trigger... duh

I have attempted three times, but I think I was only really serious and commited to the action once. All three times were initially triggered by the same thing. I realized my cutting had gotten out of control and God was not willing to guide me if I was going to just ignore Him. Thus, I tried to quit, but had nothing to replace it with. I felt (thought I knew at the time) that I would never be able to live without my blade. The first time I tried I od'd but forced myself to throw up everything immediatly after. 'Like God would be okay with attempted suicide, screw it, I might as well just keep cutting until it eventually kills me'. The second time I quit cutting was pretty much the same, except at that time I also had an extreme hatred towards my mother. She was an addict and although she was living at home, she was never there. She was either working or getting high and I couldn't understand how she could choose drugs over me. Was I really that worthless. (I now understand and try to have compassion, yes she is completely screwed up, although been better lately, but it wasn't without reason, she was shaped by her past and genetics and I don't know that I would've faired any better if I had been in her place. Top that off with a now better understanding of the power of addiction and how it has nothing to do with the worth of anything else, I don't blame her anymore, but its still hard, sorry tangent). Anyways, I wanted her and everyone else to know that my pain was directed towards her, so I stole her gun in the middle of the night and went into her car. I'd never shot a gun before so I honestly don't know if I even could use it, but I fell asleep there with the gun in hand and woke up freezing cold at around 3am, and went inside. The third attempt was a calculated carefully planned endeavor. Having come to the conclussion that I was never going to be able to be happy in life (with cutting had become nearly unbearable, all the lies, running out of skin, causing permanent damage, knowing it would hurt anyone who ever dared to love me. Without cutting, the constant panic, ocd, waking up ev ery morning knowing there was no relief ever in sight). I selectively chose different meds from mostly my mothers stash. I was and still am so scared that I will try and fail, but was also scared of being awake for the process. I chose varying amounts of different things, my goal being to fall asleep before everything else hit. Needless to say, it didn't work, well the first part did anyway. I did fall asleep, I hadn't planned on waking up puking my guts out though. Not pleasant. I was so thankful that no one in my family ever found out what happened. Right now, my life is pretty close to perfect, but I still don't feel happy, maybe a glimpse every now and then, but nothing is really wrong. There's nothing I would want to change, except how my brain feels about things. It's part of the reason I stay in therapy, I call it preventative maintenance. It helps keep me on track when things do go wrong and try to push me over, or when my brain decides to go on a particularly psychotic train of thought. I need someone I can be completely open with and can bounce thoughts off of for accuracy, logic, and reality. I still contemplate it a lot, but I try to focus on knowing that God has a purpose for me, and He loves me, and He wouldn't allow this pain for no reason, although I may never be the one to see the results. My hope is that when my purpose is complete He will take me home. I know it sounds kind of morbid, but the thought of being alive for a long time is completely overwhelming. I wake up knowing that my brain will never feel the pain of life is worth being able to live. I know it's hard for many to understand how I can have such assurance that there is a loving God and that Jesus came and died so we can have eternal life, if we are willing to accept it, where there will be no more pain and suffering, and we will be transformed and made perfect. But I do have faith in that, and like I said, my only hope lies in it, and what He did is worth my obedience and sacrifice (yes, I consider living to be a sacrifice). I hope this all made sense.