Let’s skip the part where I artfully beat around the bush and then we all come to the same tearful realization together…I tried to kill myself again. Which, really, shouldn’t be all that surprising based on the tirade I posted here and the warpath I was on outside of my computer screen.
Yay mental illness! *insert confetti and balloons here*
I can’t even begin to explain the mixed bag of rage and paranoia and despair and energy and depression that made up this mixed episode. Oh, but it scared the hell out of anyone in ten foot radius. There was yelling, crying, homelessness, and finally an overdose that may have outdone my last two combined. In fact, I’m sure it did, considering every time they draw my blood, I get this sad, concerned look before the doctor tells me again the course we’re on with my kidneys and renal system in this condition. Not to mention whatever the drugs did to my heart and potential neuro damage…I stopped listening weeks ago, to be honest. I’m alive, right? I mean, it was a little sketchy there for a minute, but I’m here for better or for worse.
Word to the wise, though – DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT overdose on lithium. Of all things, this was the most brutal experience of my life. The pain was enough to completely cure me of wanting to die in that moment. I called 911 on myself.
After a week on the cardio floor in a medical hospital, I was (begrudgingly) sent to another behavioral health place in which I simply existed for about a month. I mean, I made friends. I loved those friends, but they come and go and it got lonely and boring and scary sometimes and I definitely kicked a few doors and punched a few walls. I cried a lot. I acted like I didn’t have emotions a lot. I spent a lot of time coloring, reading, and arguing with my doctor about medications and diagnoses.
I was released yesterday and truthfully, I have no clue what I’m doing right now. I’m wandering, completely lost, and waiting for someone to point in a direction and just say walk. At very least, I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore, and I have some very good people to thank for that. I hope I can also thank myself one day.
For now, I just want to thank the very incoherent old man who hugged me when I was being discharged yesterday. My favorite friend of all, to be honest. He put his forehead against mine and told me very simply:
“Take care of your life.”
Keep kicking, guys. Swim harder. I know this storm seems impossible. Somedays it really is…but I’m alive still, so you can be, too. Just hold on.