The happiest night was simultaneously the worst. A rough day ending with a text at exactly 11:59 p.m. saying my cousin, my closest friend, was in the hospital with the love of his life about to have their first child. But the happiness turned straight to a face full of snot and tears.

He had the love of his life. He had his daughter on the way. He had the start of a family at his fingertips. Yet here I was alone, unable to sleep like most nights, and being consumed by a mental fog slowly spreading across my entire body.

Mentally and physically drained from a week that still wasn’t over. I couldn’t imagine myself with someone, much less a family. Everything I had once wanted seemed so unachievable. I would do nothing with my life. I would be nothing.

My first thought: the pills. I had more, I had exactly 35 sitting in a bottle. A bottle that had sat in my backpack and had gone to every class with me since October.

My second thought: the bottle. The bottle in the freezer sat there, waiting for someone to drink out of it. I hadn't mixed the substances before so this time my odds of succeeding would be that much higher. Granted, last time, I had called someone and the problem was solved in the ER with no fight left to give.

----

It took 4 minutes for my thoughts to take a complete 180 and send me spiraling out of absolutely nowhere.

That's the scary thing about mental illness, it's consuming. I sit here writing this not but 45 minutes after I paced my room like I had months before but this time, it was different.

I knew if I wanted to do it, I could. I knew not to call anyone.

I knew how many milligrams would knock me out and I knew how many would knock me out indefinitely. I knew texting my mom that I loved her in the middle of the night would probably send her straight to panic when she woke up. I knew that writing a note would make me stop crying, consumed by absolute numbness at that point.

Things I wish I didn’t know.

This is a side of mental illness that does not get seen or portrayed. This is the side of mental illness that serves as the final struggle, one many do not get to share and one that many would rather keep hidden for all time to come.

It's unsettling, isn't it? To read this.

To go through the thought process even if you didn't have the emotions accompanied with it. You don’t have to see it unfold or sit with someone in the hospital as they slip in and out of consciousness, barely breathing. Now, look at your friends, co-workers, and acquaintances who struggle daily. Now tell me you can't do more for them. I dare you.

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW ARE STRUGGLING WITH SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND/OR TENDENCIES, REACH OUT IMMEDIATELY. NO ONE SHOULD GO THROUGH THIS ALONE. SUICIDE IS SERIOUS.

National Suicide Hotline: 1 (800) 273-8255 - available 24/7