This was written Aug 2011 - While I still struggle with a few dark moments, none lately are as bad as this was. It is time to publish it. I have been afraid of how people would judge me after reading it, but it is what it is. My 13 year old kitty Bear did pass away that Sept a week after Pat's sister Melissa passed away. without further ado....
Suicide is such a taboo subject, but I have decided to tackle it head on. I have spent most of the month of July in what I call "The darkness" and have decided that maybe this will help someone who may need it. All summer, with the kids at home, and the cost of living going up, up, up and everything crashing around us, I went spiraling head first into the darkness.
All of my friends have their own issues and struggles, and I was not willing or wanting to add my troubles to theirs. I did not want to sound greedy as my birthday rolled around and we were so broke that my husband couldn't get me a little gift. I didn't want anyone to know that with a few family members about to go shake hands with Jesus and my 13 year old cat looking like he was going to the Happy Mousing Grounds that it was all becoming too much to handle.
All of the darkness was building and building with nowhere to go was starting to mess with other things that are needed to fully function. Late nights where becoming a constant thing, as well as no energy and no desire to eat. I wanted to be happy and cheerful so that nobody knew how close to the edge I was getting. The main problem, is how society now views the word "suicide".
Back in 2002 on my third pregnancy, I once again miscarried. The first miscarriage was done and over before I caught on that I was pregnant, the second was not only known I was expecting, but I knew that I was carrying a boy. The little boy even had a name. My best friend turned up pregnant right after I did and I was following two weeks behind my sister in law and I threw her the baby shower. That was HARD. At the time, my husband was working 100+ hours a week and when I asked him to watch our daughter while I went to the ER, or would he go with me, I got the rudest comment he has ever given. So, I took our daughter and went to the ER alone and ended up calling Mom to help with her while they ran the necessary tests.
After two weeks of hoping and praying that I had not lost the pregnancy that it was just a menstrual cycle that happens during pregnancy, the day it was confirmed that I lost the baby, I had a WIC appointment. I went to the appointment to cancel since I was no longer expecting, that I wished to withdraw my application. The lady told me that I still qualified for 3 months to help the body recover from the loss, and asked how I was doing. My words were "Today is not a good day, but I will live" No big deal right.... WRONG
Next thing I know I am being sent to a hospital and they are threatening to take my baby girl away if I do not seek help as they feel I am suicidal. They even called the local hospital and told them to expect me and made it sound so much worse than it was. So, there I was talking to someone from MHMR and it was decided that I should go in for an evaluation and go from there.
Before I know it, I was on Zoloft and on one of the highest doses. Each month I went in and asked when would we be able to talk about why I was marked as depressed. All I needed was someone to talk to. Someone to listen to why I was hurting inside. I lost a baby and hosted my sister in laws baby shower. I had lost the baby I wanted and had already named. I lost a piece of my heart and all I needed was for someone to listen and lend me a shoulder to cry on.
Instead, I was told that they are just there to regulate my meds and that when I was "stable" they would pull me off the medications. So, that day I decided it was time to fix the problem myself. I went home and flushed all the pills down the toilet and then called my husband 8 shades of asshole for what he did when I lost his child and in the end made him cry over it. I almost felt bad about doing that, but he had a hand in the darkness and needed the wake up call that he was about to wind up divorced. It took a few months, but it got better and then two years later I delivered a son.
If the lady in the WIC office had not threatened to have my child taken from me, I would not have been so afraid to ask for help this time around. Society is so big about if someone mentions that they want to end it all that they need a 3 day evaluation period and a ton of happy pills to make the bad thoughts go away. There are no treatments that just allow you to talk and get whatever is bothering you off your chest. If you want to say you are mad enough to kill someone, that is just as bad, if not worse, because then you are marked a threat to others. There are very few healthy options that do not involve medications or intensive therapy because heaven help that we say or do something wrong.
This last month, all I wanted to do was cry and scream at all that was going wrong. There was no serious depression, just a bunch of really bad days. I think that everybody needs a few bad days, it is unnatural to go through life fully doped up on happy pills because you cannot cope with everyday stress. However before I get blasted, major depression is a good reason for the medications, but talking to the patients with more than "How are your meds working for you this month?" would also be a BIG bonus. In my church I could ask the preacher for help, but he normally talks about some of the problems he hears about and some ways to fix them at the pulpit, and I don't want the whole church to know my business. While he never gives names, he does mention the issue which make me uncomfortable.
I was having major jealousy issues because everyone was to busy to talk. Everyone wanted to visit and hang out, but if there was any serious talk, they were too busy or their problems were legitimelty bigger than mine. Over time, I worked through most of these feelings, and what helped most was pouring them onto here.
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