Kids are supposed to have fun and great memories they can happily share with their friends and loved ones as they try to reminisce. Unfortunately, some kids had the opposite. Some, like myself, had those memories we wish we could bury 6 feet below the ground. Despite being so unpleasant, some of these memories could still give valuable lessons to those whose ears are willing to listen or eyes that are willing to read.

I was only around 8 or 9 when I had this obsession with dying at a young age. I even used to pray to God to take my life and give it to someone more worthy to live than I. Due to this obsession, I spent most of my early childhood years in my room, planning how to end my life without suffering for too long.

You might be wondering why the obsession at a very young age. Honestly, I was born with a disability, and as a child, it made me think that my life was worthless and that I didn't belong on this planet Earth. Although I grew up with a loving family and had a couple of friends, this still didn't change how I felt about myself.

The obsession started when I finally attended school. This was where I got bullied every day. Seeing other kids making fun of me, calling me names, and blaming my parents for being this made me want to disappear instantly. So when I was around 8 or 9 years old and saw quite a few movies about how people die, it got me thinking of trying it myself to end my own misery.

But before you feel sorry for me, know that this article is supposed to be funny. I am aware that a topic like this is quite sensitive, and people shouldn't make fun of it, but it's just that my crazy ideas/experiences were just too priceless that even my nieces couldn't stop laughing about it.

So let me share it with you about my suicidal attempts that made my nieces laugh like crazy:

One time, the house was empty. I mean, no one was around except me. Perhaps, mom was in the market, dad was at work, and my brother was with friends. My other 3 siblings, well, they attended high school/college miles away from home.

From that moment on, I realized this was my chance to execute my plan. So I went to the kitchen, checked the bucket, filled it up, and started preparing myself for my next move. When everything was ready, I knew I had to do it quickly before someone caught me in the act. So I immediately sat next to the bucket and pushed my head into the water. I even pretended that someone actually did it instead of me doing it.

I wanted to die so bad that I tried to focus on achieving my goal. After a few seconds of trying, I came to my senses and realized I badly needed air. While trying to hold my breath, my brain was also telling me I needed to breathe. So as much as I wanted to hold my breath for another 20 seconds, I decided to get up and stop what I was doing. Since then, I realized dying by drowning myself in a bucket of water wasn't a good idea and definitely, not a painless way to end my miserable life.

Hanging is one of the common ways to commit suicide. Since I was small (and am still), I didn't know how or where to hang myself that would surely end my life. Then I got lucky and found my dad's belt. I find belts as a great alternative tool to end life.

Of course, I made sure no one was around. I didn't want to get caught because that would put me in great trouble. I then started strangling myself with my dad's belt. Unfortunately, it was only causing so much pain around my neck and didn't kill me instantly. I couldn't bare the pain, so I gave up and planned for my next move.

Sometimes, looking at our kitchen knives made me think of bad things like stabbing my heart. However, that would need a lot of courage to do and as a kid, I barely had any. So instead of stabbing, I came up with another plan and that was to slit my wrist.

Unlike the first one, I realized that wrist-slitting was much easier for me to pull off. So one time, I took a knife, went to my room, and tried to do it. Then I suddenly remembered that I hated seeing my own blood. I also just couldn't do it.

Then another crazy idea came up to me. This was a prank I made for my mom. I just wanted to see her reaction, whether or not she would rush to my room when she heard a loud bang. So one day, my mom was in the kitchen preparing for lunch, and I got the idea to prank her. I took a kitchen knife, ketchup, water, and a red ballpen. I mixed water with ketchup that would serve as my fake blood. I also drew a red line on my wrist using my red ballpen. This would serve as the cut. I poured some fake blood onto my wrist, knife, and some on the floor. Then I pretended to collapse on the floor.

The plan was to see how my mom would react if she heard something unusual in my room. After I collapsed, I waited patiently for my mom to check on me. She didn't come, so I waited and waited and waited, and waited till I got tired of waiting. I got up, went to the kitchen, and asked her why she didn't check on me. She was confused and then showed her my wrist. She was mad at me, but not enough to rant at me.

I was disappointed, to be honest, but she was busy in the kitchen and probably didn't hear me. Oh well.

Looking back at this memory makes me laugh now. I couldn't believe I had those crazy moments in my life, even at an early age.

Kids are supposed to have fun memories, but unfortunately, I'm one of those who had gone through some tough childhood years. It wasn't easy, especially for my situation, but still grateful that I had those things in the past that made me who I am now: not as a weakling, but as someone who knows how to fight her own demons.

The last time I tried to commit suicide was in my 20s. Thank God, He didn't let it happen. Since then, I realized that I have to learn to love myself, to love my flaws, to accept the things I can and cannot do, and, of course, to know that God made me this for a reason.