When I was 17 I was still a virgin and had never been in love. It was now that I met a much older, married man, who basically seduced young girls as a challenge. He paid me attention, romanced me, and in my naivety I fell for him totally and allowed him to be my first.
Quickly after he lost interest, and then when the affair came to light, he managed to convince everyone that he was the victim and I was some kind of harlot/ marriage wrecker. His wife added to this, (in spite of the fact he had done this to her many times before as I later found out), and before I knew it I was getting beaten up by the crowd of teenagers I hung out with, not to mention the fact his wife beat me up once too. It seemed strange so many people believed him, as at the time he was 35 and I was only 17-18 and had been a virgin when I met him. I also heard he had done the exact same thing to a young girl a year earlier, and essentially chewed her up and spat out the pieces.
My social life died a death, as by now I was barred from the hotel where he was lead singer in the band at his wife's request. I had few friends left, and yet all of those same friends were happy to talk to him.
Having dumped me, I was left feeling completely abandoned, and desperate to change his mind, I turned into what you would probably describe as a stalker, turning up at his work and even staking out his house. Whenever I saw him I made sure I was in full makeup and looking as sexy as I possibly could. By now I was at the stage of being grateful even if he agreed to sleep with me, (which he did on occasion), never mind leaving his wife for me. It didn't last long, and he basically wanted rid of me and was telling our mutual male friends they could have me now, as if I was some kind of old car or something.
I even tried avoiding him for 6 months, and then turning up out of the blue, which succeeded in as much as he slept with me again, but he also went on to dump me again, almost immediately.
Things got so bad I truly didn't want to carry on living, and I was only 18, (this situation had dragged on for well over a year). I remembered his wife had once told me that the best way to commit suicide and make sure it worked, was to take Paracetamol, as the liver would fail and the damage was irreversible. I took the decision to go out and buy a large bottle of these tablets, and one day, when I was on my own in my place of employment, I began to take the tablets until I had taken a total of 12. I would have taken more but for the fact there was no water left in the company kettle, (and we didn't have any water supply of our own within the building), and I guess the second reason, if I am honest, is that deep down I really wanted to live, and this was just a cry for help.
At the end of my working day I headed home feeling very sleepy and sick. For the following 12 hours I spent most of my time retching down the toilet, and feeling completely out of it. Of course my Mother was really worried, so I finally told her why I was being so ill. She was horrified, and of course the fury she already had towards this man was majorly intensified.

Once I recovered I felt much better, and I guess it could have been alot more serious if I had taken more than the 12 tablets I did. As it was I had been told that anything over 8 tablets was likely to cause damage to the liver, so quite possibly I did do some damage, but thankfully I am still here to tell the tale.
Shortly after, I realised the only way to mend my broken heart was to leave the island of Guernsey and head for pastures new, i.e. the UK mainland. I left on December 10th 1988, and I rapidly underwent a dramatic recovery from my depression. Suddenly I found I was having fun again and I didn't need to worry about being beaten up whenever I went out of the house. I felt like a new person, with a life to lead, and believe me I was very grateful my suicide attempt hadn't been successful.
For the next 13 years or so I had some pretty tough times in the UK, three years in an abusive violent relationship where the guy went off and married his ex-girlfriend whilst still engaged to me, even losing my Husband to Bowel/Colon Cancer, but I survived them all, in spite of contemplating suicide a number of times throughout those difficult years. Each time I thought I couldn't sink any lower, or life could only get better, something seemed to happen that tested my resolve to stay alive, and I did.
I even made the worst mistake of getting involved with the original man who had caused my first suicide attempt, again, over 13 years later, and yet again he proved to be a nightmare after he persuaded me to move to Tenerife with him. Two and a half years of hell later, we split, and ultimately we both ended back in Guernsey separately from each other, at which point he began telling everyone, including his new Wife, what a psycho I had been to live with. Strange when you consider he was now on his fourth marriage, yet I had still only had one marriage, and that only ended because my Husband had died from the Cancer.
Frustratingly many people seemed to believe his version of events, and this did drag me down emotionally again, as it was largely my word against his, although by now his new Wife no doubt has a pretty good idea of what type of person she has married, (3 years later), especially as she was a decent person and her and I did end up getting on very well once she saw I was no threat to her.

There are no truly good reasons to commit suicide, and no matter how bad things seem, they do get better. I am now happily married to my second Husband, I have three cats, a fishing lake, and a fantastic relationship with my Mum and Step Dad, all in all life is rosy, and I could so easily have been dead now and missed out on all of this.
If you did choose to commit suicide, how would you do it. Surely there is no good way to do it, and it is always avoidable.
Consider that slashing your wrists would not only be painful, but is a really hard thing to do, and if you do survive you will no doubt be scarred for life.
Taking an overdose of something like Paracetamol is a horrendous and very painful death.
Jumping off a building or cliff has got to be a really nasty way to die, and one that will take at least several seconds of you probably wishing you hadn't made the decision to jump, but it is now too late.
Shooting yourself is a violent death, and if you get it wrong you could end up being a vegetable for life.
Throwing yourself under a train or a vehicle, is not only unfair on the poor person driving the vehicle involved who has to live with this horror for the rest of their life, but is surely a very unpleasant way to die by any stretch of the imagination.
Drowning yourself, just imagine the panic of not being able to breathe and having to try and fight your way to the surface. Once you regret it, it is too late, but you can't go back.
Hanging yourself is also a nasty way to die. Either you break your neck, (well at least that is quick), or you suffocate to death struggling to get air and wishing your hadn't kicked that chair way which now seems so far out of reach. Imagine the horror of the poor relative or friend who has to find you like this later!
Think about your family, what will they suffer and will they blame themselves for not having seen the signs coming? Your actions could wreck their lives too, and is that what you want for them?
My Mother had already lost both her Brothers, her Mother, her Husband and our Cousin within the previous two years. Can you begin to put yourself in her position if she had lost a daughter as well? I doubt she would have survived it on top of everything else.
Nine times out of ten, an attempted suicide is a cry for help, but not everyone gets it right, and all too often the end result is that you are dead anyway, even if that was not your intention deep down. You leave family and friends bereft and suffering, frequently with many unanswered questions, and all for what, the fact you couldn't ride through the problems and survive to come out of the other side!
You would be amazed at what you can live through and come out of the other side, even if it doesn't seem so at the time. You will be a stronger person for it, and may well go on to counsel others, (be it friends or professionally) who feel much the same as you once did. There is always light at the end of the tunnel, and no matter how low you feel, the only way is up.
You can survive school bullying, I did, and although I was incredibly miserable at the time, I am still here to tell the story. Take self-defence classes, you will be able to take control of your life back and gain confidence. Once the bullies realise you are capable of defending youself and hurting them, they will move on to easier victims. Be there for those new victims, and advise them of how to solve this problem as you have done. Most of all do not be afraid to tell a teacher, as this is what the bullies dread most, (hence the threats of what will happen to you if you do), and when I found the courage to do this my problems instantly ceased.
Take it from someone who has been there, life is for living, and in spite of all it has to throw at you, there will be many times ahead of you that make it worth having persevered through the difficult and painful times.
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