!!!Trigger warning for suicide!!!
We have only just become friends though I fear they may have been with me for many years, bullying me.
I was only recently diagnosed as Bipolar type 2, I always had an idea that I might of had it but who goes to their GP and asks to be diagnosed with something so frightening? I had friend who had it and frankly it was terrifying watching their mood and behaviour changes. Who'd want to be that way? So I ignored it and went along with my depression and anxiety diagnoses from 16 till mid 20's. I began talking therapy and I was reassured that my moods and behaviours were due to extreme anxiety so we focused on managing the symptoms and triggers.
We made progress but I was still struggling to control my extreme mood changes. I was convinced it was me failing to use the skills my therapist had given me, I just wasn't good enough, why could I not manage something so simple?
She made it sound so easy. What a failure I was.
I really did feel broken and beyond help. I went back to my GP and asked to go back onto my anti depressants. I'm still shocked at how easy it was to get a hold of them. I'd rang my GP asking for a mental health check up, there were no appointments available so the GP rang me. It wasn't my usual GP, I hadn't seen this man for over 10 years! I explained I wanted to try medication again and he simply asked if I was aware they could make suicidal feelings more intense and asked if I was suicidal. I said no and that was it, he sent a months supply of my tablets through to my pharmacy for pick up that day.
Now I should mention this was April, the September previous I had taken a lethal overdose and had spent 3 days in hospital fighting for my life.
The GP clearly hadn't read my notes or he would of realised my usual GP would only give me 7 days worth of medication with weekly visits with her.
The truth is, I only rang my GP and asked for the medication because my intention was suicide. I knew what I needed to take to get there.
I visited my pharmacy and got my medication. The following day I went and purchased over the counter co-codamol. A few days later i went and purchased some more and then again a 3rd time. Nobody was any the wiser to my intentions. I was still going out with friends, using my social media, spending time with my son. Laughing, smiling, happy.
It was the following Sunday evening, I'd dropped my son off with his Dad and had become totally hysterical, the voices in my head telling me to harm myself and kill myself were at bursting point. I was worthless, I wasn't ment to be alive, I couldn't manage day to day life, I couldn't function in a work environment. What was the point? I reached out to a friend late in the night, I really didn't want to do this, I was afraid of dying but couldn't talk myself out of it, I wanted her to talk me out of it. She tried, so hard, and I will forever be thankful for her that night.
I took all the medications I had collected, which proved a lot harder than I imagined it would be, after the first 15 my body began trying to bring them back up but I carried on forcing them down 3 or 4 at a time, over and over till they were gone. I can still vividly remember that night. The feeling of my life leaving my body, I kept seeing an orange light flash across the inside of my eyelids as I laid in bed waiting for it. I lost the ability to move shortly after, but it wasn't uncomfortable or heavy. I felt at peace, the noise in my head had finally stopped for the first time in forever. I eventually drifted off.
I awoke 6 hours later feeling like I had been hit by a bus. My whole body felt stiff and my stomach was full of fire. Damn. Failed again. I laid there for around an hour just staring at the wall, I felt numb. What should I do? All the guilt of what I had done now struck me. What an idiot! Why didn't I ask for help sooner? How did I let it get this bad AGAIN?
I had an appointment with my therapist in an hours time, i'd never missed a session so she would know something was wrong if i didn't go, so I decided to just get up and get on with my day like nothing had happened. I was in absolute agony, I was white as a sheet, my eyes sunken and dark, breathing hurt and my stomach was still burning.
I walked to my appointment, waving and smiling at people I knew as I went. As I sat in the waiting room to be called in I contemplated what I would talk about in my session, I couldn't possibly tell her what I had done so I thought of random things that had happened the previous week and decided I'd discuss them.
It didn't go to plan. To this day I still can't say for certain why I disclosed what I had done to her so easily, I think it was a mixture of I had found somebody who seemed to genuinely care for my well being, I mattered and she could actually help me, finally! As soon as we had both sat down and she asked how things were I sighed, and confessed I had totally lost the will to live. "I took an overdose last night".
Things moved pretty quickly after that, I spoke with Crisis and took myself to A&E and was kept in hospital for several days to get the drugs out of my system and try limit the damage to my liver. The mental health team visited me and I was referred to the Intense Community Support team. I made myself a promise the day I was discharged that I would never let things get so bad again. I was going to get the help I clearly needed. I worked hard with my therapist for the rest of our time together and she suggested I visit my GP for a new diagnoses. These constant thoughts were troubling.
And now here I am. It has been a dark, difficult journey but I made it. I still can't be trusted with medications, Hungry Hippo and Bipolar Bear work together to convince me I should be dead. I'm slowly beginning to understand them and things are getting easier on a whole. I still have very dark days and I still try to do most things by myself, I understand the importance of a support network though and when I find myself hesitating over bridges, eyeing up medications or considering calling my GP for 'another try at the meds' I share with the Battle Scars community, my friends or my former therapist.
I imagine this may have being as difficult for you to read as it was for me to type.
It is important for me that I share this experiance with the world now as after it happened only myself, my therapist and 2 friends knew what I had done. My family, whom I live with, didn't even notice I was gone, nobody else around me realised what I had done. It makes me wonder how long it would of taken them to realise I was gone if I had succeeded.
If i hadn't made that promise to myself I could of tried this again, I made that promise for me, I don't want to die, my brain is sick and that is why I think and feel the way I do sometimes.
It is okay to not be okay, just don't unpack and live there.
Until next time,
stay safe, stay amazingđź’•
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