Trigger warning talk of suicide attempt hospitalization seizures
Today is November tenth. It’s three years to the day that I almost attempted suicide. Because a seizure from welbutrin, a medication that’s supposed to help with depression pushed my brain chemistry just that last bit over the edge. Because I’m a sensitive emotional person who processes things differently from others. And I had no outlet for all the emotions I had been dealing with since moving states and creating a whole new life for myself. I had staff at my facility trying to tell me things would be just fine if I just exercised, went back to college, was around people more, didn’t take things so personally etc etc. One person who said these things was also a bit anti-meds which didn’t help. So I was self-injuring several times a day. And trying to keep it together in my many projects.
I just couldn’t run away from myself forever. I never ever thought I’d be suicidal in my life. Because my mom used suicide threats to emotionally abuse my dad and generally seek attention. I do believe somewhere she was truly suicidal. And sadly she wouldn’t acknowledge this when I did finally tell her what really happened. I know she does have mental illness of her own including depression. I just never felt my life would come to that.
That’s why when it happened I truly felt like the intire thing came from outside of me. Like the plan just dropped fully formed into my mind on the way home from the hospital after the seizure where they bvrushed me off and didn’t care that I was a sobbing mess but couldn’t say why. Along with the plan came a feeling of peace. I wasn’t afraid at all. I had so much built up in me, everything I said above plus what was really pushing me was the first visit home. My parents had booked me to go home for two weeks. This was after not seeing them since 2012. In spite of everything I thought would happen, things not improving at all really. And no matter how I tried to rationalize it and tried not to take things too much to heart and everything people said I couldn’t help having the same anxiety I always felt when having to go back there for a school vacation.
This brought up other underlying feelings. The plan I mean, and the peaceful feeling. I realized I’ve frelt for a long time like I stole the show as a special needs child. And even though I was traumatized by our home life if mom was having a bad day I might get brushed off but I at least was always taken wherever I needed to go. There were times sadly where my sister wasn’t. I thought if I was gone she could finally have a good life and not have me hanging over everything. It’s like every single issue I had in life was solved right then.
Jonathan said it was dissociation what my mind did. That that’s the only way I could accept the idea of wanting to kill myself to feel like it was coming from outside of me. Anyway the stars must have lined up or whatever because as the story goes the anti-med nurse happened to be hospitalizing another resident on our floor. Past time for her to go home. You remember this is by no means a nursing. One medical issue a day is really really rare never mind two. I broke glass to cut myself with. I broke this precious moments angel statue first. But it was just clay. The admitting nurse at the hospital said that was Carma LOL! And then I took apart a picture frame and broke that. It’s actually the first time I’ve ever broken glass I think. No wait there was this other time I had this ceramic bird that was supposed to go in this little straw basket and before my mom could finish telling me I couldn’t toss it around in my hands I did and it broke. I was like where is it? She’s like it’s gone you broke it!
Anyway. So the nurse heard the noise. With her was a CAN Jay who was also a psych tech somewhere funny enough. He saw me try and sneak a piece of glass. And it kind of all went downhill.
It was the worst feeling being caught. After all I really didn’t think I’d have to deal with ya know people’s reactions I didn’t think I’d have to face my life again. And I really felt I couldn’t. From that moment probably until I started working with Jonathan I felt broken. I felt like I wasn’t Sam anymore. And I didn’t know who I was. I said this, along with the whole thoughts coming from outside of me thing, to several professionals and they just clicked their pens and wrote away. Jonathan was the first one to validate my feelings and explain that I hadn’t lost my whole self because everything about my personality was the same. We spent an hour p picking over everything about me. What changed was I had lost all passion for life and was just existing. No one had put it better.
The day before thanksgiving when I finally was riding to Albany from the hospital after the huge tense fight where I almost didn’t get in anywhere, where they were thinking of just sending me back to friedman. All I could think was did I make the right decision? IGuess even in my shattered mind part of me wanted to live. Well what I wanted most was to leave the hospital. But anyway. I didn’t think I’d ever get a life back. I didn’t even want one. And I fought everyone every step of the way for a long long time. I had to start from square one about how I expressed myself in every way. Work on forming connections in my life again. Sadly a few people who I thought were my friends really weren’t. And said some terrible things that made it ten times worse. Lucky it was online and not in person still. I fought Jonathan the hardest because he was most invested in helping me. And then I met Jess. Two very unlikely friends. And that was a turning point. Because I saw her, so hurting herself and alone that I figured one more traumatic thing, this roommate girl even if she didn’t know her well, killing herself would probably just about do it. And I sure didn’t want to be responsible for any of that. Plus completely out of the blue to me, she just loved me. In fact said she’d die for me. I cried in absolute shock and just, shock! I don’t know when I started living again. Or when I started living for myself and not just her.
But by the end of the first year I think I was on a good path.
I told the people at my first hospitalization that if you’ve been suicidal once it marks you forever. I can’t even put it into words. Like you’ve taken yourself to the absolute edge of life. And no matter the outcome, as long as you lived through it you have a chance to start over because it really is a whole new life. Because your old life became nothing due to the pressure of everything held inside. It’s cemented some things for me. I’m glad I’m alive really glad. I will always think the misguided but lovable nurse and aid who saved me. And if my life hadn’t taken this turn I wouldn’t have met my older sister, who I think would have stayed on the downward path she was on herself had we not met. I’ve touched so many lives here I know that. My relationships are so much stronger especially with Robbie. I had hid so much from him obviously we lived in the same building and he never knew. Right away he understood self-harm after I sent him a couple of really well done youtube videos and articles. And he’s become the best mental health advocate ever! Lastly I don’t take life or my recovery for granted. Which is why I truly do have reason to be anxious and question thoroughly any move I were to make. Because I know the particular conditions I need to be myself and thrive. Those aren’t found many places. And I know how easily I can shut down and keep everything in until I explode inwardly.
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