You know what's the most hard part about committing suicide? It's not dying but surviving. I was immediately admitted that night and after a few check up and some medicines I was asked to go to bed. I was texting K, my guy friend who had always supported me and made me feel understood. He was calm and patient so I felt really comfortable with him. Sometimes we would talk for hours on call and he was the only person I could call when I couldn't sleep at night. He said that he heard about what had happened to me through A(one of my few close friends left). I told him that A was saying the truth and he bombarded me with stuffs like I told you not to do it and that he felt really guilty because he felt like he couldn't do anything for me.
I calmed him down saying that it wasn't his fault. He didn't listen at first but eventually I made him shut up. I think the medicine they gave me was to put me to sleep. I told him that I was sleepy and he said okay and that he was one call away if I wanted someone to talk to. I fell asleep and the next day when I woke up, I was still sad and my dad and sister's presence didn't make it any better. I didn't move a single inch and lay there. At afternoon, the doctors asked me to come for a meeting. I reluctantly followed them and when I was walking, a random girl started resting her head on my back and walking with me. I was scared so the doctor's chased her away. She was mentally unstable and didn't have a clue about what she was doing at least that's what I heard from from others. Well who was I to judge anyway when I wasn't in the right state too.
The doctors asked me multiple questions and I answered them all honestly. After a while they let me go and I left and went back to sleeping. There was a sister that I was sharing my room with and she had depression. She told me that everything was going to be alright. She told me that she was my best friend now and started crying saying that at least I had a dad and her daughter doesn't. Oh really? Try having an absent dad and then you'll know. I spent most of my days crying, thinking why I was still alive and I should've just died. I refused to eat anything and kept on weeping. Everyone in the ward were worried for me and kept on forcing me to eat. Tried convincing me that I was going to be alright and if I start eating they would let me go.
I was not a kid and even if I was, I would still not fall for that bullshit. I'm not that dumb but my dad was so sad at that time and the guilt ate me from inside. So, I pretended to be dumb and agreed to their suggestions. I ate and tried talking with others which brought relief to a lot of people. It's funny how the relief that should come on my loved ones faces came on other people's faces that I barely knew. The hugs I received was not from my family but from others. The kind words and actions was offered to me by others and not from my family. My elder sister had came back from college due to some illness and my dad said that she didn't wanted to see my face let alone talk to me. I was heartbroken but I still dialed her number in the hopes that she would pick it up. At the time I was even desperate for her scoldings but she had blocked my number. That saddened me alot but I guess that was my punishment.
I was eating my dinner when that girl came inside my room and I don't know why but I was really afraid of her. She sat next to me and said that I was her best friend. I just nodded my head, quickly ate my food and ran to the toilet. When I came back everything was a mess and the security looked really angry. When I asked my dad what was wrong he said that the mentally unstable girl and my roommate were fighting because my roommate's daughter was afraid of that girl so, the two of them fought. That's one thing to note. The next day that same girl came in my room and asked me for some milk when I said that it was finished. She started saying that I was not kind like my dad, that I was really mean and a burden to him; that I was a witch. That made me really angry and just when I was about to say something to her, her mother took her away. No wonder they caged her for a year. Girl had no stability and neither did she have basic manners; that was what I thought to myself that day.
I was really offended because people kept on taking side of my family without knowing the whole truth. Just because they act kind infront of you doesn't mean they're genuine people. They have two faces; one for the world and one for me. No matter how hard they pretend to be good people infront of others, they were still mean to me. So mean to the point that I took this drastic step to end myself. They are a bunch of hypocrites and I wanted to yell that at the top of my lungs but who would listen to a girl who attempted suicide. Yes, I won't deny the fact that they raised me but the way they raised me was no better than slavery. Deep down I knew that I never really considered them as my family. We were a bunch of random people joined together by societal norms that family stick together.