July 9th, 2014 8:20 AM
**TRIGGER WARNING**: This post contains severe suicidal ideation and extreme depressive comments/remarks. Please read at risk. If at any point you have been triggered I advise you to stop reading, call the suicide prevention hotline number ( 1-800-273-8255) or talk to someone immediately. Thank you.
I would have never thought this would happen again; exactly what am I talking about here? Relapsing. I am falling back into my former depressive and suicidal state. But how could this be? Why could this be? Everything was and is going great for me. I take my medications every day, I continue to be focused and remain positive, I am back in the habit of doing the things I love to do, seeing my therapist/psychiatrist regularly…so why is this happening? Treatment and hospitalization definitely helped me recognize the signs when I start to relapse or go back to my old ways and I acknowledged all the signs early this morning.
Yesterday and all the weeks prior, I was feeling great. I felt happy, something I did not feel in a while. I had energy to do so many things and I could think coherently and make appropriate decisions for myself without second guessing. But last night when the clock struck 1:00 AM I completely switched to the old me the night before my most recent suicide attempt.
It started with THE CRY: THE SOURCE. I cried and cried, literally bawled my eyes out until my body could not cry anymore. My body, mainly my chest, was in so much pain from crying, something that typically happens when I simultaneously cry and hyperventilate. Before I started to cry, I was sitting at my laptop responding to comments and listening to music. Nothing sad or depressing was in the mix. I completely shut down and dropped everything I was doing. I walked into the kitchen and sat in the corner facing the knife section. I continued to sobbed.
Next, THE VOICES, THE THOUGHTS, THE SELF-TALK: THE STIMULUS. I sat in the corner and tried my best to stop crying. My cellphone was in my lap, I wanted to call a friend to discuss what started to happen, but as I scrolled through my contact list I could not recognize a “friend” anywhere in my contacts. I looked up at the ceiling and heard a voice, I started to hear the voices again. They confirmed and told me I did not have any friends and that nobody loves me and I, too, do not love myself. Of course, I responded and told them that was not true…I do have friends, and people who love me and I love myself and life so much right now. But no. The voices did not want to hear it. The voices started to yell at me and told me I am a low-life, no good person who wants to save the world but in reality needs to save herself first. They told me the people I really think are my friends do not care that I have a mental illness and that’s the reason why my friends have yet to call or check in on me. I broke down; I curled into a ball in the corner of the kitchen and cried. The voices told me the truth, what they were saying was true. It all made sense why my friends do not contact me…they do not want to deal with me: the psycho Homo Sapien. I started to panic.
The suicidal thoughts and negative self-talk marched in. I started to bang my head against the wall until the back of my head started to bleed. I did not feel anything…I felt so numb and warm. I started to sweat profusely. I ran to my laptop where I typed the following on a sticky note on my dashboard,
” I secretly need help I do. I am still hurting. Why am I hurting? I cry because if I took my life it would really be over like for good and I wouldn’t get to see what I’ve done to the people around me. Okay in my mind yes they will be hurt, not temporarily but forever. But I do want to hurt them forever because they all hurt me. You all hurt me. There is another part of my mind that tells me they will only hurt in that moment because I am not physically here for them to hold. Well if you wanted to hold me you had your chance…you just did not reach out…which is your loss not mine. I cannot hold myself forever, you know. I cannot figure out why I feel the way I do but I do. My mind is standing on the edge of a cliff; there is one half of me that wants to stay but I just cannot stand here anymore….what can’t I just stay huh? And be happy and loved…Here I am sobbing in front of my computer because I am suffering. I am mentally and emotionally hurting. Nobody likes me not even my own blood sisters. I am afraid to wake up and face the day knowing that something can set off my triggers and I go bananas and flip the hell out. WHY CAN’T I JUST GET MY DAMN WAY? Oh right I forgot that is life, this is life…you cannot always get what you want and so on. And so I have a life for what reason exactly? Please someone tell me. Why have a life when you cannot get the things you want like happiness and love? I want to die but why can’t this happen? I try and do, try and do and it does not freakin’ happen. I want to be stable and happy every single goddamn day of my life and not have these moments like right now where I want to take the kitchen knife and stab myself 7 times and bleed profusely and have my family find me dead the next morning, dead on the kitchen floor drowning in my own pool of blood. I JUST CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE. I am hurt…I’ve been hurt…I am hearing too many voices right now and I have a serious headache and cannot think. Oh my goodness I cannot breathe…I am dying…YES…I am dying…can someone please tell me I am dying…wait…Self check: *pinch*: Nope! I am still here..Okay, onto Round 2.”
I wrote this at 1:12 AM this morning. This is how I felt at 1 AM this morning. All of sudden, I went from having a jolly day and a happy spirit to this in a matter of hours. So what happened after I wrote this ?
THE (INTERRUPTED) RESPONSE happened. Yes, my response to the voices and suicidal thoughts were interrupted meaning I did not go through with the actions. After I typed my feelings and thoughts, I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a tall glass of cold water. I walked over to the knife station and pulled out the biggest and sharpest knife and laid it down in front of me. I started to tap my fingers on the counter-top and told myself, “Look here, I can do this all it takes is either one slit to the throat or a quick stab and pull out. You got this now do it.” I did not do it. I did not stab myself. Reality touched me for a quick second and I placed the knife back in its spot. I told myself, “I do not want to die. I cannot die. I have so much to live for…” Literally, 20 seconds later I found myself walking over to the pill cabinet and removing both my Viibryd and Seroquel pill bottles. I opened up both. Each bottle contains 30 pills, I received my monthly refill that morning. Again, I tapped my fingers on the counter top and cried, “This is it. The moment you’ve always wanted for yourself. Take ALL of the pills now and you can be at peace with yourself. You do not have to hurt anymore. Here’s the water and the pills. Go.” Mind you I did not plan any of the above actions ahead of time, it happened abruptly.
All of a sudden a woman appeared in the darkness. I am not lying to you I could not believe my eyes. I actually feel stupid for writing this here in my blog but I have to share this. A woman appeared at my side…it was Emily, my friend who passed away recently, she stood right next me. She was in her tan prom dress and had her hands on her hips like she always did and addressed me by my full name, including my middle name, as she always did and said to me, “For heavens sake, what are you doing dear. This is ridiculous. I am so sorry I hurt you and everyone. But, dear it is not your time yet. Please get your butt to bed and sleep your pretty little head off. I love you always baby girl.” And she walked away. I heard her voice….I saw her one last time. I closed the pills bottles, put them back on the shelf, shut my laptop, and went to bed. I have no idea whether or not what happened was real but I do believe it and will always believe what I heard and saw.
Here I am on this whimsical Wednesday morning writing this post and sharing my story once again. Eating a slice of wheat toast and took my morning meds. I know this blog is about my rebirth , but I do consider what happened last night a stage in my rebirth. I relapsed late last night/early this morning and wanted to take my life again, but I did not. Reality weaved in and out of my head until I put my foot down and told reality to stop and stay here. I did not take action last night and I am so proud of myself for finding it deep within myself to not take the 60+ prescription antidepressants or stab myself. I am so proud I called the Suicide Prevention Crisis Hotline number at 3:00 AM and spoke to a kind man about what happened earlier. For those who have doubts and feel there is no point in calling the hotline number, you are wrong! It was an excellent experience and the person did not ask me a series of questions he listened, gave me advice on what I should do like call my therapist and tell my mother. If you are suffering I highly recommend you to call the number. Please.
I am so proud I called my therapist this morning ,told him what happened and re-scheduled my session for an earlier time. Yes, this was a small bump in the road, a short relapse, but I took control of the crisis and I took control of my life.
I am in control of my life!