This was not a suicide attempt. This was the precursor. This was the consideration. I should’ve called a helpline. Or texted. Or called my psychiatrist. I should’ve done something to help me recover.
Getting ready to transition out of high school, I am learning much about myself, what makes me happy and most notably about how I undercut myself.
As soon as the lights turned down after intermission, my life truly began. Normally, screaming bothers me, but not that night. The screams made me feel alive and made me scream, too.