Well, the next few weeks consisted of nights spent of various friends sofas while commuting to my part time jobs, trying to maintain my uni attendance and visiting my then girlfriend. It was so strange, it felt weird, I felt so alone. I told little of the true horrors to anyone, my friends knew I was going through a tough time with my family but few of them knew I was sofa surfing and living out of my car, I would make excuses about being too tired to drive or suggest girly nights with a bottle of wine to avoid needing to be honest about needing a place to stay. I was embarrassed, stupid as it sounds now, I thought they would think less of me if they knew the truth.
Eventually the time came for my family to go and visit relatives overseas, my family wanted to keep up appearances and didn't want to have to explain my absence so I was allowed to go along but was advised not to discuss "my lifestyle choice" with anyone and to pretend like we were a happy family for the 2 week holiday. As it happened this was not all that difficult because as soon as we arrived I was off with my cousins and saw little of my parents. I fained sleep for the duration of the flights and car journey home and by the time the trip was over my parents had relented on the idea of me living back at home. Although by this point it was apparently me who had decided to leave and they had had nothing to do with my departure and had never called me any "offensive" names.
This is how life continued for over a year. Keeping up appearances in front of my extended family, escaping to visit my then girlfriend (who had by this point returned from overseas) at any available opportunity, and spending as long as possible out of the house. My once home had become a place to lay my head and take a shower. I took a job working evenings so I could stay in bed late, head to uni for my afternoon lectures then straight to my evening job resulting in me not arriving home till close till 11pm most evenings and avoiding as much time in the presence of my parents. While completing my masters I was offered the opportunity to go overseas on an aid project and stay a little longer to travel. I jumped at the opportunity and spent a couple of months away during which my mother hoped I would "find myself"or more accurately find my inner heterosexual.
My time away was incredible but needless to say I failed to find my inner heterosexual. I found some greater perspective in life but my return, much to my surprise, sparked the end of my relationship with my then girlfriend which marked the start of some dark times. As you can imagine I received little comfort from my family and lost part of what had become my support network, in the form of friends of hers. My family's response to the news of the break up was to smile and offer the pearl of wisdom, "it obviously wasn't right then" and to never mention the matter again.
During the months that followed I withdrew from my friends, spent most of my time, that I was not in work or at uni, on my own watching movies, listening to music or on the internet. Things were no better with my family and every time my parents looked at me all I could see what how much I had hurt them and how disappointed they were in me. I got to a point where I felt nothing was ever going to improve, I began to self harm and started to plan how I might end my life. I felt I had burdened my friends enough and that everything I did was just causing further hurt to my family. I was drinking heavily, often alone, I stayed up till the early hours and slept till lunch time.
I had come to the end of what I felt I could tolerate and late one evening 3 days before my 23rd birthday, I had decided I could not go on and armed myself with a bottle of wine and a 500pill box of paracetamol. I knew if this was what I wanted I had to make sure I succeeded and intended on starting with some heavy drinking before taking more than double the required dose to end my life (which I had been sure to research in advance). My suicide note was written and ready to print and I was occupying myself in a few online chat rooms as I drank, making bets with myself that I was that unlovable that none would speak to me, when I received a message from a gorgeous younger girl who's picture I had commented on replied. By the time I received her message I was already well oiled and had nothing to loose so was rather bolder than I would normally have been, to my surprise my boldness paid off and we agreed to meet up for a drink the day after my birthday. She had no idea what I'd had planned for that evening or that in a strange way she had just saved my life.
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