Wednesdays

I've always hated Wednesdays. They're not close enough to the beginning of the week to be angry about, and they aren't close enough to the end to enjoy. Wednesdays are just...there. I guess that's why, out of all the days in the week, I decided to kill myself on a Wednesday.1

I guess before I lay the big heavy on, I should at least tell you about myself. I'm not saying that who I am really matters, I might as well be your daughter, or your student, or your grandson, or that one chick who always comes into the gas station you work at to buy a pack of cigarettes and a Lotto ticket. Who says I even have to be young? Regardless of my exact personality, I am another depressed face in the crowd. Like most people, I hit a bad patch in life where things were just way over my head. Unlike most people, I didn't cope. My coping mechanism is a complete shutdown of all logical portions of my brain telling me that things will improve. If you knew me in passing, you wouldn't notice. The only slight change might be that you started seeing me just a little less often, and then not at all. I'm just another sad somebody.2

So, Wednesday. I went through the whole spiel: wrote the note, kissed my fiancée goodbye, and called my mom to tell her I love her. All was ready. I could finally go out.3

I sat down and took some Benadryl. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, “Benadryl? What a lame way to go. I mean, will that even kill you?” Well, if might, but that's not why I took it. You see, the human body responds to an overdose by expelling the drug. Usually, this is why kids trying to off themselves with pills usually end up puking their guts out for a bit and then pass out. They wake up with a hangover. The Benadryl exists in this story because an antihistamine, taken on an empty stomach at least half an hour before attempting to overdose on pills will counteract the body's defense mechanism.4

After the Benadryl I had to wait. I decided to go lay down with my sweetie for a little bit (he was sleeping). My mortality hit me at the most inopportune of moments, and I found myself sobbing and apologizing. When I went to get up about thirty minutes later, he followed me. He wouldn't leave me alone.
Long story short, he learned of my intentions. He took my bag and my car keys and kept me under constant surveillance. I had nothing. I was stuck. I asked for my things and he handed me four cigarettes and a half-empty box of tampons. Great tools for ending a life, right?5

I walk out front, and he follows. He won't leave me alone outside, because he knows me. I spend a few minutes crying, and then ask for him to fetch me something from inside. He obliges.
The second the front door closes behind him, I run. It's October, and it's raining, and I'm dressed in shorts, flip-flops, and a t-shirt. I have nothing with me except three cigarettes and those tampons. It becomes obvious at this point that I'm not thinking.
So here I am, on a Wednesday, traipsing through the suburbs late at night and hoping to die. Getting hit by a car was out, since it was miles to anywhere the speed limit broke 25mph. I don't have the means to do anything but walk and cry.6

I only have two cigarettes left when my shoe breaks. Walking is out of the question now, so I sit down on the sidewalk and start crying. How can I die now? I try to smoke before the rain douses my cigarette, and I try to gather the strength to burn myself.
Here I am, alone in front of a stranger's house trying to work up the courage to burn myself. A few light taps with the embers later, I give up.7

One cigarette left.8

I have no idea what time it is, but I can't cry anymore. I sob and sob, but the tears have all dried up. I still want to die, but this is my last cigarette. What can I do to kill myself with a broken sandal and some tampons? It's cold, and I'm tired.
I walk towards the house while trying to find the nerve to do something rash. As I step through the front door I'm asking myself why I'm home. Someone asks me if I'm feeling better. I reflexively respond that I am. 9

I check the clock. 12:15 AM. 10

God, I hate Thursdays.