The pain shot up my back, spreading like fire.
Why wouldn’t it stop? Why was this happening to me.
I got on all fours, as tears streamed down my face. The pain wouldn’t stop no matter what I did it just wouldn’t go away.
I was cursed I knew it, I mean what else could be the reason for this?
Who had I hurt? I had obviously done something to someone and it must have been so bad, to be suffering from such severe karma.
I continued the back exercises that the physio had recommended, but still the pain continued.
Nothing was working, not the heat balm or the freeze spray and the two anti-inflammatory pills I had taken an hour ago, still had no affect.
I was in agony. I was gonna die. This was so much more than pain.
Images of my family and other loved ones flooded my mind as I continued to writhe around on the floor.
This was torture. This was a feeling that that had brought me to the edge.
I was done. Finished. I wanted it to end.
I reached over for the packet of pills on my bed and popped open every compartment. I threw my head back and chucked in the remaining fourteen pills and washed them down with now room temperature water.
As soon as I swallowed them all, I knew I had made a mistake. Regret rushed through me. Within minutes my stomach had began to bubble. What had I done?
I had unwillingly caused myself to overdose. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to die. Pain was not something that would drive me to want to die. I had wanted freedom, a release but I hadn’t wanted this!
I ran out of my bedroom and straight for the toilet. I made so many bargains with God as I lay my head over the bowl willing the vomit to come; I would live in pain forever if only it meant I could live.
I wanted to live more than anything.