Trying to figure out how to live. It sounds easier than being done, much easier. I’ve always struggled with depression and some would think I am so used to it that it wouldn’t affect me now, but it does. I have self harmed since my freshman year of high school and I haven’t fully figured out how to stop since. There has been times that I have been able to go months without it and other times I could only go a day. I’m very good at being strong, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t times I am weak.

This past week my depression was hitting me much harder than usual, most likely from all of the stress easter put on me. I wasn’t prepared to feel this down for this long of a time. There are usually random days I feel depression like it is a piece of concrete falling on top of me, but this time the concrete laid on me for over a week while I was barely able to hold it up so it wouldn’t crush me. Every day I went without self harm was a wonderful day and I was proud of accomplishing no self harm even while being so depressed. Then Saturday came, and I couldn’t hold the concrete up anymore. I slept a total of 14 hours Friday night and Saturday I woke up and didn’t move, I just laid there in bed the entire day and wasn’t sure I would ever actually leave my bed that day. Around 4pm I finally got out of bed and went into the living room and laid with my dog until 10pm. My dog is my little lifeline and just petting him or even being next to him makes me feel okay and safe. At 10pm I went back into my room, and that was my biggest mistake.

By 10:20pm I was sitting on the floor looking at 1200mg of Gabapentin, 4mg Xanax, and 30mg Temazepam. This might not sound like much, but I’m only prescribed 400mg Gabapentin twice a day, 0.5mg of Xanax as needed, and 15mg of Temazepam. I sat on the floor and looked at what I had in my hand trying to think about what this could possibly do to me. My goal wasn’t to overdose or attempt suicide, but I wanted the pain in my head to be replaced my physical pain. I took them and them got into my bed and realized what I did, and realized I might have actually screwed up big this time. I was texting a friend and the last thing I wanted to do was tell anyone who had the authority to make me go to the hospital, but my friend wasn’t giving me a option at that point. I sent the text to my therapist at 12:26am and was praying that she was asleep and luckily she was. Even sitting on my bed knowing I took a fair amount of pills, I still considered taking more, or saying fuck it all together and taking as much as I could. For a while I considered truly ending my life, but I didn’t. I sat there in bed texting friends who knew me and knew what could happen based on how much I took and stayed up to keep me calm as I grew more and more nauseous and very dizzy. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, I am guessing it was sometime around 1:30am.

The next morning I woke up and thought it was a dream, until I looked at my phone and saw the messages that mostly involved the words “Are you ok?” from the three people who knew what I had done the night before. I wasn’t sure how to answer to be honest, because I didn’t know if I was okay. I don’t think you can be okay after doing that for the first time. I called my therapist, only because she asked me to, otherwise I probably would have just said I was okay and acted as if nothing happened. She wanted me to go to the hospital, and she wasn’t that only one who wanted me to either. However, I am stubborn and there was no way I was going to the hospital. I still felt nauseous and dizzy, so I spent the entire day in bed and tried to respond to the texts from everyone the best I could, but I know there were many texts that made no sense because I couldn’t read what my phone said at all. The only texts I truly tried to make sure I said the right things for were the texts to my therapist and to my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist kept asking me questions til 11pm, and I think by then I was back to normal and could actually think about exactly what I wanted to say back.

My parents had no clue any of this was going on, and I wasn’t going to tell them. Sunday night I considered doing many things, but I stayed safe. I think the moment I took the pills was the moment I realized I wanted to live because I was scared of what could happen simply by taking that amount of meds all at once. If you ask me right now if I think I am okay, I’m still not sure what I would say. Physically, other than a lot of stomach pain which I think is due to not eating, I am okay. Emotionally, no. Its a learning process, how do I take care of myself and keep myself safe. I can’t say that it has been easy, but I’m trying and thats what matters. As much as sometimes I don’t want to type, it helps. I am scared to say most of this stuff out loud so this is my outlet, what keeps me safe. Well, my dog too, obviously. It’s okay to not always be okay, and I’m learning that.

As a side note, I always want to make this clear, I am not planning to go home and take my life, and definitely won’t self harm. I am safe. I love you guys.

2 thoughts on “4/9/18

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