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.
10…9…8…
3…2…1…
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. π
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