Two years ago, I almost succeeded in taking my own life. My brush with suicide (recovery story) · 5:53am Feb 9th, 2020
I'm...not proud or too fond of this event. The only reason I'm speaking about it now is because some considerable time has passed. For those of you who remember the blog (this one), August 26th, 2017 was the morning I almost died.
Yes, for those who didn't know, I nearly succeeded in trying to commit suicide. I was only very lucky that I woke up later on, approximately five hours later, when I wrote the follow-up blog.
Spirits are lethal, children. The simple answer is to not touch them. It's safer for everybody involved, trust me on that one. It ain't worth the risk, especially if you lack self-control. It won't go well for you.
It took me a very long internal debate to think about what happened that night when I began drinking until morning, and I arrived at a conclusion. I used to tell my friends that it was an accident that I got so wasted, that it was a simple, drunken mistake that happened due to downing glasses as fast as I could fill them. They weren't small helpings, either - they were full-to-the-brim whiskey glasses, and I was downing them like cold coffee. That isn't true in the slightest. If you want to know the truth in its entirety, here it is -
Subconsciously, while I passed it off as an accident, it was far from it. I intended to kill myself that night when I began drinking. Granted, I wasn't actually planning on drinking, I just picked up the bottle at some point and had a glass before pouring another and then a part of my brain clicked and I thought, ''you know what? Fuck this!'' and I went nuts.
You know, I was so wasted and out of it that I barely had the willpower in me to move. The last thing I remember is I pulled out two bean bag chairs, slid them together in front of the couch by the door, then I collapsed onto them on my stomach. And then I passed out. I'm sure that if I finished the remainder of that bottle, considering how fast I was downing it, it would have literally destroyed my liver and killed me while I was passed out. I'm not stupid enough to know that it wouldn't kill me; I know my alcohol.
Apparently, when I thankfully woke up for the first time, in an event I don't remember, my dad came in afterwards and I was barely comprehensible, complaining, ''I don't feel well!'' and it took my dad a few seconds to realise I've been drinking my ass off. I passed out again and he let me sleep it off. I woke up again sometime later, hardly recalling what had happened, confused where I was and feeling like I had been run over by something so heavy that my entire stomach region felt caved in and ruined, so very tender.
I had no feeling in my face, hands, fingers, tongue or anything. My nerves were so wrecked by the alcohol still stewing in my system that they refused to work and it took me three or so days to full regain my sense of touch. I was also so pale when I looked at myself in the mirror that I actually thought I had died and I was staring at myself as a ghost. I'm pale-skinned in general, so you can imagine how terrible I must have looked. I was the very definition of white. I was suffering from extreme nausea for maybe around a week or so afterwards, too, but I found it impossible to puke up the impurities from my body in order to purge them.
It's not quite three years just yet, seeing as it's only February, but it'll mark three years since my almost fateful suicide attempt when August comes up. You know, it seems a whole lot earlier than I originally thought. It hardly feels to me like a lot of time has passed since then.
Since then, you'll be pleased to know I've not been intoxicated since. I've completely stayed away from any alcohol, not keen on getting hammered on anything or trying to wreck my system again. I don't think my body can take it. When you're already suffering from chronic fatigue and mental health issues that drain you of your energy, your tolerance barriers are easily degradable with alcoholic beverages. The last time I drank anything of the kind, it was my birthday last year when I was bought a bottle of Jack Daniels by my dad, twice. Oh, and a set of three mini bottles of Scottish scotch for Christmas. That's all I've had in three years.
Moderation is a good trait to have, but me? I don't trust myself enough around it. I won't even choose to be around alcohol, including pubs, bars or certain people who drink it during parties. I tend to stay clear and focus on my music. My episode of self-destruction was enough to make me want to rehabilitate myself, so I'm going to stay clear if I can help it. I'd be happy if I never touched a drop again. (Whiskey fudge sounds better. It tastes better, too! 
)
But...yeah, that's it. Two or so years since my brush with death. I survived, if only barely, and I'm trying to do better at controlling myself and you'll be pleased to hear that I've not had that many dark thoughts or any further suicide attempts since then. I'm a clean person from now on. All I am is emotionally stressed and tired, but that's because I hardly sleep and because I'm in the middle of packing in preparation for a third move back home sometime this year. (Hooray! 
)
I just want to say one last thing before I leave this off - for my friends out there over the internet that I've met on this site and had many pleasant interaction with, I want to say that I'm truly sorry that I scared you all and made you worry about me like that. I feel guilty about the whole thing. I was so done with life and at the end of my rope and my internal misery and personal demons that I didn't have the ability to care anymore. I'm sorry for the whole thing.
I'm especially sorry to my closest friends. You should all know who you are, and you tried to talk me out of it on the blog I posted when I was so distraught, being nice to me and trying to get me to see how much you cared about me. Coming from people who've never met the real me, the in-the-flesh misfit muppet, it means more than I can describe in words that you decided to stick by me through by far my roughest and toughest moment. You've all seen me at my worst plenty of times, but that night, by far, was the absolute, undeniable worst.
I thank you all for your kindness and compassion. It means so much to me, part of the reason I've stuck around since then and not attempted anything recently since it happened. I can't offer much back in return for the kindness, but this will have to suffice - 💛
Seriously, I never want to do anything like that again. I have learned better self-control since then, not to mention that I've completely cut out drinking as a habitual thing. I don't even pick spirits or any form of alcohol, not even the light stuff, as general drink choices anymore. I switched to drinking Coke Zero and tea. I don't know how much damage I might have caused to my body after what happened, but I can at least promise you all that I'm far from likely in attempting anything so daft and messed up for a very, very long time. It's never a good answer and it solves absolutely nothing.
Once again, I thank you all and I love you like family.
Peace and love,
- Dan Ribe 💛☮
Hey dude I'm glad ya are still here and didnt do it. Because is ya did we wouldn't have anymore of your amazing content. If you feel ya need anybody to talk to, and nobody else is around, I'm here. While it ain't much I'm always willing to try to help.
I tried taking my life last year, but thankfully I was stopped. I know how it feels to want to give up and end it all. It's a hard sometimes but it always gets better. We have to believe that. I hope it will be okay for you and wish you the best of luck.
5199917
Thanks, man. 💛
5199921
I'm glad you were stopped. Just try to remember this, like somebody once told me - ''Don't ever go thinking like that. No matter how hard it gets, there's always somebody who cares.'' True words from one of my friends. And thanks. 💛
Thank goodness you're still with us. Don't turn to alcohol if you need escape, turn to your friends here.
5200154
Yeah, that escape was so very narrow. I honestly can't recall ever having or experiencing a worse feeling to the point where I'd confirm having flu was better. It gives me goosebumps knowing that I could have so very easily died, but I'm grateful I didn't.
And yes, I'll take you up on that. Gracias.
5201759
*hugs tight* Glad to hear it