Did You Know?
The following are some of the signs that one may be depressed and/or considering suicide:
Feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, and/or helplessness
Suicidal thoughts and/or plan
Access to means (gun, pills, etc.)
Loss of pleasure or enjoyment in previously enjoyed activities
Isolating oneself from family and friends
A Recent Major Loss or Stressful/Traumatic Event
Feeling trapped and/or a burden to others
Feelings of Shame or Humiliation
*Note that one or a few signs may not be significant, but several may be cause for concern. Don't be afraid to ask, you could help save a life!
If you or a loved one are considering suicide, get help. In the U.S., you can call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline for 24/7 support at 1-800-273-8255 or text Crisis Text Line at 741741. For all other countries, please visit /resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines.
Tris' POV
I haven't been sleeping much after the attack and what little sleep I do is wracked by nightmares. I know it, Tobias knows it, but neither of us addresses it though I can tell it's frustrating him.
I wish I could make it stop more than anything. Tobias has gone back to work, but I haven't. I can't face everything just yet. Too scary; too painful. I feel like a coward. I'm supposed to be brave, yet I'm not. I've cut myself off from the rest of the world as much as possible.
I wonder what it will take to fix myself and feel whole again. My fear of intimacy has returned and I can't look at Tobias the same way. It's not his fault which makes me feel even worse not to mention the fact that I'm pregnant.
I don't think I'm going to make a very good mother, especially as I can't bring myself to leave the house lately. I know it's not healthy; that I should get help but I don't know if I can yet. I know that sounds silly and I need to get on with life. Not yet, not yet I tell myself as I sigh.
II can't bring myself to do much of anything; feeling overwhelmed and numb without any other feelings. Nothing feels worth it and I feel as though I have lost myself. I am here. I exist without purpose.
I eat, try to sleep, shower, and repeat it as I am stuck in the cycle. I keep waiting for something to change or feel different every day. When things feel too intense or numb and I am alone, I cut myself to help it.
It's wrong, but I can't stop it. It's the only thing that seems to help. No one understands me. Sometimes, it feels better to just be alone. It's not necessarily that I want to be, but it's easier than trying to explain or interact with people at times.
I remember from my time in Erudite how much I wanted to die and think about that now. I don't see the hope in things ever getting better, so I have been planning ways to attempt suicide. Death holds the promise of finality; in not having to continue to live this way.
I set out the note I've written for Tobias explaining why I am doing what I am. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone really, but I can't continue with life. It is just too hard; too much and I can't do it.
I go to the bathroom medicine cabinet and pull out a bottle of pills. I grab the bottle and carry it back to the living room with me. I cut into my arm and watch as the blood begins to flow as I open the pills and begin to swallow them to help get the job done.
I start to relax; hoping the end is near soon. I'm startled as I notice the front door opening and notice Tobias walking inside. I swallow the rest of the pills as I don't want him to stop me. "Tris?" he asks quietly, but I don't answer him.
I don't want this anymore. And what this is, I realize, is life. I don't want it. I want my parents and I have for weeks. I've been trying to claw my way back to them, and now I am so close and he is going to tell me not to.
I drop the empty pill bottle as he notices. "Tris, what the hell are you doing?" he yells. "Oh my god!" he gasps, eyeing the blood and empty bottle around me. He scoops me and I protest "No, just let me die! Please!" as I thrash about.
"No, I can't let you do that. Stay with me now." he answers. He tells me to say what I did and even though I'm reluctant at first, I do tell him about the pills and cutting. He begins to drive us to the hospital as I feel myself fading and everything goes black.
When I wake, I hear the familiar beep of the heart monitor which tells me that my plan didn't succeed. My arms are restrained so I cannot move and try again as I see a tired-looking Tobias sitting next to me.
"Why didn't you just let me die?! It's what I wanted." I yell. "Because I love you too much to let that happen. You die, I die, remember?" he answers quietly. "I can't live like this, it's too much. It's too much." I repeat as Tobias wraps me in his arms and I cry.
"It not fair to you. You don't deserve to have to go through this with me." I sob and Tobias shushes me. "Tris, I would rather go through all of this with you than not. Just promise me next time you're feeling this way, you'll tell me so we can talk about it." he whispers and I nod.
They decide to keep me in the hospital for a few days to make sure I'm okay and to start me on some meds to help with the anxiety. I am diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and prenatal depression which I agree to get treatment for.
After I am released from the hospital, I go to a residential treatment center so I can get the help I need that is called the Center for Hope. It's for women only that I expect to be at for at least a month in the former Amity sector.
It's a beautiful wooded place where I can start getting the help I need to feel better. I arrive on a Wednesday after lunch just in time for art therapy. The group leader, Rebecca, leads us in drawing and collaging things that we enjoy and make us feel safe.
I meet some of the other girls around my age there and start to feel like maybe I'm not alone in all of this after all. It will be tough to adjust to not being at home I know, but it's what I need most right now.
Tobias is planning to call and visit as much as possible and the schedule here should help keep me busy enough not to miss home too much. His last words to me at the hospital before I left were all too familiar for both of us.
Be brave, Tris.