For the last 3 weeks I have been a patient at a mental health hospital on a inpatient basis. My family, nor I, ever realized how deep my depression was until after I woke up from a suicide attempt on June 30th. I had put two medications together, at high doses, that shouldn’t have been put together. I calmly passed out. To my surprise, I woke up later that next morning.
I know that suicide is not talked about in our society; it’s as if it is taboo. I do not talk about this to encourage, or make light of the subject, but to bring it out into the open. Everyone of us gets to a place in our day where we cannot make it through one more minute. When you are depressed, and you get to the point you cannot make it through one more minute, our brain does not shift into options of how to soothe and calm. Our brain shifts into hopelessness. If the depression is not treated it can easily shift into, I can’t live any longer.
I have been depressed for a long time. It became worse back in February 2016; when I began to have severe medical issues. I had been diagnosed with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), after my divorce in 2002. The week before my suicide attempt, I had to take multiple medical tests that were long and very draining. I had also learned that I had more medical issues than I originally thought. I had just received results from a test that my stomach was not moving the food out into my intestines.
Since February 15, 2017, I had only been able to keep 3 foods down. On June 24th 2017, I couldn’t keep any foods down anymore. I was working full time. I was physically weak, emotionally drained, and mentally exhausted. Each day I became weaker. I felt defeated and extremely broken.
I did not tell anyone how I was feeling; or what I was dealing with fully. The parts that I did share overwhelmed the individuals that I shared it with. I quickly learned not to share. I stuffed everything deep down. I wore the mask of, “All is Well”. I isolated myself; even from my children. I couldn’t handle watching my children see me suffer. I felt that I had no where to turn.
On July 3rd, I had an appointment with my counselor. She could tell that something was off. By the time that the session was over I had told her what I had done, and that I planned on getting it right the next chance I had. She immediately began calling my Bishop. I did not feel anything, as I listened to her conversation. I didn’t even choose to watch. Since it was a holiday, and she couldn’t get a plan put together, she had me sign a contract to not do any self harm. I also had to contract to keep my appointment the next week. The following week I was worse. My counselor did not waste anytime coordinating a way to get me to the mental hospital.
As I have participated in the programs at the hospital, the one thing that I have learned is, isolating yourself is the wrong thing to do. You are not a burden to those who know you. Be willing to reach out and share. Each of our lives, at times, will be filled with difficult things and we are not meant to handle them alone. Schedule “Me Time”, and do not feel guilty about it. Seek medical help when you feel that your life is getting beyond your control. Life will always be just “L I F E”. What we add to the spaces is what makes it easier or harder. Know that there are resources out there to assist you (see my resources tab).
I am still here for a reason. I do not know what that is, but I am willing to look at my life, and change my behavior, so that I can manage all that I have.