The last few days have been interesting and busy. I have started my partial inpatient program. It is going pretty well. I share more than I thought I would. Mostly the sharing is helpful but today was disastrous. More about that later. On Tuesday we signed the boys up for traditional public school and then they started on Wednesday. They both love it. Getting them up and ready in the morning has been stressful but not as bad as I had expected. The kids have all been sick but Lily is the last one hanging onto it. I have managed to avoid it all together, thank God. My doc upped my seroquel which is very obviously helping with the suicidal/self-damaging thoughts and impulses. Tonight I start an additional anti-depressant called Wellbutrin. It is supposed to boost my dopamine which is not being boosted by the Effexor.
Probably the most interesting thing that has happened is that my sister called an Exorcist. it turns out that the priest who married my husband and I is one of only two priests in my diocese who performs deliverances and exorcisms. I, of course, will not have an exorcism but a deliverance. I am not clear on the distinctions and differences in the ceremonies but I do know that deliverance is for an oppression where exorcism is for a full possession. So that will happen on Sunday. If you are the praying type, feel free to join the service from afar around 2pm PST.
Back to today being horrible. It started yesterday. I am in a great deal of pain. I think the pain has a hormonal/menstrual source, though I am still not cycling. I think I am going to have to give in and make a GYN appointment :-( I don't want to know. I don't want to know that I am carrying an organized clot (which I think I am) and, more, I don't want to find out I cannot have any more children (which I think is likely as my system has been screwed up for years now). Today in one group the leader and a member started spouting off about how selfish suicide is and how she'll never forgive her brother for doing it and on and on. I actually got up and walked out. Not my most mature moment but I could not handle it anymore at that moment. They were going on and on about how life isn't that bad and how it makes other people hurt just to alleviate your own pain. Well, kiss my ass, pardon my French. I do not want to die because I am in pain. I want to die because it would make my loved ones' lives better. And while some people never get over suicide, my family is Catholic and our faith teaches us that suffering can be offered up and unify us with Christ on the cross. "Don't waste your suffering!" as John Paul the Great said. So then after doing myself a little damage I sat in the sunshine and just breathed. I was proud of myself for not running into the street, which was my primary impulse. When I had collected myself I went back in only to be sidetracked by my psychologist account manager. We talked for a long time, which was cathartic and helpful. She helped reframe some of the "fruitier" aspects of the DBT program they are teaching me. Then we ended the day with a "mindfulness exercise" involving Pop Rocks. I giggled like a little kid. I felt more myself in that moment than I have in a very long time. I decided to pick up some Pop Rocks on my way home but none of the stores I checked sold them. You would not believe how much that depressed me. I just crawled in bed when I got home. I wish I was there now in all honesty.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
God Bless all who read this.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Continued
The day after the attempt was an interesting day. I gave my confession and received communion, which was a blessing. They had me on 1:1 which meant I had a staff member with me at all times. Even in the bathroom. They also gave me a new medicine to try t do away with the thoughts. That drug put me out. I woke up when my Mama came for a visit. Seeing her was nice but it left me sad. That night the thoughts were terrible. I couldn't sleep and all I could think of was how this mess for my family would be over if I was gone. Even with the staff member in my room watching over me I was able to fashion a garrote from a sock and a toothbrush. I was in bed this time so I could just tighten it and fall asleep. Apparently my breathing sounded strange so my babysitter discovered the garrote. I was put in a room by myself and put on arms reach where my babysitter had to be, well, within arms reach at all times. All my possessions except my books were taken away.
This attempt was a turning point for me. Before this I really didn't feel like a belonged in the hospital. Realizing how close I had come to actually killing myself hit me hard. It was sort of hitting rock bottom for me. The days following that were a slow start uphill. I was released four days after the second attempt when my 7-14 day legal hold was lifted. I was scared to come home but could not wait to see my kids.
Homecoming was lovely. My kids were so happy and snuggly. It felt otherworldly. Sleeping in a real bed was great. It became very apparent very quickly how barely started my journey up the hill to wellness is. Today I have hurt myself and by last night I already had a new plan. I would have succeeded in killing myself today had I my door not jammed in my car. That scares the pee out of part me and just violently irritates the other part of me. My Mama asked me if I will be safe for tonight. I don't know. I just don't know.
God Bless all who read this.
This attempt was a turning point for me. Before this I really didn't feel like a belonged in the hospital. Realizing how close I had come to actually killing myself hit me hard. It was sort of hitting rock bottom for me. The days following that were a slow start uphill. I was released four days after the second attempt when my 7-14 day legal hold was lifted. I was scared to come home but could not wait to see my kids.
Homecoming was lovely. My kids were so happy and snuggly. It felt otherworldly. Sleeping in a real bed was great. It became very apparent very quickly how barely started my journey up the hill to wellness is. Today I have hurt myself and by last night I already had a new plan. I would have succeeded in killing myself today had I my door not jammed in my car. That scares the pee out of part me and just violently irritates the other part of me. My Mama asked me if I will be safe for tonight. I don't know. I just don't know.
God Bless all who read this.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
I'm out
I am out of inpatient. They released me from inpatient yesterday and I will start Partial Inpatient on Monday. I will spend 6 hours a day at the hospital in intensive individual therapy and group class on a program called Dialectical Behavioral Therapy. I hope it is enough. As of right now I have a new plan and the thoughts are persistent if I am not strongly distracted.
So here is a rundown of how the stay went:
The stay started with stress because I got there and they hadn't even called my insurance company yet. So I waited in the lobby for a couple of hours, alone and crying, afraid they wouldn't approve my stay. Finally they did. I then sat in the lobby for a nother couple hours waiting for them to find me a bed. I was supposed to be on the Behavioral Unit (CBU) but there were not beds there so I was put on the Intensive Therapy Unit (ITU) with the psychotic and violent patients. It was terrifying and lonely and made me feel even crazier. I did a great deal of crying that first night. Blessedly a dear friend came to visit that night and gave me a break from feeling alone and scared. Nighttime was bad as i try to lay between a bipolar woman berating me for snoring while talking incessantly and a psychotic woman randomly complaining about being from another planet and the doctors attempting to poison her. While in the rest room the dark thoughts over came me and I slammed my head into a wall which calmed me some and I went to sleep. The next day I was very lost and uncomfortable. We had a violent guy on the floor which disrupted most of the schedule. The thoughts were always there in the lulls and quiet time. They overcame me several times that day. That evening the staff caught me in action, fed me an Ambien and put me to bed. The third day was horrible. The violent guy had to be corralled by staff more than once in order to be given medication so his endless stream of violent obscenities would stop. I had by then made a couple of friends and my husband came to see me but I was getting no real help and the families were all so sad and stressed. As I was sitting reading the Bible and praying that night the thoughts were the strongest they had ever been. I tried to kill myself. I fashioned a garrote out of a kerchief and high lighter. When I had tightened it enough, I went to climb into my bed about 2 feet away. My foot caught on the chair in which I was sitting and I fell. The staff, and one of my roommates, rushed in and took away my tools. Once again I was given an Ambien and put to bed. During the night my belongings were sorted and many things were taken away.
More tomorrow....
God Bless All who read this.
So here is a rundown of how the stay went:
The stay started with stress because I got there and they hadn't even called my insurance company yet. So I waited in the lobby for a couple of hours, alone and crying, afraid they wouldn't approve my stay. Finally they did. I then sat in the lobby for a nother couple hours waiting for them to find me a bed. I was supposed to be on the Behavioral Unit (CBU) but there were not beds there so I was put on the Intensive Therapy Unit (ITU) with the psychotic and violent patients. It was terrifying and lonely and made me feel even crazier. I did a great deal of crying that first night. Blessedly a dear friend came to visit that night and gave me a break from feeling alone and scared. Nighttime was bad as i try to lay between a bipolar woman berating me for snoring while talking incessantly and a psychotic woman randomly complaining about being from another planet and the doctors attempting to poison her. While in the rest room the dark thoughts over came me and I slammed my head into a wall which calmed me some and I went to sleep. The next day I was very lost and uncomfortable. We had a violent guy on the floor which disrupted most of the schedule. The thoughts were always there in the lulls and quiet time. They overcame me several times that day. That evening the staff caught me in action, fed me an Ambien and put me to bed. The third day was horrible. The violent guy had to be corralled by staff more than once in order to be given medication so his endless stream of violent obscenities would stop. I had by then made a couple of friends and my husband came to see me but I was getting no real help and the families were all so sad and stressed. As I was sitting reading the Bible and praying that night the thoughts were the strongest they had ever been. I tried to kill myself. I fashioned a garrote out of a kerchief and high lighter. When I had tightened it enough, I went to climb into my bed about 2 feet away. My foot caught on the chair in which I was sitting and I fell. The staff, and one of my roommates, rushed in and took away my tools. Once again I was given an Ambien and put to bed. During the night my belongings were sorted and many things were taken away.
More tomorrow....
God Bless All who read this.
Friday, January 7, 2011
One more
I thought that last post would be my last before going inpatient but since I have not been able to get even a moment of sleep tonight (it is 5:16 am my time right now) I guess I will post here again as I have nothing else to do and can only play so many rounds of solitaire before I lose my mind. Oh wait, I already lost my mind. Until I...beat myself senseless. No wait, I've done that too. Ummmmmmm....moving on.
I am amazed at the number of things flying through my brain when I try to sleep tonight. First, as always, is the parade of guilt: Hitting my sister in the back when we were kids (she has back problems to this day, though she says they are from falling out of a hammock and RA), ruining my brother's surprise gift to me by guessing it (and the later event of ruining his gift giving excitement because I knew about ice cube lights), the untold number of people I led away from God when I thought I knew God's truth about homosexuality but did not, the pain I caused so many when I faked a suicide attempt in high school, the life long damage I've done to my kids because they have been living with a crazy depressed mother for 4 years, and on and on and on.
Then there is the rational brain berating me for being crazy: "She's right, just buck up and get over and don't make such a fuss!" "You are not special. God can forgive anyone so he can forgive you." "Do you have any idea how badly you have screwed over your boss?" "How much is this mess going to cost your parents?" And on and on and on.
Then there are the random flashes of life where I should have caught my mental illness before I was this far over the edge: Trembling and crying while my sister swaddled baby Guerren because there was cat hair on the blanket. My Mama trudging through my overgrown backyard to knock on my bedroom door because she new I had PPD and I was not answering the front door. Driving down Highway 99 and thinking I could just blow into the pylons.
Then, as always lately, the ideas that are better than this hospitalization: Driving off a cliff in the snowy Sierras where, even if I don't die in the crash, I'll freeze to death which wouldn't be so bad. Freezing to death you just fall asleep. Grabbing some cash out of an ATM getting on a bus and heading anywhere where I can't screw up my loved ones' lives anymore. Walking up Alpine and standing by the train tracks and just stepping out in front of it as it passes. Stabbing myself over and over until I am bleeding enough to exsanguinate. Just swallowing the whole bottle of Vicodin (though I admit that one scares me because it is so likely to leave me a vegetable instead of killing me).
These thoughts are always accompanied by thoughts of the various people who are going to take away my children.
Some of you may be thinking, "Aren't you Christian? Where's the prayer you idiot? Quit whining!" Well, all of these thoughts I have listed, which are just the tip of the ice berg because I have been laying in bed for HOURS, are occurring while I am praying. Tonight I have said numerous Our Fathers, Hail Marys, Divine Mercy Chaplets, Hail Holy Queens, Glory Bes and other random "conversational" prayers. These prayers are why, mixed in every once in awhile was a thought like, "St. Peter just up and abandoned his whole family to follow Jesus. I wonder if his in laws thought he was a jerk. Maybe I should walk away to start preaching on street corners. Then I wouldn't be hurting my family and I could be spreading the Good News."
It has been a long weird night. I hope the choice having been made and the action taken will allow me to sleep tonight.
God Bless all who read this.
I am amazed at the number of things flying through my brain when I try to sleep tonight. First, as always, is the parade of guilt: Hitting my sister in the back when we were kids (she has back problems to this day, though she says they are from falling out of a hammock and RA), ruining my brother's surprise gift to me by guessing it (and the later event of ruining his gift giving excitement because I knew about ice cube lights), the untold number of people I led away from God when I thought I knew God's truth about homosexuality but did not, the pain I caused so many when I faked a suicide attempt in high school, the life long damage I've done to my kids because they have been living with a crazy depressed mother for 4 years, and on and on and on.
Then there is the rational brain berating me for being crazy: "She's right, just buck up and get over and don't make such a fuss!" "You are not special. God can forgive anyone so he can forgive you." "Do you have any idea how badly you have screwed over your boss?" "How much is this mess going to cost your parents?" And on and on and on.
Then there are the random flashes of life where I should have caught my mental illness before I was this far over the edge: Trembling and crying while my sister swaddled baby Guerren because there was cat hair on the blanket. My Mama trudging through my overgrown backyard to knock on my bedroom door because she new I had PPD and I was not answering the front door. Driving down Highway 99 and thinking I could just blow into the pylons.
Then, as always lately, the ideas that are better than this hospitalization: Driving off a cliff in the snowy Sierras where, even if I don't die in the crash, I'll freeze to death which wouldn't be so bad. Freezing to death you just fall asleep. Grabbing some cash out of an ATM getting on a bus and heading anywhere where I can't screw up my loved ones' lives anymore. Walking up Alpine and standing by the train tracks and just stepping out in front of it as it passes. Stabbing myself over and over until I am bleeding enough to exsanguinate. Just swallowing the whole bottle of Vicodin (though I admit that one scares me because it is so likely to leave me a vegetable instead of killing me).
These thoughts are always accompanied by thoughts of the various people who are going to take away my children.
Some of you may be thinking, "Aren't you Christian? Where's the prayer you idiot? Quit whining!" Well, all of these thoughts I have listed, which are just the tip of the ice berg because I have been laying in bed for HOURS, are occurring while I am praying. Tonight I have said numerous Our Fathers, Hail Marys, Divine Mercy Chaplets, Hail Holy Queens, Glory Bes and other random "conversational" prayers. These prayers are why, mixed in every once in awhile was a thought like, "St. Peter just up and abandoned his whole family to follow Jesus. I wonder if his in laws thought he was a jerk. Maybe I should walk away to start preaching on street corners. Then I wouldn't be hurting my family and I could be spreading the Good News."
It has been a long weird night. I hope the choice having been made and the action taken will allow me to sleep tonight.
God Bless all who read this.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Tomorrow is the day
Tomorrow morning I go into the hospital. I am dreading it and can't wait all at once.
Tonight has been rough with my folks home. My Mama wants to talk and that makes me want to drive an icepick in my ear and hug her all at once. My kids have decided that tonight is the night to disobey every direction and request. I have actually thought about just walking to the hospital tonight.
I know very few people read this blog and the ones who do probably know me and are praying already, but if not, please pray for me. I will only get through this if I can overcome my pride and lay fully on the arm of the Lord. For that I need grace so please, please pray for me.
God Bless all who read this.
Tonight has been rough with my folks home. My Mama wants to talk and that makes me want to drive an icepick in my ear and hug her all at once. My kids have decided that tonight is the night to disobey every direction and request. I have actually thought about just walking to the hospital tonight.
I know very few people read this blog and the ones who do probably know me and are praying already, but if not, please pray for me. I will only get through this if I can overcome my pride and lay fully on the arm of the Lord. For that I need grace so please, please pray for me.
God Bless all who read this.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
God is good
Today I had my meeting with my priest and gave my confession and was anointed. Even though I know it I am always amazed at the peace the sacraments bring with them. I thank God for loving me when I am feeling so unlovable.
What today did not do was wipe out the suicidal thoughts. My brain is still constantly turning with the plan and the hatred of myself. For now I am peaceful. God's grace is holding the thoughts in a sort of balance so they are not spinning out of control. It is sort of like my depression car is driving in town instead of screaming down the highway like it has been.
I feel hopeful that I will be able to accept and take in the help I will be given at the hospital.
God Bless all who read this.
What today did not do was wipe out the suicidal thoughts. My brain is still constantly turning with the plan and the hatred of myself. For now I am peaceful. God's grace is holding the thoughts in a sort of balance so they are not spinning out of control. It is sort of like my depression car is driving in town instead of screaming down the highway like it has been.
I feel hopeful that I will be able to accept and take in the help I will be given at the hospital.
God Bless all who read this.
I shouldn't post this here
but it is the middle of the night and I have no one to talk to without ruining someone else's day.
I was having a pretty good day today. I was then having trouble sleeping, as always of late, and I got up. As is my habit lately, I can think of little other than suicide. After doing some online reading I decided to try something. I decided to write my goodbye note to my loved ones. I thought it would make suicide seem as ridiculous as my rational mind knows it should be. But the fact is that everyone I know would be better with me gone. My kids would be raised by better people than I. My husband could find a wife he could be proud of. My family would be out of the financial nightmare I buried them in. My parents could enjoy their retirement without having to worry what embarrassment I am going to heap on them next. My siblings would not longer have to explain to their children why Aunt Carie is such a pathetic mess.
Why am I putting everyone through the time and trouble of putting me in a hospital and drugging me up just to put me back into the world as a burden to everyone?
I've been afraid of crashing my car ever since it was pointed out to me that I could hurt someone else. I was thinking tonight, though, that there is a turn on the way to my family campground that could solve that problem. It is the scariest road I ever have to drive on. But there is a reasonable straight away just before the sharp blind curve to the left and there is no guard rail. If I accelerate and just don't make the turn I would fly right off the cliff and there is nothing below but the side of the mountain. Highway four goes way of to the left before it turns back so there would be no other cars or drivers in my path. If I turn off the airbags and don't wear a seat belt there is no way I would survive. I might even have a heart attack when I am airborne or in free fall.
None of this, of course, is an actual serious plan. My plan is to enter inpatient care on Friday. This post is just a speculation because so much of what is posted online claims that a car accident cannot be planned to not hurt other people.
I was having a pretty good day today. I was then having trouble sleeping, as always of late, and I got up. As is my habit lately, I can think of little other than suicide. After doing some online reading I decided to try something. I decided to write my goodbye note to my loved ones. I thought it would make suicide seem as ridiculous as my rational mind knows it should be. But the fact is that everyone I know would be better with me gone. My kids would be raised by better people than I. My husband could find a wife he could be proud of. My family would be out of the financial nightmare I buried them in. My parents could enjoy their retirement without having to worry what embarrassment I am going to heap on them next. My siblings would not longer have to explain to their children why Aunt Carie is such a pathetic mess.
Why am I putting everyone through the time and trouble of putting me in a hospital and drugging me up just to put me back into the world as a burden to everyone?
I've been afraid of crashing my car ever since it was pointed out to me that I could hurt someone else. I was thinking tonight, though, that there is a turn on the way to my family campground that could solve that problem. It is the scariest road I ever have to drive on. But there is a reasonable straight away just before the sharp blind curve to the left and there is no guard rail. If I accelerate and just don't make the turn I would fly right off the cliff and there is nothing below but the side of the mountain. Highway four goes way of to the left before it turns back so there would be no other cars or drivers in my path. If I turn off the airbags and don't wear a seat belt there is no way I would survive. I might even have a heart attack when I am airborne or in free fall.
None of this, of course, is an actual serious plan. My plan is to enter inpatient care on Friday. This post is just a speculation because so much of what is posted online claims that a car accident cannot be planned to not hurt other people.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Mostly better
Today was mostly better. I didn't get as much done as I wanted to get done, but I did get some stuff done and I am not in the state I was in last night. That alone is enough to make this a good day. Last night I didn't think I was going to make it to Friday. Now I feel like I can. Tomorrow I see my priest which I think will really bring a lot of peace. Going to confession always brings me a sense of peace. I think getting to spend some time in prayer with Father Matthew and making my confession and receiving the blessing or anointing will fortify me a great deal.
An aspect of this depression I have avoided talking about because I find it so shameful is my relationship with God. For a long time I have felt unforgivable. I know that is an insult to God on several levels, which just reinforces the feeling. I am a proud Catholic. I know and love my Lord. I know his infinite grace and love and forgiveness. I know there is nothing I can do that is too great for him to love me and forgive me and I know there is nothing I can do that has not been done by others before me. This being true, my belief in my unlovable-ness is violently egotistical, which, again, reinforces my belief. And even as I type this I know in my rational mind that it sound stupid and ridiculous. But there you have it.
One big factor is that I know I have led people away from God. When I left the Church in my college years, and even before then when I was just vocally speaking against some of her teachings, I didn't just hurt myself. People depended on me for right information about God and salvation and I lead them wrong. I started a trend at my high school that has only gotten more and more prevalent leading kids to heresy and sin and away from the Truth.
Another big factor is the fact that I do not go to mass every week. Sometimes I try, sometimes I don't even do that. The thought of going to mass literally liquefies my bowels (sorry TMI). When I do make it to mass I am either in serious physical pain or I am drugged out on pain medicine. Mass is not the only public event I avoid. I try to avoid large groups of people as much as I can. I get very agitated and sweaty. But none of that really matters. Jesus said do this in memory of me and I don't.
So tomorrow will be wrenching and cleansing and hopefully will leave me steady and ready to do what I need to do when I get to the hospital.
God Bless all who read this.
An aspect of this depression I have avoided talking about because I find it so shameful is my relationship with God. For a long time I have felt unforgivable. I know that is an insult to God on several levels, which just reinforces the feeling. I am a proud Catholic. I know and love my Lord. I know his infinite grace and love and forgiveness. I know there is nothing I can do that is too great for him to love me and forgive me and I know there is nothing I can do that has not been done by others before me. This being true, my belief in my unlovable-ness is violently egotistical, which, again, reinforces my belief. And even as I type this I know in my rational mind that it sound stupid and ridiculous. But there you have it.
One big factor is that I know I have led people away from God. When I left the Church in my college years, and even before then when I was just vocally speaking against some of her teachings, I didn't just hurt myself. People depended on me for right information about God and salvation and I lead them wrong. I started a trend at my high school that has only gotten more and more prevalent leading kids to heresy and sin and away from the Truth.
Another big factor is the fact that I do not go to mass every week. Sometimes I try, sometimes I don't even do that. The thought of going to mass literally liquefies my bowels (sorry TMI). When I do make it to mass I am either in serious physical pain or I am drugged out on pain medicine. Mass is not the only public event I avoid. I try to avoid large groups of people as much as I can. I get very agitated and sweaty. But none of that really matters. Jesus said do this in memory of me and I don't.
So tomorrow will be wrenching and cleansing and hopefully will leave me steady and ready to do what I need to do when I get to the hospital.
God Bless all who read this.
Today is going to be better
I know it is late in the day but I wanted to post this anyway. I had some energy when I woke up this morning so I have done some laundry and other cleaning. I have some work I have to do for my (?) job today then I plan to play games with the kids this evening. It will not get as bad tonight as it was last night. It can't.
Tomorrow afternoon I have an appointment with my priest. I am hopeful this will bring some peace and courage.
I know I am supposed to write in this blog as part of my therapy but still I wonder why I do it. it feels very exhibitionist. It does serve as a bit of a release valve. it is also helpful for me to get my thoughts out of my head. They are somehow easier to manipulate once they are not bouncing around in the confines of my skull. This, I suppose, is also a place where I have a modicum of control still. In so much of my life i feel like I am watching a movie of my life rather than living it. This blog is my creation entirely. And yet, I feel like I am somehow glorifying myself and this depression by putting it into words. When I started this blog it was both for therapeutic reasons and in hopes of making someone, somewhere not feel as alone I have. I feel less like that is a possibility and more like this is an experiment in egocentricity. Of course this whole situation feels like an exercise in egocentricity.
Anyway, tonight will be better. Because I command it. And I am that powerful.
God Bless all who read this.
Tomorrow afternoon I have an appointment with my priest. I am hopeful this will bring some peace and courage.
I know I am supposed to write in this blog as part of my therapy but still I wonder why I do it. it feels very exhibitionist. It does serve as a bit of a release valve. it is also helpful for me to get my thoughts out of my head. They are somehow easier to manipulate once they are not bouncing around in the confines of my skull. This, I suppose, is also a place where I have a modicum of control still. In so much of my life i feel like I am watching a movie of my life rather than living it. This blog is my creation entirely. And yet, I feel like I am somehow glorifying myself and this depression by putting it into words. When I started this blog it was both for therapeutic reasons and in hopes of making someone, somewhere not feel as alone I have. I feel less like that is a possibility and more like this is an experiment in egocentricity. Of course this whole situation feels like an exercise in egocentricity.
Anyway, tonight will be better. Because I command it. And I am that powerful.
God Bless all who read this.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Back again
I had such good intentions to get to sleep early tonight. It did not work out that way, as you can see.
Tonight was bad. If I could have worked out a way for my kids to have been cared for I would have gone to the hospital tonight. But my husband will get in trouble if he calls in sick because he had to take so much time when I lost Charlie and was in and out of the hospital. I resorted to hurting myself, which I know is not good, but it was better than the alternative.
Please God, grant me the strength to hang on until Friday or even Thursday. Grant me the strength to go through with this necessary step. Grant me the humility to understand and accept the tools that will be given to me there.
God Bless all who read this.
Tonight was bad. If I could have worked out a way for my kids to have been cared for I would have gone to the hospital tonight. But my husband will get in trouble if he calls in sick because he had to take so much time when I lost Charlie and was in and out of the hospital. I resorted to hurting myself, which I know is not good, but it was better than the alternative.
Please God, grant me the strength to hang on until Friday or even Thursday. Grant me the strength to go through with this necessary step. Grant me the humility to understand and accept the tools that will be given to me there.
God Bless all who read this.
Courageous?
So I had my appointments today. My PCP adjusted my meds and extended my leave. The hospital thinks I need at minimum partial hospitalization (which would basically mean I would eat dinner and sleep at home) but full inpatient would be better. I spent most of those appointments convincing people that I would not hurt myself between today and Friday. I promised all parties that I would not do anything and would show up Friday morning. Keeping that promise is proving difficult this evening.
Then I went to my shrink and he said I was courageous. Courageous? I think that is the fruitiest thing he has said so far. He said I was courageous but then he was afraid to delve any too deeply for fear of setting off the suicidal thoughts. Little does he know that I spend my days googling methods that could appear to be accidental and pulling my hair out. I find myself hoping that the ache in my skull means that the damage I did to it last week has caused a slow bleed that will eventually kill me. I wasn't trying to kill myself when I hit my head but it would be ironic if death worked out to be an unintended side effect. Then it will have done its job of calming me in the moment and then gone above and beyond its duty.
My son was playing car pirates tonight and he sang, "what do you do with a scurvy pirate?" He then said in his sweet big guy voice, "I would kill my mommy." Seems like a sign, don't you think?
God Bless all who read this.
Then I went to my shrink and he said I was courageous. Courageous? I think that is the fruitiest thing he has said so far. He said I was courageous but then he was afraid to delve any too deeply for fear of setting off the suicidal thoughts. Little does he know that I spend my days googling methods that could appear to be accidental and pulling my hair out. I find myself hoping that the ache in my skull means that the damage I did to it last week has caused a slow bleed that will eventually kill me. I wasn't trying to kill myself when I hit my head but it would be ironic if death worked out to be an unintended side effect. Then it will have done its job of calming me in the moment and then gone above and beyond its duty.
My son was playing car pirates tonight and he sang, "what do you do with a scurvy pirate?" He then said in his sweet big guy voice, "I would kill my mommy." Seems like a sign, don't you think?
God Bless all who read this.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Is it the same?
I was chatting with a dear friend this evening and I told her that it is not so much that I want to kill myself as it is that I do not want to be alive. When the suicidal thoughts I refer to come around those are specific thoughts of killing myself. Today however is just a general dismay at the reality that I am a burden in this world. Someone said to me recently that I like to play the victim. I very much do not comprehend that comment. Someone who is a victim believes s/he has no part in the nightmare that s/he lives in. That could not be more untrue for me. I know that I am the problem.
I hate being the problem. I hate being the person my family has to handle. My parents are just beginning retirement, why should they have to worry about their adult child like this? My sister and her family are off on a new chapter in their life, why should they have to call to check on and worry about me? My beautiful babies are such sweet, precious little people. Why should their whole lives be burdened by a crazy mother?
So much effort to help one person just to burden so many others. I made a promise so I will see it through but it seems wrong to me.
I hate being the problem. I hate being the person my family has to handle. My parents are just beginning retirement, why should they have to worry about their adult child like this? My sister and her family are off on a new chapter in their life, why should they have to call to check on and worry about me? My beautiful babies are such sweet, precious little people. Why should their whole lives be burdened by a crazy mother?
So much effort to help one person just to burden so many others. I made a promise so I will see it through but it seems wrong to me.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
The countdown begins
I have appointments with my shrink, my doc and the hospital on Monday.
I am hopeful and terrified at the same time. I am hopeful that the focus and intensive therapy will get me back to my normal self again. I am terrified for a whole host of reasons.
First it scares me that this is what I really need. I know that makes no sense but I am not used to being, well, crazy. PPD was one thing. It was contained and had a definitive source and usually a definitive end. This nebulous bouncing from nearly normal to suicidal is uncomfortable. Also, I am scared this isn't what I really need. If I am wrong in the head, how can I trust my experience of what is going on there? In my rational mind I know it is not normal to think constantly about plunging a knife into one's own chest or ear or to want to drive off the freeway. In my rational mind I know that I cannot going on feeling that my family would be better off without me..
And that right there is my biggest fear. We are going to go through all this time and expense, and I may lose my job, and I just don't think it is worth it. Most all of the people in my day to day life would be better off without me. Their lives would be substantively improved by my absence, even those who would have a temporary upset from the loss. How can I ask them, then, to go to so much trouble to keep me here?
I wish most forms of suicide were not so flagrantly evident. Of course, since everyone knows I am suicidal, I could have a genuine car accident and they will probably think it is suicide anyway.
I need to make an appointment with my priest. I need to have my confession heard and get the anointing of the sick.
Please for God's will in my life.
God Bless all who read this.
I am hopeful and terrified at the same time. I am hopeful that the focus and intensive therapy will get me back to my normal self again. I am terrified for a whole host of reasons.
First it scares me that this is what I really need. I know that makes no sense but I am not used to being, well, crazy. PPD was one thing. It was contained and had a definitive source and usually a definitive end. This nebulous bouncing from nearly normal to suicidal is uncomfortable. Also, I am scared this isn't what I really need. If I am wrong in the head, how can I trust my experience of what is going on there? In my rational mind I know it is not normal to think constantly about plunging a knife into one's own chest or ear or to want to drive off the freeway. In my rational mind I know that I cannot going on feeling that my family would be better off without me..
And that right there is my biggest fear. We are going to go through all this time and expense, and I may lose my job, and I just don't think it is worth it. Most all of the people in my day to day life would be better off without me. Their lives would be substantively improved by my absence, even those who would have a temporary upset from the loss. How can I ask them, then, to go to so much trouble to keep me here?
I wish most forms of suicide were not so flagrantly evident. Of course, since everyone knows I am suicidal, I could have a genuine car accident and they will probably think it is suicide anyway.
I need to make an appointment with my priest. I need to have my confession heard and get the anointing of the sick.
Please for God's will in my life.
God Bless all who read this.
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