I don’t even know how it started but I was having suicidal thoughts for the past two days. I even made plans to “finish” everything e.g. get my hard disk home (photos) and had thought about which was the best way to go (jumping is not coz just in case I didn’t die, my balls won’t survive the fall and my offspring-to-be will be thwarted).
I planned to use my cigarette break to get out of ICU and then grab a scalpel on my way out to slit my throat. I had also planned to have the backup option of getting a box cutter from the front desk (grab it if I have to) and slitting my wrists.
I had also considered (though not to a great extent) running over to the pharmacy and swallowing a bottle of pills (won’t work coz they’ll just pump my stomach and shove me with a huge medical bill and I’ll still be alive).
I stole a syringe from the ICU and a pair of big scissors I intended to stab my vital organs with. I called my dad telling him that I love him and told him to tell my mom that I said “Hello”. I also asked him to finish my business (hard disk) for me in not so many words. He said he’ll pray for me.
I tried to go to the toilet to lock myself in but the ICU nurse found me out. He asked to check my pants and he found the scissors and syringe. I was watched like a hawk after that. I looked around the entire place for sharp things and I finally found one…a fire extinguisher encased in pure, thick glass.
I looked at the glass and I told myself to smash it and get a large piece of broken glass to slit my wrists. I said I’ll count to ten and I’ll jump over and do it.
I jumped out of bed and smashed the thick glass with my fist. I could hear the ICU nurses running over and I knew I had to be quick. I pulled out a big piece of solid glass with my bare hands (got a lot of cuts on my palm coz of that) and slit my wrist.
It was too blunt. I had to stab it in.
“Mr. Poh! Don’t do this!“
I stopped in my tracks. I don’t know why but having your named called when you’re about to commit suicide just brings you back. I looked at her.
“This glass isn’t even sharp”, I said while halfheartedly slitting my wrists.
I knew I wasn’t going to kill myself then.
There was blood all over the place from the broken glass and my right arm which grazed through the thick glass and where it nearly passed through muscle.
The next few moments passed in a blur. One nurse held my hand to stem the bleeding (was bleeding like a pig) and another got gauze and another got the RMO (Resident Medical Officer) to come up to stitch me up.
I was manic at this point, cracking jokes and making small talk and said to put the broken glass on my bill (they didn’t). The RMO came in and started to suture me. I said I didn’t want any opiates and not even topical analgesics like lidocaine/lignocaine coz I quit drugs.
He said “This is cruel” while stitching me over and over. I didn’t even feel a thing. I told him I like physical pain but I have emotional/psychological pain.
He was impressed when I was stitched up. “Wow, you didn’t even move despite having no painkillers”.
I repeated my stance on physical vs. psychological pain.
I got bandaged on my wrist for superficial wounds as well as on my fist for various cuts and incisions from the broken glass.
It’s ironic that the most serious wound (the one that pieced through muscle) was the one sustained while punching through the glass with my bare hands.
I got transferred to Sarawak General Hospital and nearly to Kota Sentosa Psychiatric Hospital. Luckily, I answered all the right questions and was too sedated (they gave me a sedative, not a benzo coz I would have had tolerance and they knew) from something so I fell asleep and woke up in SGH.
They don’t allow you to smoke in SGH so I had to resort to smoking Nicorette Inhalers. I nearly wanted to kill myself again. 😉]]>