My words are going to be published in a book. Two thousand and nine of my words to be precise. They form a chapter entitled 'Semi-suicidal' which will appear in a book called 'Our Encounters With Suicide' later this year. I have always wanted to be a published author ... how strange that the lowest point of my life so far would be the inspiration for those words. I'll hopefully be able to share more of the chapter with you once it's been published but in the meantime here is the opening paragraph {Spoiler alert: I survive}:
"I am standing by the sink in our kitchen. I am holding a knife in my right hand. I am pressing the very tip of the blade hard against the artery that runs up my left wrist. I want to puncture the vein and let some blood flow but my skin is unyielding and resists my efforts. I am not trying to kill myself but a part of me wants to know how easy it will be to slit open that vein if I do decide to die. I’m disheartened to discover that it will be much harder than I have imagined."
