As I mentioned in my first post, my breaking point came in February 2018. This had been a very difficult year at school with the students. I had a student threaten to bring a gun to school, which was enough for me to call it quits right there. My classes had been particularly challenging as well. All of the stress had gotten to me and I just broke. I remember having told my husband about a week or so prior to this happening that I felt like I was going to break. I didn't know when, how, or what it would look like, I just knew that it was coming. My health had taken a hit too. I was in chronic pain, my back had begun to hurt and I'd had no luck in figuring out what was causing it. I had been dealing with plantar fasciitis  for nearly 10 months.

This disagreement with my husband sent me into a spiral. I began to panic and my mind was out of control with the feeling of helplessness. I couldn't see a way out of the pain, out of the stress, out of the situation that I was in. Hopelessness consumed me on the drive from the venue where we had been watching the comedian to our apartment. By the time that we reached home, I felt like I was having a complete outer body experience. I was no longer in control of my own actions. The only thing that I wanted was a release from the pain. A release from everything that was slowly killing me. I wanted to die. I wanted to take control of my life and kill myself. I knew that since my husband was home that my dog would be taken care of so now would be the best time to take my own life. How crazy is that? I knew that she would be taken care of and I no longer had to worry about her. My dog's well being was what I was most concerned about.

As we arrived home, my husband took the dog out for a walk. This was when I found a knife in the kitchen and began to slowly drag it across my wrists. Through tears and agony, all I could think of is how much relief I would finally have. My husband walked in and found me with a knife against my wrist. I can't remember all of the details of what happened that night though he obviously got the knife away from me. Being so dissociated I can't recall what was real and what was happening in my head. I do remember being so determined to take my life that I went to the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of pills dumped them in my hand and almost took them. Again, my husband walked in to find me doing this and knocked them out of my hands.  To this day I am more than grateful for the fact that my husband was home and stopped me.

The following day was difficult. After having gone through such a highly emotional night, trying to figure out what had actually happened and trying to convince my husband that it wasn't a fluke incident had all taken a toll on me. I realized that I needed to get help. You see, this was not the first time that suicide had crossed my mind. Remember how I mentioned that my story didn't just begin on that February evening, but had been a lifelong making? There was a time while in high school that I was also considering suicide and a few other times in my life that I'll talk about later. I went to work the following Monday and sought out the help of our schools social worker. It was about noon, my students were at lunch, and she came to visit me. It was at this point that she had identified that I was at risk (my husband being a truck driver and on the road, not having a support system, still feeling suicidal) and that I needed to go into a mental health program.

Ms. R, my school principal and vice principal all escorted me right in the middle of the day to a mental health facility. I was freaking out just a bit to say the least. What about my students? Who is going to take care of them? What will they think? I can't just leave! Or can I?  This is where the next chapter of my story begins, I entered Desert Parkway on an out patient basis. I was so thankful that I did not have to be an in patient!