block thingie not sure what its called but it held 8 of them and came out with 3. I started cutting my left wrist with the biggest which I thought would be the sharpest and it just tore the skin. "shit its dull" then I grabbed the next one and rub my thumb across its blade in a right to left motion. It was also dull as well as the third.

So here I am dog shit on 1/2 of my left arm a pistol with 1 round in it in front of me and 3 different kinds of knifes around me while cops are coming...

yea fuck that, I knew I had a sharp or at least what I thought was sharp leatherman type knife I had from a while back in my den. I ran in, grabbed it and went back to the spot I picked to die *not sure why I picked this spot it just seemed like a nice place to die but I digress*. I started slicing at my left wrist, the first time I have ever cut my self on purpose in my life and the knife was not as sharp as I thought it was so I kept slicing and it would dig in then jump to another spot repeatedly but at least it was sharper than knifes in the kitchen. The 911 operator is still on my smart phone and I cant hear a word she is saying but I do remember saying "there we go" when I first start seeing beads then what I thought was an artery of blood sprint forth my arm *14 1/2 inches according to the nice people at the va and just kept repeatedly slicing.

Now during this time I thought I was done for so I was just going for style points and just to be sure. So I kept slicing and wincing at the pain when the knife jumped to another spot over and over again but with all the blood it was really hard to see what was being done and I just kept repeating the motion over and over again until I heard someone from my back right say my name and to drop the weapon. I do remember telling the officer that I'm not done yet. He yells at me again to drop the weapon and at this point I figure that I would listen to him because I'm already dead right? I've got my left arm covered with blood that has been stabbed and torn and sliced over 20 times no way I'm making my way out of this. I throw the knife down a good 5 feet from me and place my hand above my head as I was instructed I remember blood hitting my bald spot as I did this and was like "yea, going to die in peace on a stretcher somewhere and not on grass with dog shit on it". The Officer ask if I have any other weapons, I tell him I have a pistol with 1 round on it in front me. he ask that I stand up and by no means lean towards the pistol *I have nothing but respect for cops I know they are like people and some fuck up and there are good and bad ones but I'm not the type of shitlord that tries to make things hard for them* so I do what I'm told. The officer comes in front of me with a tact vest of some sort mostlikey running interceptor body armor *that shit is a joke* and an ar15 type rifle not sure if it was a sigg but he had his kit fully ready.

The officer reaches for the pistol thats around 2 foot in front of where I was squatting on the deck. he takes the pistol and throws it to the side. He had sunglasses on but if I was him I sure as hell wouldnt of taken an eye off of me. he ask if I had anymore weapon I tell him no. He then tells me to stand up and turn my back towards him which I do. He then ask me to lift up my shirt which I'm guessing is to make sure I didn't have any hidden weapons on me and at this point another officer appears in front of me. I dont know when he got there or how but I didn't notice until it already happened.

The 2nd officer checked my waistband again for something that might be hidden and tells me to keep my arms up. at this point my left arm is covered in blood and its just dripping all over the stone decking. I'm waiting for the whole pass out and never wake up thingie to happen but since you've read this far you know that didn't happen. After both officers checked me they called in emts which got to work on my arm and in my mine I thought "haha faggots ya too late, too slow on the draw /muahahhaha I win".

The EMTs starts cleaning off the blood and for the first time I can honestly see the real damage I did and let me be everything but misunderstood here "I was fucking ferrous". My entire arm that was covered in blood and I thought I was done for was just a shit load of nicks and scratches. 20 or 30 times I carved with the knife it was just jumping from 1 point to another very few places did it have what I would even call a decent cut.

So after the EMTs clear me the 2nd officer is talking with me and me being the big bitch I am had been crying the entire time in hopes that the cutting would put and end of my life/suffering. The 2nd officer tried doing the whole "what about you friends and family" speech bullshit which before then I thought was just a trope so I told him I'm a selfish asshole and I just want this one thing.

we go back and forth not sure for how long, maybe 15 mins *I'm not the best judge of time* before I'm handcuffed and put in back of a squad car then moved to another one because its 1 guys launch break *this is true a fuck and in the moment I'm like yea ok let the guy get some food because everyone hates working on there lunch break* so I'm moved into the other car and we make the way to the largest VA hospital in my area. The reason we are going to the VA is because they have seen me before on thoughts of suicide but this was the first time I've taken action. *if your asking why a guy who had seen the doc about suicide stuff still have a weapon, its simple really. I locked it in a quick release safe that only my wife has/had the code to. it took me 5 mins with a flat head screw driver to open it so keep that in mind if you have a quick release safe because of kids* I get to the hospital which took around an hour and the entire time cop number two was talking to me. IMO he is a good guy, not he's a cop so he's a good guy but he honestly seemed to care about what was going on.

I'm in the va hospital, cop number 2 talks to another cop there and says I'm non combative would he like for me to stay in restrains or not. cop number 3 says nah take'm off. so there I am, pissed at the entire world and myself most of all in a lil room with glass doors with a small Hispanic nurse next to me and the 3rd officer keeping and eye on me in the distance.