The night before last some nasty junkie who lives across the street and has bullied me incessantly along with his father from the day I moved in, kicked my door off its hinges and walked in with two other blokes holding a machete.
I now have a front door that does not lock. The front door that does not even close. The police came and basically blamed me they said things like “do you owe him money”, “there must be something going on here”. and looked at me with disgust when I said “no I am just a vulnerable woman who they have targeted from the day I moved in”. The police literally sighed and rolled their eyes when I said I wanted to go ahead and make a statement. I quickly decided against it when I had one of the officers in my hallway say “she’ll get some consequences for this one if she goes ahead with it”. So I didn’t make a statement. Instead, I took a month’s worth of my medication all in one go. I tried to overdose and kill myself. I think I’ve said before that my friend has some weird sixth sense; because she turned up randomly and found me sprawled out, grey faced with my lips completely blue.
I don’t know how she bought me round. I think it was by making me puke up. Because the next day I woke up to find a pile of clothes and bedding all covered in bile and undigested tablets!
I woke up so, SO FURIOUS that I was alive. I went skitz at her- screaming and shouting, calling her all the names under the sun. Because I know what it feels like to be so utterly suicidal, my feelings on the matter are very different to the majority of people who all believe the right thing to do is rescue that person. I believe the right thing to do is let them do what they want. I think there is a difference between self harm and suicide attempts. If somebody is self harming; then that person needs rescuing. But if someone is going to the extremes of trying to take their life; they can’t be rescued.
I know I can’t.