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Suicide is told she has no business trying to "get in"

I was 17 years old when I met my emotionally abusive boyfriend. He had a profound effect on me that lasts to this day, over 30 years later. Over the course of a year, he convinced me to join him in a suicide pact, claiming that we were "better" than the rest of society and deserved to be "somewhere else." He was a drug addict and because of the mental hold that he had over me and the desire to be high with him, I abandoned my family and friends. It was such a pivotal time in my young life and I have always fantasized about never having met him, wishing that I could’ve kept the precious friends that I had and never killed the relationship with my parents, as I was an only child.

I was at his beck and call, to go to him whenever he wanted, because he had enough drugs for us to overdose on. It could be in the middle of the night when I would miss school the next day and cause my parents to be sick over my sudden disappearance. When he moved over 4 hours away to an out-of-state school, I again went to him anytime that he asked. By the time that I arrived, the drugs either disappeared or he decided that he just wasn't ready to go.

He called one night, asking me to make another long drive to see him, and I actually refused. I can only wish that I had more time to become tired of the routine and come to my senses on my own, realizing that I was worth far more than the puppet that he made me feel I was. I couldn't reach him when I called the next morning and found out that he had finally decided to take his life. I wonder if he would have done it sooner if I never came. Perhaps the time alone that he had waiting for me and not showing up made him realize that it was more important for him to die than waiting for me to end my life, too.

My parents forbade me to make the drive to where he was because they knew how raw I was and that that environment was the last place I needed to be. I was extremely distraught over the experience. My mom lost over 10 pounds and she was already quite thin. I looked like absolute hell, judging from the few pictures taken of me after his death.

After his funeral, I was already seriously planning to kill myself. When the time was right and I found the top floor of an empty parking deck, I took an entire package of OTC sleep medicine and sat in my car waiting. I saw my fingernails turn yellow and soon could not move at all. I was already leaning back in my seat in a sleeping position when I began to focus on the sky through my car window. In a trance and without leaving my body, I felt my consciousness move to a particular set of clouds. I was still mostly aware of my surroundings and that I still couldn’t feel my body since it was numb.

What I saw after a few moments wasn’t a person, but a male presence, “looking down” at me. He was upset and annoyed that I was trying to "get in" to where he was. I could sense a few people behind him, males and females, who I felt were just there to passively accompany him until they could all return to where they had come from.

He spoke to me and I felt like I was being reprimanded. It was a mean display of emotion and I knew that he was angry. I was told not to come any further and that I had absolutely no right to come there. Even now, I feel the emotions and how sad and hurt I felt. I just kept "hearing" that I had no business there and to more or less get the hell away. Then I felt myself "pushed" back into my body. I became fully aware then of my surroundings and I willed my body to return to its normal state. I still couldn’t move, but desperately tried to sit up and look for any cars or people that I could yell for help to. I finally regained full use of my body and was able to drive home where I must’ve slept for two days.

I never tried to commit suicide after that. Over time, I developed this overwhelming knowing that I was being watched and the beings that were looking over me loved me in ways that no human could. I still feel it to this day and my belief system in the afterlife, even other dimensions, has increased exponentially. I am grateful for that experience and so grateful to know that I am so strongly loved.

I do wish, as I get older, that I could go "home." It is not a thought with intent, but more of a happy knowing that there will be a long break after I leave my already tired body before I come back again to learn new lessons.

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