My first attempt. I had been drinking excessively, and realized there was no escape from the hell awaiting me at home. I grabbed a corkscrew/knife combo from the bar I was at, left the bar and took a cab (this was in NYC) to grab my things from the hotel I'd been staying at to celebrate my 30th birthday. Once I had my bags, I walked towards the Hudson river, originally thinking I'd make it to the George Washington bridge and then jump. But then I figured I didn't have enough time, as friends were already looking for me. Instead, I found a parking lot in midtown, where a bunch of 18 wheeler trucks were parked for the holiday weekend (this was Memorial Day weekend). I crawled under one of the trucks, laid myself down, stabbed myself and consumed an entire bottle of Naproxen. I put my headphones in, put some music on, and I passed out shortly after. I wasn't found till about a day later; police were looking for me, they couldn't find my location from my phone as I was between city blocks and under a truck which I guess they didn't suspect I'd be. I woke up to flashlights from the police, I could barely see and had pissed myself, vomited and almost was successful as I was close to hypothermia. It wasn't a good plan, it was made on impulse again, because I wanted to die rather than go home to face my husband and problems we were having. It was a close call; the first thought I remember having when I woke up was of disappointment to be here still. They took me to the the hospital, all that, it helped nothing and eventually I attempted again about a year or so later.
I'm planning now, with much research and more knowledge and determination, to end my life by the end of May. I had been thinking of the night night method but ultimately I'm going to hang myself. I live on my own now, have the privacy and ability to complete it uninterrupted.
The similarities of my first attempt and my upcoming and hopefully final attempt, are the feelings of strong determination. I want to end my life, I am certain of it. These next few weeks will be a game of playing it off like I'm trying to recover, to appease my therapist and psychiatrist. I have a good amount of Klonopin, which I plan to take when the time comes.
I'm 35, and I'm done trying. I realize it more and more each day. Night time is when I feel most comfortable, the darkness is soothing to me, and sleep...when I can sleep, is so precious. All I want is peace and an end to this life. It's coming. These next few weeks will hopefully go by quickly enough, and I hope to be gone by my 36th birthday.