The Final Cut

I've come along way since my DWI arrest. Those day, weeks and months were the worse of my life. I was staring down an abyss. I was so afraid. I cried. I prayed. I went to AA. I went to church. I couldn't work. I just couldn't cope.

I'm happy to say I'm passed all that. I'm going to live. I'm going back to work. I have the love and support of my friends and family. I will be okay.

When this all started I was at wits end. I didn't know how to cope or deal with any of this. The first place I went was to AA. That helped some but not much. I saw my shrink and told her what was happening. After I hired a lawyer, he sent me to a substance abuse doctor. This doctor recommended that I go to inpatient therapy. When I went for my evaluation to the rehab place they said I didn't need inpatient. The counselor said I needed intensive outpatient therapy (IOP). When I went to the IOP center, they reevaluated me again.

I bring the shrink, the substance abuse doctor and the other evaluations for one reason. They all asked similar questions in making their evaluations. My answers were all honest except to one question. "Have you ever had thoughts of suicide or attempted suicide?" I answered "no" to it. The reason I lied is cause they all have some legal obligation to report me to authorities in order that I get the appropriate help. I sat there and lied. Yes I thought about suicide. Yes I attempted suicide.

"Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings,
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down.
I held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it but just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut"
from the song The Final Cut by Pink Floyd

I admitted it to a few friends but some only took it as if I thought about it. I think I only told one person about how I tried it.

The thoughts were there. I thought about putting a rope around my neck and hanging myself. I thought about parking my car on the bridge I was arrested and jumping off. I thought about running my car into something at a high speed. I thought about putting a blade to my wrist and cutting.

Then one day I came close to doing it. I was in bed crying and alone with my thoughts. I tried to pray. I tried to sleep. I couldn't calm myself down. I didn't want to call anyone. I let my mind run with my thoughts. I saw no way out. I didn't want to deal with my problems anymore. I felt that everything overwhelmed me. I wanted out.

The desperation overcame me. I thought,"Fuck it." I didn't care anymore. I didn't care who or when they would find me. I just didn't feel it was worth living anymore. I jumped out of bed and I went to the kitchen. I opened a drawer and pulled out a large knife. Tears were falling down my eyes. I put the blade to my wrists. I hesitated. I pulled up my shirt and put the blade into my stomach. I felt the steel against my skin but I couldn't push. I put the blade again to my wrist. I tried to cut. I wanted to so bad. I put a scratch on my left wrist but I couldn't make it go deeper. I put the knife back into the drawer. I went to bed crying. I couldn't do it.

Days later I viewed myself as a coward. I was a coward for not killing myself. I admitted my attempt to my friend. I told Dee about it. I fucking cried like a baby. I cried hard. I told her how I felt like such a coward for not being able to do it. Despite all my feelings I just couldn't do it and I was weak and worthless for it. She told me just the opposite. She told me it was the coward's way out. It was the easy way out and that it wasn't the answer. I argued with her that I knew it wasn't the answer but I also felt ashamed that I couldn't do it.

That was my darkest hour. I actually wanted to die by my own hand. Then like the quote above: "I never had the nerve to make the final cut."

Things are going to be okay.