June – July, 2013, I completely fell apart. At work, a new manager had started to do the schedule. I can remember the day I looked and saw that she had scheduled me for a double shift, but with 2-3 hours in between, I couldn’t drive yet, so my mom was bringing me to work and picking me up. I was surprised. We worked doubles, but weren’t usually scheduled for them. The idea came into my head that I could take a taxi to the state capitol and jump. The state capitol is slightly taller than the empire state building, and on the 27th floor at a height of 350ft, they have a viewing deck that wraps around the top of the building. And I could get there before they closed the tower. But I asked John about the schedule. He told me that I couldn’t just leave in the middle of the shifts. But after I came up with this plan, something major happened.

July 10, 2013. I texted my friend Susan and told her I wanted out. She texted me saying that I should tell my parents. Then she told me that if I didn’t tell my parents that she would. And that I had two days – no exceptions. (the two days ended the day before I was planning to leave) I managed to call her and talked to her in Spanish. She told me that I couldn’t put her in a position where she would be responsible if I did something. After I found out that I couldn’t have another day, I totally broke down and told her that I was planning on doing it Thursday. She said that I should tell them that right now, and that she would be calling back at 9:45, and that I’d better be talking to them, or already have told them, or she was going to. She told me to pray and ask him to help me. After she hung up, I started crying. I prayed several times in the next few minutes. Then the overwhelming desire to self-harm hit me. I prayed about that. My hand was balled up in a fist and I was trying to pound my leg, but my legs were squeezing together to stop my hand from hitting myself. It was like an inward struggle where part of me had to stop what the other part was doing. It was weird. I prayed yet again, and my hand slowly opened and relaxed. It hurt little bit because my fist had been so tightly clenched for several minutes. I was still crying. Mom was calling me, but I didn’t answer. I figured she would come in and see me crying, and that would be an opportunity for me to tell her.

My mom did come in and see me crying. She seemed very sympathetic. I started by telling her that I didn’t think I told the doctor enough. (he wouldn’t see me without my mom in the room, so I wouldn’t tell him anything) I told her that when I got depressed I wanted to die, and that I should have told him that, but that I was afraid he’d put me in the hospital so I didn’t say anything. I kinda wormed my way around telling her that I actually had a plan, and that I had a date to carry it out. Susan called back at 9:45. I answered the phone and told her that I was talking to my mom right now. She told me that she wanted to speak to one of my parents. So I told mom that Susan wanted to talk to her. She asked her if I talked to her, and she said yes, and the they hung up. I thought that was the end or it. I went down from a 60% to a 40%. Meaning the answer was no – I wasn’t going to do anything. I texted her “I love you” (which was taken the wrong way) Well, around 10:15, the phone rang again, It stopped after the first ring, so I thought that the person had stopped calling. It turns out that my Dad picked it up in the office. I went to the door to see who it was, and I could tell by the conversation that it was Susan. I got really worried, because I knew she would probably tell my dad that she knew I had a plan. She did. My dad talked to her and her husband a little bit too, for about a half an hour. They finally hung up. Immediately, my dad starts yelling at me to get in the living room. I go. He starts yelling at me why I told Susan. They were both very angry. At that moment, I went up to a 75%. I was doing everything I could to protect my plan. I didn’t want them to know about it because I wanted to do it;  didn’t want anyone stopping me. I knew that if they found out, they would make sure I didn’t do it, probably not letting me go to work that day. I told them I told Susan that I had decided in that moment where I was very depressed, and that once that moment ended everything was ok. I told them I didn’t have a plan, which was safe, because not one person knew what it was. I told them I said to Susan that I was just thinking about doing it that day, and didn’t actually have plans to do it. Somehow, I got through it without me having to tell them that I had a plan and what it was. Then my dad said something that really hurt me. He said, “you either straighten up or get out! I want you out!” (I know now that he said this in anger and frustration, not really meaning the words he said) I was thinking “I want out too; from everything.” I was still planning on doing it Thursday especially after their reaction. I couldn’t stop crying. I went to be bed late that night. I thought everything would look a little better in the morning.

My parents woke me up at 8. All the events of the night before hit me. My dad demanded that I get up. I got up, and then he demanded I go out to the kitchen. I went out and sat on the sofa in the living room. He started yelling at me again. I started yelling back, asking why he was doing this to me, why he kept making me feel this way. He went over to the sofa. I was crying, and shaking because I was scared of what he would do, and because I was hurting inside. He grabbed me, and started yelling “You’re going to sit and you’re going to eat”. He had grabbed my arms, and seemed to be trying to drag me to the table as I was screaming at him to let me go. He was yelling back at me “I won’t let go” over and over. He finally got me to the chair, and I felt like he sort of pushed me into it so I sat down rather hard. I was crying so hard I could hardly breathe. They set a huge bowl of cereal in from of me, and my dad stood across the table and loudly demanded me to eat. I couldn’t hardly breathe, let alone eat, so I didn’t eat right away. Then he made me stand up, hold my bowl and eat. I finally got him to let me sit down again. My legs already tired form fighting. I managed to finish almost all of it, even though I felt sick from crying. It wasn’t long afterwards that I had to get ready to go to work. I worked from 11 – 2:30. I couldn’t wait to get there, anything to get out of the house.

When I got to work, I told Josafina in Spanish what happened. I almost started crying right there. After the rush, the manager asked how I was doing, so I told him about what happened. I told him that I was still at a little over 60%. I told him that I was worried that if I went, I would be hesitant, and someone would see me and stop me. He told me that I should be hesitant. When I explained that my Thursday schedule allowed time for that, he said that he would call my mom if I just left work in between my two scheduled shifts. I convinced him to let me stay until 4:00 because I didn’t want to go back home. I called my mom to ask if it was okay, and she asked me if I was coming from him or me. She finally agreed to let me stay. About an hour before I would leave work, I got better. My mood flipped. I went down to a 30% I told the manager that I was down to thirty. He said that was awesome, and he liked my number system.

My dad showed up at work to pick me up at four. I went in and told the manager that my ride was here, and that I was a little scared. He said to just tell him that I felt good, that he thought I was doing good with my work; that that was something my dad would like to hear. When I got in the car with my dad, he asked me how work was, and I told him What John told me to tell him. It was like nothing had happened at all that morning, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that my eyes still burned from crying so much, I would have thought I’d imagined the whole thing. I dropped it, and they did too. I went out with my friend Wednesday night, and I told her what happened. I was so glad I never told her what my plan was. When my dad asked, she honestly responded that she had no idea. Nobody knows what it was. She wasn’t happy that he reacted the way he did, but her and her husband said I needed to communicate better with my parents so they can understand me better, and I can understand them better too. That night, I was at a 15%.

The next day, Thursday, the day I was originally going to do it, I was still doing ok. My mom said that her and my sister were coming for lunch, probably to make sure I didn’t do anything. The manager asked how I was, and I told him I was at a l5%. Another worker asked if he could take my night shift, from 4:30 to 9:00 and I agreed, because I was tired from staying up late the last couple nights, and I knew if I worked, I would be more tired, and I also had a riding lesson the next day, and that in itself is exhausting. I thought it might be better if I didn’t work. So, I called my mom, and I went home.

My mood went back again, I was scared that if I told my therapist everything that happened, she would put me it the hospital, and that’s the last place I wanted to be. We were leaving for vacation in a week or two. But even though I was really excited, I got really depressed at work again, and I wanted to die.

I had no idea how much pain I would go through in the next two months.