The Beginning of My Life


February 13, 2009 My soul was bleeding so much that night, and in a moment of weakness, I gave up. I just kept taking pills until all the bottles were empty. My suicide note was recorded on video on my web camera. Caylee’s cruel words rang loudly in my head, terrorizing me, haunting me. You want to kill yourself? Kill yourself! All you want is attention! Pua texted me Ecclesiastes 3, but not even the biblical verse that once saved my life was enough to stop me. I turned off  my cell phone and hid it. I didn’t want to be tempted to call 911. My friend and roommate, Yvonne, was out having fun. When she came home, she didn’t realize what I had done. She found me on the bed, my body stiff . I couldn’t speak. I was in and out of consciousness. I remember some of what happened, but not all of it. I tried to suff ocate myself with the pillow. Yvonne grabbed it off  my face. I remember hearing her snoring loudly at the edge of the bed and feeling excruciating pain all over my body before I was fi nally unconscious. I overdosed at midnight, and Yvonne didn’t realize the severity of what was happening until 7:00 a.m. From what she’s told me, I fell off  the bed and started screaming. My body was quivering in a fetal position. Barely able to utter words, I screamed, “Call

911!” It felt like an eternity before the paramedics arrived. What happened after that is a vague memory. I remember the sirens. I felt my stomach being pumped, and when I awoke, I was delusional. I was plugged into a heart monitor, with tubes in my nose, and I felt dreadful pain all over body. My wrists and ankles were strapped down in tight cuff s. I tried to pull them out, but only ended up cutting and scarring myself. Finally, the nurse walked in and said, “I will take you off  the restraints if you promise to stop screaming and don’t try to get off  the bed. You are very weak.” I was at Kaiser Hospital for three days under observation. I had damaged my heart and the muscles in my body. Not even Vicodin and morphine could take the pain away. Th e physical pain made me realized that I did not want to die that way. I experienced a sea of mixed emotions, and I felt miserable. At fi rst, I was devastated by yet another unsuccessful suicide attempt, but as the days progressed, I pondered the life events that had led me to the night that I felt hopeless and gave up. I realized that hope was never lost in the dust of my troubled life. Hope is eternal. Hope comes from the soul. Hope comes from God. Hope comes from all those who love me. Hope came when I least expected it. I had hit rock bottom after losing everything. My girlfriend was battling lung cancer and was tired of my suicidal depression. She said I was bringing her down, and she didn’t know if she had two months or two years to live. She said that everything about me was depressing, and she wanted to be surrounded by positive things. I loved her with all my heart and soul. I even proposed to her. She gave me the world and saved my life. She saved me from giving into alcoholism and saved me fi nancially. She paid for my bankruptcy lawyer after my manic shopping sprees caused me to go bankrupt. She was my world and knowing that she could be dying made me even more suicidal. I was going to crisis

counseling at the Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center. I had a sick twisted idea that if she died, I would kill myself, and we would be together in heaven forever. She had always saved my life, and now she was giving up on us. I was broken. When we broke up, I felt like everything was over. I was at the lowest point of my life. I impulsively quit my job and stayed on state disability until my check was cut. I collected recyclables to make ends meet. I couldn’t aff ord to buy food or milk, so I put coff ee in my cereal. I lived penny to penny. I bought my groceries at the 99 Cents Only Store. Sometimes I didn’t have money for food, and my mom saved me from starvation by giving me boxes of macaroni and cheese or canned food. I was living in the depths of poverty. One day I woke up drowsy and over medicated. I had to rush to my 8:00 a.m. appointment at the Department of Public Social Services. I needed to apply for general relief and food stamps. Well, I fell asleep behind the wheel and had a horrible, traumatizing car accident that was my fault. It was a three-car collision. Th e lady I rear-ended had an asthma attack, and the paramedics took her to the hospital. Th e crash was so intense that the lady rear-ended another car. A little girl was in the car crying. I could’ve killed someone. I didn’t have car insurance, and the bodily injury hospital bills cost me over $7,000. I’m still making payments to this day. I could no longer aff ord my studio apartment and was on the verge of homelessness. Luckily, I had a wonderful lesbian friend, Yvonne, who I love like a sister, and she welcomed me into her townhouse. We shared a bed, and she watched me suff er. Everyone watched me suff er. I know I traumatized Yvonne when I attempted suicide in her home, and she had to save my life. My life was a miracle. Every time I tried to end it, somebody saved me. I was tired of hurting those around me and myself
over and over. I felt like a hamster spinning on a wheel and going absolutely nowhere rapidly. And so I decided to stop that cycle and fi ght—for my life, for my loved ones, and to live and embrace life to the fullest. I decided to end my self-destructive behavior and just live, at last. I would live to survive and to move forward. I would not let my mental illness destroy my life. I thought to myself, damn it, Mari, just love yourself, and love your life! So many people love you. Why can’t you just love yourself! Th e day I survived suicide was the day I decided to love myself just a little bit more. I suddenly had a broad awakening. I had taken my life and everyone in it for granted for twenty-nine years. Almost losing my life made me fi nally appreciate those around me—my mother, my family, my friends. It was now my time to appreciate life, loved ones, and myself. It was my time to be reborn and leave the pain of my past in the past, get out of the dirt, and climb out of depravity. It was my time to love myself enough to want to live one more day, one more week, one more month, one more year, one more lifetime. I started living day-to-day and as the days, weeks, and years progressed, my sorrow was transformed into abundant happiness, and that was only the beginning of my beautiful life.

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