I Swear You Will Be Fine

Warning: Potential Triggers

Triggers come when you least expect it.

I recently took Ammamma and Patta to a hospital nearby for an appointment. As I passed the Emergency Department, the jolt hit me again, but this time, because of a bad memory.

It was May 2022. I was at work and my phone rang with an unknown number. It was one of your friends. The moment he introduced himself, my heart sank. He told me he thought you had overdosed. I called Ammamma who was at home with you to ask how you were. And she said you were fine. Minutes later, the paramedics were knocking at the door. Ammamma was hysterical and did not want to let them into the house. They eventually came in and you confirmed that you had overdosed on your medication. Another of your friends, G also arrived at our home. There was nothing unusual about the day. No known triggers. The only thing out of the ordinary that I found out about later was that you had asked Tun for a full water bottle to be in your room.

I left work abruptly and drove almost recklessly home. When I got there, there were several ambulances parked outside. I had a sick feeling seeing them, knowing they were there for you. 30 months later, Jess would have a sick feeling, seeing them parked there again, but this time because you had passed.

When I got home, the paramedics were checking you out. You looked like you were at a casual gathering, pleasantly talking to your friend G, even making jokes and occasionally laughing. I was so mad. But also worried. Dad came minutes later. I called Dr A who said I should allow the paramedics to take you to the hospital. I got into the ambulance with you, but we hardly spoke. I can’t remember how I felt. Shock? Worry? Sadness? Anger? All of it? I remember halfway through the ride the driver turning on the siren. It wasn’t  because you were acutely unwell. You looked fine. I think it was just a bit of traffic. But I remember thinking, “my goodness, it has come to this”.

As we approached the Emergency Department, I remember having the sickest feeling. As soon as they took you in to be examined, I broke down in the waiting room. I just couldn’t believe this had happened. 

Jess was in the middle of exams. I knew she was going to call me soon from London, and I was wondering how to hide this. Within a second of the FaceTime call, she figured out I wasn’t at home, and I had to tell her. Later we would talk about the disbelief of you popping one pill after the other, alone in your room. And how it made us sick thinking about it.

The next several hours were us waiting for updates and tests. After just a couple of hours, you started to panic about having to stay there overnight. And kept insisting to leave. There was nothing I could do. It was so difficult. Dr A and the ED consultants insisted you had to stay. You were getting more and more worked up, and I was struggling to handle the situation.

Eventually you got angry with me, and I left for home. We couldn’t stay in the ED, but Dad hung around the hospital. I would tell Aunty K later that I finally slept well that night because I knew you were safe. By the next morning, all the required tests were done and you had been reviewed by all. The ED consultant was so empathetic to me. He asked me to come into the Doctors’ quarters to look at all your results. Though I wasn’t crying, he could see the anguish on my face. Hours later, they let you go home- convinced that we would follow up with Dr A and your therapist. All weekend I was a mess and even angry, but I couldn’t show it to you. I wish I understood how much pain you must have been in to have done something like that.

In a note you had written to yourself shortly after this incident, you had said that that was your first attempt. And in your next attempt, you would succeed. How accurate you were.

I’ve read that the single most important risk factor for suicide is a prior attempt. I knew this, and still couldn’t prevent what happened. Maybe I should have chained you to your bed. But I realise now you were already chained- to all the terrible thoughts that plagued you for years. For that and more, I am again grateful that you are at peace.

Love you darling,

Mum