From the Ashes to the Crown

After one failed attempt to kill myself I tried another. One morning before I left for school I tried to overdose. I woke up in the cubicle of the school toilets covered in my own vomit and my head buried so deep in the toilet bowl that it was cutting my air supply off at my throat. I was coughing and spewing up blood when I felt someone kick my leg as it was hanging out underneath the cubicle wall. There was an older man’s voice asking me if I was ok but I could not respond. All I could muster was a moan. My insides felt like a hundred feral rats were trying desperately to claw their way out of my body. I started to cry from the pain. I asked myself what I did to deserve this, how did I get here? Why me? It wasn’t long before the teachers had kicked in the door and carried me out to safety. They put me in a room with a couch and a bottle of water and didn’t let me out until I was better. I never got better. I just appeared better because one of my boys had snuck in and given me more drugs. That was my first taste of rock bottom.