Stepping in the Right Direction ~ TRIGGER WARNING

 

Day 20 of 366. Wow, I am on a roll today. I don't write for days so my book has a few blank pages, but those blanks spots were absolutely necessary for me to be here right now, writing. Believe me when I say this... if I hadn't of gone through what I did, things may have been very different in this moment; and since I am not about the "what ifs"... this page is just once again reminding me that I AM moving forward... some days may be baby steps, but I am still trekking in the right direction.

I know this blurb is going to be very difficult for some to read, so I am going to put a trigger warning in the title. I can only write this from my perspective, of course, as many view it in their own ways. I am not writing this out of sympathy or pity... I am writing this so that it may help others, or make others more aware of how silence is NEVER golden!!!

As you all know, at least those closest to me, know that my health has been crap for quite a while now and things kind of came to a head when I literally felt like the walls were caving in. I am dealing with a ton of physical ailments, something I am not discussing in thie blurb. I want to talk about mental health and how deeply it affects some people, including me.

Here is the story...

I am not going to divulge dates nor anything like that, but I am going to be VERY open about events that have transpired in my life. I overdosed a couple weeks ago. Thankfully, I have some amazing souls in my life who literally gave me the strength to call 911. I don't have much memory of the day nor what triggered it, but I took over 300 pills. I have a few ideas, but cannot say with certainty what the trigger was, but something set me off. I had a relatively decent day, spending time with my friend who I consider a sister. I was in a good mood, at least I thought I was, for the previous 3 weeks. Needless to say, I am a bit frustrated to not only not know what the trigger was, nor do I remember the why. Everything is just a black space with no rhyme nor reason.

I was transported to one hospital, and they left me on the stretcher for over 5 hours without any care. No one pumped my stomach. No one tried to flush my system, they essentially left me there to die... finishing my overdose and subsequential suicide. I don't know how I did it, but I got off the stretcher and went home. Again, I have zero clue how I managed it, but I did.

Two days later, I called a crisis line that works with people like me. I told them I was not suicidal, but I felt hopeless. I felt that the medical field doesn't give a rat's ass and didn't feel like returning to the hospital, but the trip was necessary because taking that many pills has screwed with my kidneys, and I was in dire pain.

When I got to the ER, the doctor just tossed me in the corner, hooked me up to IV, only administering fluids from 9pm until 8:30 the following morning. I was sent for ultrasounds and an EKG. Yes, wooohoo, I was once again suffering from those wonderful things called kidney stones and because of my reluctance to use any type of opiates (that's a story for another day), I was left there to suffer through it. It took a woman who had been on a stretcher for the past few days because there were no beds in the cardio wing... She got off her bed and walked over to the nurses' station and demanded someone see me..

She was definitely a Godsend because the doctor came over immediately and I was given the medications I needed. My urologist seen me and I kinda knew I was up shit's creek at that point (yup another kidney surgery); but then I was hit with something I never thought would be an issue... They sent me right away for an EKG and let's just say it looks like my heart is fucked too :(

After all that, I was furious because I had been asking to see psych from the time the EMTs came to get me in my apartment. (That is another story in itself). Well the doctor who saw me at 9p, kept saying I could go see my family doctor. I looked at her and said I am literally BEGGING for help; something that is very difficult for me, and I was being brushed off. I was not having it, I told her if she didn't get me in to psych, I will literally check myself into West 5th and deal with it there. She scoffed at me and left me in the corner.

Again, thankfully the new shift doctor had psych come evaluate me and they suggested a place for me to go to. I told them I know that I need help, but I cannot be locked up. Psych agreed and made the referral, only for the ED doctor to cancel it, saying I needed to see psych at the hospital. If you have never experienced anything like that, its like being placed in prison, they take all your belongings and then scan you like they would at an airport AFTER they slam and lock a couple set of heavy steel doors behind you. Fortunately, I was there of my own free will and not "formed" as they like to call it.

I was placed in a room, but the door remained open because the specialist who seen me, told them I am there of my own free will. I was seen quickly and again referred to this crisis center that was not locked down, you could come and go as you pleased. Staff (crisis workers) held onto residents' meds and didn't force us to take them, as we were responsible to remember them and when to take them. 

After my hospital stay, I was taken to the crisis center and I stayed the full length of time because I needed to rebuild my strength... both physically, emotionally and mentally; and I needed to do it in a safe space. After 6 days there, I felt comfortable enough to go home, with the help of a safety plan arranged with people I trust.

That's my story, but there is something behind it that I must add. Most of my life, I have been told that suicide is weak, and its the coward's way out. This is NOT the truth. I think the cowards are the people who see their friends or family suffering, but can't be bothered to step in, or at least be just a shoulder or an ear. It takes an incredibly strong person to fight back from a suicide attempt, or a dozen or more of them. Each time we are knocked down, we somehow come back from death's door, to live another day.... don't tell me that isn't a REAL WARRIOR!!!

I had to face some people today and reveal what happened... their first reaction was, "That was the wrong thing to do!!!" Let me explain this is layman's terms... we all fucking know it's the wrong, but in the moment of the depths of despair all we want in that moment is to no longer be in pain. We are not thinking of our loved ones nor anyone at that point, all we focus on is the pain that doesn't go away. I can only speak for myself, but I am pretty sure most have the same mentality.

I guess what I am trying to get out is this... please stop and take a moment. Check on your loved ones. Let them express what is needed, no matter how "silly" or "dumb" it seems to you; it might be the hardest thing in their life at the moment. We all react to things differently, so what is minor to me, could be major to another, and vice versa. It really took these past few months to truly grasp who is there for me, and who is just using words.

It's odd because in my heart I always knew who truly is family to me; it was my head that couldn't accept that. I had been disappointed, or disappointing my entire life, so YES, I still struggle with the concept of anyone loving me, but I am learning... some people are just as stubborn as me and will never give up on me... for them I am eternally grateful. THANK YOU!!!