I think from the title of this article that it should not be a surprise that this post is a possible trigger issue for some of you. It is very frank and quite graphic at times. If this is something that will both you, please turn back now.
The year of darkness had already seen two major suicide attempts and a few smaller ones that were more laughable than serious in nature. For example, tying a plastic bag around my head seemed like a plausible idea until panic set in and I simply tore through the plastic to get air. I was not very good at preventable methods. If I wanted to die, and I really did because I couldn’t deal with the dysphoria any more. I needed to come up with something big, yet hopefully painless. I felt like the sleeping pill methodology was close but lacked the final punch it needed. Perhaps I could modify my method to ensure I was not going to walk away. I came up with a plan and it seemed like it was fool proof.
I had the sleeping pills, three bottles worth, and I had moved out of a roommate situation so I could allow the attempt to run its course. I was quite literally all prepared to succeed and I just needed that extra punch which I picked up at the hardware store. I picked up a box of rat poison which was going to be the final ingredient to push me over the edge. It was finally time to die and I was happy in a numb sort of way about it. I just had to wait for Friday as I had that day off and I could be undisturbed with what I was going to do.
The biggest issue would be the delivery system, how was I going to get the rat poison into my stomach. I needed a lot to do the trick and I would have to dissolve it in chocolate milk as best I could. I was not looking forward to that part of the plan. I began though with the sleeping pills as I was becoming a pro at that part. This time I did not cry as I took them because I was suppressing everything to help me maintain focus. I measured out two cups of rat poison and another cup and a half of chocolate milk. It did not dissolve the way I had hoped.
Getting the rat poison milk shake down was one of the most disgusting and hardest things I have ever done. I had a lot of trouble and almost thew up multiple times but with perseverance I managed to get it all down. I had saved a little bit of the chocolate milk to wash down the last remnants of the disgusting sludge. I then laid down on my bed as I could already feel the pills taking effect. My heart was palpitating and the heaviness had returned. It was time to die. It was time to finally be free from the dysphoria. I lost consciousness.
I do not know how many hours had passed but it was night and my insides were on fire. I could feel the first wave of vomit rising. I had an an empty widemouth bottle near the bed, I grabbed it and threw up into it. The vomit was jet black and I could smell what I wold later come to know as iron. It was blood. It kept coming over and over and the bottle became very full with it. It was awful and the pain was unbearable as this continued through the night. The bottle could hold close to 3/4 gallons and I filled it. Luckily, I passed out after a while and the next memory was waking in the morning and realizing I had failed.
I was in shock and yet I was able to pull myself up and head into the shower. I still felt worse than I have ever felt but I had to go on. I cleaned myself up and walked to work, it took me about an hour and it was snowing. I cried until the tears dried up as I realized there was no escape from the fact that I was a girl and I realized that I had no choice but to transition. My life was going to get really difficult, or so I thought. It turns out that transitioning made everything right for the first time and made it easy to shut the door on the year of darkness for good.
If you are transgender and are struggling with issues of depression or suicidal thoughts, there is immediate help available via the Trans Lifeline. I have included the numbers below for the United States and Canada.