Who me Suicide?!

I was nineteen when I sliced my wrist in the bathroom of my apartment. I am not sure if I was trying to commit Suicide; I only remember being in so much pain I didn’t know what else to do.
I never told anyone I believed that after giving birth to my son; my life was so unpleasant the thought of killing myself had entered my mind.
Those moments should have been happy; I was a new mother with a beautiful baby boy.
Why wasn’t I happy?!
I can’t recollect verbatim the moment I decided to harm myself.
And I can’t remember the incident that resulted in me wanting to.
Why did I want to hurt myself?!
While thinking about that day many years ago, there could have been several reasons why I thought about ending things. I could have had postpartum depression, maybe I didn’t understand my living situation, or I could have still suffered because my mother and biological father weren’t in my life. My mother by death and my father by choice, or I could have been distraught because of my situation with my son’s father, or it could have been all of the above.
What was it? What was the deciding factor that caused me to want to take my life?!
When I walked out of the bathroom that day, I was desperate as blood dripped from the tissues I held to my arm to hold my son. And that’s what I did; I picked him up from his cradle and had him close for several hours.
I never tried to hurt myself again, but the thoughts lingered inside me for years. It’s funny, strange, how my son’s father threatened my life in that same bathroom a few weeks later.
I wrote this story because I needed to share it.
No Judgements, please.
*I pray if someone is contemplating Suicide, they call the Suicide Hot Line 988. Emergency Number 911
Please don’t suffer alone!