**WARNING** This post talks about a past suicide attempt. If this is a trigger for you, please do not move forward.
I am a survivor of childhood trauma. I am not prepared to openly talk about that trauma yet. I’ll just say that it left me with terrible nightmares and PTSD. I managed to survive through my elementary years. I think that is credited to the resilience of youth. However, things started becoming more difficult as I grew older. Specifically, once I became about 14 years old and started high school.
I met a boy named Aleksei. He was four years older than me. I was a freshman in high school. He was a freshman in college. We decided we would be “just friends.” And, we were. The best of friends. I was clinging on to life. Barely. The only thing keeping me afloat was Aleksei. I was drowning in childhood nightmares. Aleksei would sneak me out of my bedroom at night and drive me around until I fell asleep and sneak me back into my bed so I could sleep.
It was summer when I told him why I had nightmares. He had to leave to the Ukraine to visit his family. I knew he was worried and didn’t want to leave me alone. I remembered how foggy things were while he was gone. How disassociated I was with things. He would call me and on one particular call, I told him “goodbye.” I never said “goodbye.” Always “talk to you later, ” or “see ya!” He sensed something was wrong. On instinct alone, he booked a flight back home immediately.
Meanwhile, I started cleaning my room and making preparations. It was a day and a half later, he called me. I kind of brushed him off and told him I was too tired to talk and hung up on him. He lived 20 minutes away from me. In the span of 20 minutes, I made sure my room was clean, and made sure the kitchen was clean. I filled my bathtub up with hot water. I submerged myself in it fully clothed and laid there for awhile. People often ask what it feels like. It was a peaceful decision. I felt at peace. Like everything had resolved itself.
Aleksei knew where we kept the spare key. I didn’t hear him open the front door. I didn’t hear him open the door to my room. I didn’t hear him open the door to my bathroom. He was so fast, I didn’t see him. He tried to take the razor from my arm, but I was able to slice it. I went for a second time, but he was able to struggle with me to mitigate serious damage. I was left with two superficial cuts thanks to his efforts.
There was blood everywhere. He flung the razor away and immediately pulled me out of the water and into his lap in the middle of the bathroom floor. I could feel his body vibrating with adrenaline.
He got me the help that I needed.
There are two prominent scars on my right arm and they remind me of my star-crossed lover and how he saved my life.
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