Monday June 2nd was my last posting for Diary of
a Bi Polar Woman. I was in a pharmaceutically induced horrid
downward Bi Polar rapid cycling low that I had not seen or experienced before. I didn’t think writing about it was helping
me at all. I thought I was perpetuating
it. I ended my Diary.
I am commencing it again now and will write only as I feel I
have something to say. I have something
to say today. I need the stigma of
mental illness to be gone, in my lifetime, so I tell you this story.
Thursday June 5th, one day before my 44th
birthday, only 3 days after ending my Diary, I attempted to end my life.
I know what you are all thinking. “How could you? You are so bright. You have a beautiful life, family, and
friends that love you. How selfish? Your dog even, you love that dog? How could you?”
Let me tell you what a person who is about to take their own
life is thinking about, PAIN.
I used to think the same as you, “selfish ass, you took the
easy way out”. I couldn’t feel any more
different about it now. I am shocked at
how different I feel.
There is nothing easy about attempting to take your own
life. The pain is insurmountable. It’s unexplainable. Until you experience that kind of pain you
cannot speak to what kind of act suicide is, you simply cannot.
When the pain started again that fateful day I knew the
medicine change wasn’t working and I wasn’t sure where the bottom could
possibly be. I thought I was there. Every part of me hurt, every bone, every
fibre, every part of my heart and soul, my brain was on fire. Without thinking really, I began by removing all
my jewellery so as to not have it cut or lost by medical staff. I didn’t even realize why I was doing
it. I made sure the dog was fed and had cookies. I took him outside for a walk. I knew my
husband would be home in time to care for him that early evening. All was taken care of. I made the bed neatly, turned on the fans in
the bedroom for comfort and laid down to cry.
I remember screaming at myself, “come on you fucking baby do it, just do
it” through hysterical tears and I started taking pills. Handful after handful of prescription
medication prescribed for anxiety and pain, and whatever other reasons doctors
and I could come up with. And I laid
down to die. I finally felt at peace for
the first time in what seemed like forever, the pain was going to end. The agony in my brain was going to stop. I remember almost smiling through my tears.
Don’t think for a second I didn’t know what I was about to
do to the people around me. I had been
thinking about suicide for weeks. No one
just decides to take their own life on a whim.
Shit I’d been writing about it even.
This action takes thought, planning, and courage. Unbelievable courage. It is not easy to cross that final line and
actually do it. You think it’s easy to say,
“This will be my last day”. Trust me,
it’s not. Living is hard, deciding to
die, just as hard. Realizing you are
going to take your last breath, not easy.
Why do you think when people have the choice to do something horrible to
someone else or die they choose to do something horrible to someone else,
because dying, the thought of it, is too hard, too final.
All you do leading up to something like this, least all I
did, was think about everyone else and what I would be doing to them. The guilt is all you feel besides your own
internal pain. Even though I was in such
pain I wasn’t sure I could take it anymore either physically or mentally, I was
thinking of everyone around me and what my actions were going to do to
them. I knew what I was about to do to
the people I loved and who loved me. I
am not at idiot. I was even thinking of
the pain I would cause those around me that I wasn’t friends with and how they
would feel, there was guilt there too.
This was not an “I will show them moment” as I thought it might be. It was an “I hope they don’t blame themselves
in any way” moment. I had empathy even
for those I wasn’t friends with. Imagine
what I was feeling for those I loved?
For days I had been thinking of my husband and the pain he
would have to endure. I won’t lie to
you, it wasn’t hard for me to think how much easier his life would be without
Bi Polar in it. He’s so wonderful
someone would love him again, sooner than later.
I thought of my kids and if they knew what I did how they
would undoubtedly feel some responsibility, like they weren’t good enough, to
keep me alive. I had already made sure
Dan knew in a fit of tears one day that if I ever died that the kids should
always be told, no matter what, that it was a car accident. They never had to know differently.
My best friend was one of the hardest to think about because
she had just tried hard to see me, only the day before, and I rejected her
attempts. I was in such pain seeing her
face, feeling her hug, would only bring it all to the surface and I couldn’t
handle any more pain. I had to turn her
away. Little did I know the very next
day the pain would be worse either way?
Perhaps had I let her come the pain would have surfaced enough for us to
have taken some sort of medical action before it was too late. We will never know because I didn’t let her
see me. So I knew the guilt was going to
eat at her for that but I also knew she knew my pain. I knew she heard it in my voice. It was worrying her enough for her to call,
she’d find a place of acceptance eventually.
She knew in my voice the agony I was experiencing. I knew she knew.
I thought of my brother and how much guilt he would feel
because it’s what he and I do, we are innately people who feel guilt, for
everything and everyone. I only hoped
that my actions would kick him into taking life by the balls instead of
watching it pass him by.
I thought of a friend so far away that I wasn’t sure how she
would handle it feeling she was helpless to help me from afar. I worried about her heart. She’s had enough pain this past year.
I thought of a girl that is like my little adopted sister
and her perfect baby and how she would endure yet another female loss in her
life and how unfair that would be. And I
was the one doing it. I only prayed
she’d forgive me my disease.
My parents. We
haven’t always seen eye to eye but they did the best they could with the skills
they had. What would this make them feel
about themselves? Could I do that to
them?
And finally, if you can believe it, I thought of my dog and
I hoped and prayed through my tears that he would understand how much I loved
him and my leaving had nothing to do with him.
I hoped somehow he wouldn’t be hurt.
You think of all this, you do while you are in inexplicable
pain. You try to weigh the options. Do you hurt more than they will? Can you justify this? Will someone help you if you don’t do
this? Can anyone help you? It’s hopeless. It’s hopeless. It’s hopeless.
And you commit suicide.
Or in my case, attempt it.
I was lucky. I am
still here. Alive, talking to you. I am so blessed I cannot begin to tell you
how blessed I am. I made it. So many are not so lucky. Sympathize with them, they hurt more than you
can ever imagine. Don’t be angry with
them, they couldn’t endure their pain, a pain you’ve never had to
experience. Understand, forgive, honor
their memory knowing they fought as long as they could. Please do this for me, do this for yourself,
do this for them. I have never
experienced anything like this to be able to say to you that you cannot begin
to imagine the pain and strength this action takes. It’s not easy. Pity them if you must. It’s better than hating them for something
they couldn’t stop.
I will tell you more about this journey in my next
entry. This is enough for one day for
me. I am still recovering.
Diary of a Bi Polar Woman and Girl Ranting will now continue
because I am here to do so, I am blessed to be able to. I won’t write every day as an obligation anymore
but on days when I have something to say as my gift to myself. And I have more to say. I have a journey of a week that changed my
life in more ways than I knew possible.
Mental illness is a disease that is winning. It is taking too many lives, too many
souls. There is more to be said. Every time you see someone on the streets who
is drunk or high, homeless or angry and alone, wonder if we failed them. If as a city, a province, a country, we
failed them. If they are self-soothing
with whatever they can get their hands on because they system couldn’t help
them. Least I got help. I am blessed to be here today. Truly blessed.
If something like this is on your mind please go to your local hospital. They have the facilities to take over, to take control of you, to get your medicine under control and help you feel less helpless, less lost. There are options for you out there you just don't know about them. Please, do this for yourself, value yourself enough to seek help.
Be grateful for everything today, every little thing. It’s all that matters.
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