can someone pleaseeee offer their opinion on this introduction to a memoir i wrote?
The attempt on my life, which triggered my confinement in the Psychiatric Hospital, occurred just four days after a preceding stab at suicide. Stab is figurative in this context; as the actual method involved 600 milligrams of Zoloft drowned with three shots of vodka.
The first incident that week ended anticlimactically – my talent for bullshitting proved totally responsible for my premature discharge from the hospital. I explained that the incident was a result of my impulsivity coupled with my reaction to “perceived social failures” – a term which completely encompasses the myriad of anxieties I had been experiencing. I feared rejection like the plague, I questioned whether those closest to me could even tolerate my existence, and I whole-heartedly believed everyone I came into contact with absolutely hated me. This includes cashiers, family members, best friends, teachers, bosses, etc. To operate constantly under this mindset, especially during my first year of college, proved incredibly detrimental to my social life. Even when I was socializing successfully, I felt isolated and detached. My lack of friends in a completely unfamiliar environment confirmed my belief that I was socially and personally inferior.
The reaction to my first hospitalization was the first epiphany for me. Many friends and family members reached out and appeared genuinely hurt and confused by my desire to die. Their reactions, however temporary, suggested I wasn’t the social pariah I had forced myself to believe I was. I used this new knowledge to justify confiding in an inordinately large number of friends and a professor.
The broadened support network failed to assist in ceasing the intense, immutable emotional pain I experienced. This led me to commit to a date that I would hang myself. I chose October First, purchased a rope, determined the proper location, and practiced forming a noose. I then selectively confided in what I remember as three close friends that I would soon be eliminating my own existence, thereby exerting one final positive impact on society.
Of course, they flipped out. But for a few days, it was kept confidential. The following events, oddly, occurred at exactly the same time.
I sat, legs crossed, glued to my seat in my Political Theory class. I mindlessly drummed my fingers on the tabletop, indicating an imminent anxiety attack. It was when I became conscious of the warning signs that my anxiety attack fully commenced. My arms began to shake and my heart was beating rapidly, its rhythm chaotically disagreeing with the shaking of my limbs and tapping of my fingers. My thoughts spiraled from displeasure with my current lifestyle, to absolute hopelessness for the future. I consoled myself with the thought that the pain, like my body, mind, and existence, was temporary. And the degree to which it was temporary was totally under my control.
thank you :) :)
- Anonymous8 years agoFavorite Answer
Good very good the description of everything down to the last detail it sounds as is ur there going throught the same thing especially at the panic attack, ur opening paragraph about suicide is a easy thing for people to latch on to seeing as if we would like to admit it or not we're human and the thought has cuaght our minds atleast once .The following paragraphs about ur socail life is something most readers will instantly relate to not only that but where the temporarily feelings of those round u came in it realy hit hard about what a person's life is worth or what will be left to remember u by or will it be just another tragic suicide .Back to the panic attack its a beatifual place to end it a chapter maybe or it could be a short story because it leaves us longing to know what happens and we want to know how or what another humans perspective is on death just to feel for the character as if u are them empowers people to think if it were them how they would deal with it /if u write more plz send me a link or something i'd love to find out what happensSource(s): Me