Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Suicide Awareness and My Story

I mentioned this in my post about Dakota but on October 30th/November 1st I experienced three different seizures. Today, almost a year later, I’m ready to tell my story or confess if you wanna call it that. 

October 30th, j and I did what we do so often and went to Frickers and started drinking. Good chance we had started prior to this but honestly Frickers is the only part of the day I remember. Apparently, we ended up at some party out in the sticks (at some point I text my best friend with my location and begged her to come get me) and after getting in a huge fight with J, I left. 

From the pieces I’ve put together it went kind of like this: I left the party, went back to my best friends house where I was staying, then left sometime later and went back to Js and crawled into bed. 

I woke up two days later in a hospital bed with a “fall risk” bracelet, a catheter, and IV having zero idea what happened or how I got there. I remember when I woke up the nurse asked me my name, the date, who the president was, and what year was it. I knew my name, the date was written on a board behind her so I read it, and I knew the president but then I couldn’t come up with the year. It was like my brain was just fried and I was stumbling through fog and grasping at nothing to remember things. I finally said “2014” which was obviously wrong. 

I was stuck in the hospital for 5 days total I believe. It’s still real hard for me to remember things. J had to tell me what happened: 

Apparently we were laying in bed and I started seizing and convulsing. He called to his mom in the next room and she called the ambulance that took me to Paulding hospital. While there I had a second seizure and they sent me in an ambulance to Parkview. During the trip I had my third seizure. After drug screenings, blood work, and scans they couldn’t find anything wrong with me. Everything checked out and they had to let me go. My license was suspended until they could do a three month follow up. 

My mom and my sister had flown/driven up from Tennessee and Louisiana to be with me and J was there as much as he could be. My mom drove me back to my friends house and walked me in and I remembered. I continued to lie and go with the “someone prolly drugged me or my drink” theory. 

I suffer from bipolar depression. It runs in my family and I struggle with self harm (I got the scars to prove it) not for attention (though maybe it was a cry for help because I’ve never known how to ask or accept help) but because I need the distraction. I can deal with physical pain, I always have, but emotional pain is just too much for me. I’d rather have blood running down my arm, tending to a wound I caused then have to deal with my own emotional demons. 

That’s what happened. J and I used to fight a lot back then. Our relationship was as toxic as it got. We were both alcoholics and mean drunks to go with our short tempers. But I could never imagine my life with J. But every fight made it clearer and clearer that I deserved better and he didn’t care about my feelings when he drank. That fight pushed me over the edge. 

I gave up. I was done

On top of the toxic relationship I had a bunch of money issues, hated my job, and just life in general especially since the miscarriage a few months before. A year or so prior I was prescribed Wellbutrin for my anxiety and to help me quit smoking. I never like the way the pills made me feel so I didn’t take them after a week or so. That was the way I decided I wanted to go out that night. A handful of pills. 

I should be dead. Had I not gone to Js that morning I probably would be. My roommates wouldn’t have any reason to check on me. I would’ve seized out and died alone. 

But I didn’t and here I am.

Suicide and depression are not a joke. Not something made up in your head or something people can just turn off. It’s pure torture to feel that low to the point you would rather be dead. 

Having made it out to this side of an unsuccessful attempt, I’m not gonna say that I’ve changed my ways and become a whole new person because I really haven’t. However, I appreciate the little things a lot more. More than anything I appreciate my daughter. I’m not gonna say it was god or the universe or some other being but for some reason she came after such a horrible time in my life and if that doesn’t make a person believe that “everything happens for a reason and in its own time” I don’t know what will.

If any of you reading this are feeling down or suicidal PLEASE reach out. My contact info is in the tab above, I’d be more than happy to listen, or if you know me in the real world we can get food and you can just vent. Y’all are not alone. LET PEOPLE HELP. Suicide doesn’t end the pain.. just passes it to the ones you love.

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

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