green background.png — WITCH'S CASTLE
(JOURNAL EXCERPT)

By Kelly Rentzel

JUNE 5, 2012

BRAIN FEVER

For the last two weeks, I haven’t been able to get the thoughts out of my head. Driving to work, I saw overpasses and tall buildings – possibilities of death that I weighed and pondered. When writing in my office, I contemplated suicide between every word choice. At social events, I drifted farther and farther from the people before me. I felt completely isolated even when surrounded – and like people were talking to me through water.

[The night before, after talking to friends], I decided to try to crawl out of the pool one last time—just like I had seen Catie in swim class: stomach, knee, knee, out. But an anchor was holding me down. And though I struggled to pull myself—thought that I had by the late night—I was back in the depths Monday morning.

I WOKE UP AT 5:35 KNOWING THE ONLY POSSIBILITY FOR ME WAS DEATH.

It felt inevitable, like it was “written.” I spent time researching the possibilities on my phone. The night before, I had looked up resources and cures for depression; now, I didn’t care – I was looking for ways to die. The idea crystallized in my head. I took a shower. No, I did not feel like “me.” I felt fevered, I was sweating, I felt overtaken by some power outside myself, truly, like I was haunted.

I COULDN’T REMEMBER ANY HAPPY MOMENTS, AND THOSE I COULD RECALLED WERE OUTWEIGHED BY PAIN— FAR OUTWEIGHED BY PAIN…

[I was staying at my mom’s house because I had felt the depression coming on.] I knew I had to breeze past my mother. I would do it quickly; I didn’t want her to stop me. I knocked on her closet door, quietly at first…She didn’t hear me the first 2 times; I considered leaving. But no, I had to say “goodbye.” She half-turned…[and] made me promise to call my psychologist. I promised, but had no intention to do so; I didn’t want any help. I was a runaway train.

My mind churned. Sometimes I would feel okay for a minute or two; then that sick feeling would return. I couldn’t escape the undertow….

I first drove to the drugstore: Unisom. That, according to my google [sic] searches, had worked…I stumbled into CVS. I wandered through the aisles…[b]ut I couldn’t find it, and I felt my plan was becoming more obvious to passersby with each tick of the clock.

I left.

I drove to my condo…I left my phone in the car. It was almost out of power, and there would be no calls for help. This was not going to be a cry for help; it was going to work….

I went into the bathroom and tried to take apart my razor….I was unsuccessful, but now bleeding. A lot. I found another razor and couldn’t disassemble that one, either. My hands were covered with blood….

Did I even look in the mirror? I think I glanced.

MY MOM LATER DESCRIBED ME AS HAVING A “HUNTED” LOOK.

Hunted, haunted—I was red-faced, breathing hard, driven by a compulsion I couldn’t explain that was manifesting itself as physical pain. Bolts shot through my arms.

I realized I hadn’t written a note. Words had always been my “thing;” I was a writer. That was my job, that was how I kept up with friends. I was always the one with a poem on a special occasion. But now I was without words…I found a Thank You Note and wrote three short sentences:

THIS IS NO ONE’S FAULT.

YOU ALL DID EVERYTHING YOU COULD.

I AM SO SORRY, CATIE.

I’ve learned the note had teardrops on it. I know it had blood on it. I was. simply. without. hope.

I had one Trazodone; I took it. I turned to the bottle of Ambien; I threw it back and swallowed it in one sure gulp. [There were 57 pills in the bottle.] Then I filled the tub with water, took off my dress…and climbed in. I first lay face-first. I tried to drown myself by dunking my head in the water, but to no avail….So I lay back. Still bleeding, I filled the tub up a little more. Surely I would slip under and drift away.

BUT I WOKE UP.

JUNE 15, 2012

Dear God,

Please help me get over this illness. Please bring me to a better place in my mind. Please make this treatment work. Please silence the dark thoughts in my head. Please help me forgive and love myself.

Love,

Kelly

JULY 3, 2012

Catie: “I’m so happy to be with you, Mom.”

Me: “I’m so happy to be with you, Catie.”

WITCH'S CASTLE