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One of the
questions I get asked over and over again is, “Lisa, how did you do it?
How did you get up in the morning and continue on?” To be honest there
were days, seventeen years ago, when I struggled to do just that.
In 1994 I
was a single Mom with three children living on welfare in a town with a
population of 100 people. I was hairdressing out of my home and someone
reported me to welfare so any extra money I had was now gone. My
ex-husband paid me $125 per month child support and that was deducted
from my welfare cheque. I couldn’t afford to put my children in swimming
lessons or hockey or anything at all. I had very little to do with my
family because of the abuse and only had one friend who lived close by
but she had a life and couldn’t babysit me. I am so grateful it was
summer time and my children were visiting relatives off and on on their
dad’s side of the family.
I had no
energy, no drive, didn’t eat very much and had a hard time focusing on
anything. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. I had my
suicide planned. There was a highway outside of Alida, SK that had a
bridge on it. At the bottom of the bridge was a ravine full of rocks.
All I had to do was lose control of my car and go flying over the edge
and that would be it.
The kids
would still get my life insurance money because it would have been ruled
an accident. All I had to do was figure out which day I was going to do
this. It had to be at night so no one would find me until the next
morning…just in case I did live. That would give me amply time to die
from my injuries.
The day
finally arrived. All I had to do was one haircut and wait until
night-time to do the deed. My haircut was at 10am and for the life of me
I couldn’t get out of bed to do it. My client was my next door neighbor
and a really nice older lady. She knocked and I covered my head. An hour
later I finally answered the phone and rescheduled for noon. At noon I
was still in bed, she knocked again, phoned again and I rescheduled for
1pm. I finally did the haircut and apologized over and over again and
told her I wasn’t feeling well.
After she
left I curled up on my bed and went back to sleep. I felt useless, like
I couldn’t do anything right. My life wasn’t supposed to be this way. I
wasn’t supposed to be a single mom I was supposed to be happily married
with a great husband who had an awesome job. This wasn’t the life I was
supposed to have. And what about my kids? They were welfare kids who had
nothing. Sure they had me but I wasn’t much use to them. I fed them,
bathed them, loved them and slept the rest of my life away. I cried all
the time and upset them because they thought it was their fault I was
crying.
I couldn’t
turn to God for help because he didn’t help me when I was being abused.
Why would he help me now? And I had already been kicked out of the
Catholic Church because I was divorced. My life was a mess and I
couldn’t see any way out of it.
For
whatever reason I woke up at 3pm and picked up the phone. I called my
doctors office and the receptionist told me I would have to wait two
weeks before I could get an appointment. I started crying and couldn’t
even answer her questions anymore. She asked me if I was ok and I said
no. She asked me if I was thinking of suicide and I started convulsing
crying so hard I couldn’t stop. She told me she could book me in for 4pm
that afternoon and asked me if I had anyone who could drive me. I told
her I didn’t but I would do my best to drive myself in. I could have
called my sister, but we hadn’t really spoken much since my separation.
My friend was on vacation so it was up to me to make it to the
appointment.
I knew if
I laid down again I would sleep right through the appointment so I had a
shower, sat down at my kitchen table and lit a cigarette. I had a
choice: go to the doctor and chances are he would put me in the loony
bin because anybody who thought like this had to be crazy; people just
didn’t think like this. Or miss the appointment and wait till nightfall
to carry out my plan. I decided to see the doctor and hear what he had
to say. I figured if I didn’t like what he had to say I could go home as
if nothing had changed.
I broke
down into crying fits in the waiting room and in his office. So much for
the composure I was sure I had. After an hour conversation, mainly him
asking questions and me breaking into crying fits I finally admitted I
needed help. I figured he would just write me a prescription and send me
home but I was wrong. I was admitted to the hospital and placed on
suicide watch. I’m not sure why they were worried about me escaping
because I was so heavily medicated and exhausted I didn’t do anything
except sleep for the first three days. Finally on day 4 I started
talking about my life and slowly began to come out of the depression. It
was called a nervous breakdown and for the first time in my life I
realized I suffered from depression. After a year of medication I felt
much better and quit taking it.
In 1996 I
attempted suicide again. After my nervous breakdown I gave up custody of
my children of my own free will. I saw myself as an unfit parent and
knew I couldn’t look after three children by myself. Mentally, I just
wasn’t capable. And it killed me not having them with me. At least when
I was on the medication it dulled the pain. Without it I felt like my
heart had been ripped out and stomped on repeatedly. My ex husband was a
real jackass and he’d make me drive four hours to pick up the children
or decide last minute he wouldn’t let me see them. I’d talk to the
children on the phone and they’d start crying then I’d start crying and
my life started falling apart again.
One night
I took a bottle of ephedrine, which is basically caffeine pills. They
make your heart speed up and eventually cause a heart attack. I didn’t
have life insurance anymore, the kids were living with their dad, and it
didn’t matter if I died due to suicide or not. I swallowed the pills
with a bunch of vodka and waited. The phone rang and I was chatting
with a friend and I must have passed out. I remember seeing my brother,
who had committed suicide a few months before, and reaching out to him.
The next thing I knew I was leaning over the toilet with someone
sticking my finger down my throat. I had passed out during the phone
conversation and my friend knew something was wrong with me so came over
right away. Back on medication I went and this time I started
counseling.
After
talking about my feelings regarding my brother’s suicide I finally
realized there was no way on earth I would ever put my children through
that. I haven’t had a suicidal thought since.
I know
many people think/say people attempt suicide for attention and I
honestly believe in some situations they do, or they threaten to so
people won’t leave them. In my situation I wasn’t looking for attention
from anyone. I wanted out and it was the only way I could see to do
that. I also know without a doubt it wasn’t my time to die either.
Divine intervention stepped in and I believe it’s so I can be here right
now and tell you that I survived, that you are not alone and you can get
help.
© copyright Lisa M. Sobry 2011. No
part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever
without written permission, from the author, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. |