Coming back to life - where I've been

I've been away from blogging for a while. I've had a lot going  on. Last Wednesday, the 9th, I attempted suicide. I took an overdose of sleeping pills, painkillers, and anti-anxiety pills. I realized what I had done and called my mom about 15 minutes after wards. I was taken to the hospital by ambulance, forced to drink an activated charcoal solution in the ER to absorb the pills, was put on oxygen, a heart monitor, pumped with IV fluids, and had tons of blood drawn. I had self-harmed prior to my suicide attempt and my arm was patched up with ointment, and a gauze bandage. About an hour or so later, I was transferred to the psychiatric facility next door. I only spent 48 hours there. The first 24 I mostly slept, sleeping off the medications. My blood work came back with my kidney function impaired, and low liver enzymes. I still don't if there was permanent damage done.

After getting out of the hospital, I moved in with my parents, where I have been since last Friday. It's been really hard. I miss my house, my bed, my room, my privacy. My therapist wants me to stay here until Monday, because she's out of town and wants to make sure I stay safe. My parents joined me in therapy on Monday, and it went okay. They know the full extent of my trauma and how painful and hard it has been and how it's affected me (PTSD, dissocation, etc), yet my mom feels it's okay to question me about it. I'm going nuts.

I'm not feeling depressed anymore, maybe a little bit. But no longer suicidal.  My anxiety is pretty high. I guess that's from living at home and...I went back to work today. I will only be at my babysitting job for 2 more weeks. They have to let me go. I understand their reasons. It's the second time I've been in the hospital in 6 months, they need someone reliable. It makes me sad but at the same time I understand.

So, the next couple of months I will just be taking it slow. I will continue to work at the restaurant, and look for a volunteering job.

I feel incredibly regretful for what I did. But I also have made the decision to live, I realize I don't want to die. I reached the ultimate rock bottom with my depression, anxiety, and PTSD. It can only go up from here.

My faith is as strong as ever. I am clinging to God these days, for strength, wisdom, forgiveness, and hope. He makes all things new.

hopeless

I haven't been this depressed since July, when I was in the hospital for my depression and suicide plans. I guess what's different is that I have no active plans to kill myself. Part of me wishes I had the guts to do it. It's like I'm miserably stuck in both places, wanting to live and wanting to die. It's a place that's all too familiar.

But I feel very frustrated and irritable. I have no motivation to change things. Even though I'm the loneliest I've ever been, the thought of going out and being more social is unappealing to me and is quite frankly terrifying and depressing. I don't feel needed, by anyone. I stayed alive over the summer because of the family I nanny for. Yes, they need me. I am their babysitter and I have been by a couple different people that if I ever hurt myself, they would be devastated. I know they would. And I'm a horrible person for believe that that isn't enough to keep on going. How selfish of me.

I'm taking my medication, which is something new I'm trying. I'm not convinced it's working. But I take it to put my treatment team at ease. I'm very scared of ending back up in the hospital. It's not some place I want to be. It's cold, sterile, depressing and causes more problems. I keep trying to make myself believe that things will get better. But, it's just not happening. I keep thinking...either I'm going to end up in the hospital again, or I'm going to die.

My parents have no clue what is going on. Maybe my mom suspects something, but I just don't want to explain it. If I were to be admitted to the hospital, they would freak out. I think they would be angry that they didn't know that I was having such a hard time. I'm stressing over the fact that they have a right to know, but not wanting to burden them...as I have done for years.

Even though I'm unmotivated, I'm desperate to see and talk to my therapist, who has been out of the office. She always helps me to get back on track. I need her help. I can't seem to help myself these days. I'm not even really eating, now that I think about it. I just don't think about it. I just lay in bed all day.

I would love nothing more than to take back my hope, to feel joy, to come out of the depths of this depression, to thrive, and not just survive. I really want that for myself. The problem is, I don't think I'm capable of it. I don't think that I'm worthy. I don't think it's in my future plans.

Trauma issues are very present and a roadblock to feeling safe again. I've had intense flashbacks, nightmares, and overwhelming emotions. I don't feel like going into it. A big anniversary is coming up in a few weeks. I'm beyond anxious for it.

My memory is terrible. I literally feel like I'm losing my mind.  I wonder if it's an effect of the trauma. I have no idea. I just want to feel like I know what's going on around me.

I have a sick feeling in my stomach. I have the worst panic feeling in my chest. Depression is making me sick. I'm really, really scared of going back to work on Monday. I can't even imagine how I'm going to deal with it. Here comes that panic feeling in my chest again.

I'm not sure what to do. I see my therapist on Wednesday. I wish it would hurry up. I'm hanging on by a thread.

Floating Along.

Things aren't any worse. Things aren't any better. I just seem to be floating along. There is very little fight inside of me. I don't feel connected to life, to anything outside of me. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a dream. That things aren't real. It's so strange.

Depression wise, I mean like I said. It's the same. Yes, I am still suicidal. Yes I am still depressed. I'm also now battling severe anxiety. I wake up trembling, and continue to shake all through out the day. Sleeping has been tough. My doctor increased my medication. It doesn't really seem to be helping. I have group tomorrow night and I emailed my group leader over the weekend and told her that I don't feel comfortable sharing with the group everything that's going on with me. I don't want to upset anyone or scare anyone, and I have found that talking about my suicidal thoughts and depression sometimes makes it worse. My group leader wrote back and said she understood and I didn't have to share anything I didn't feel comfortable sharing.

I'm having a ROUGH time with my eating disorder. It's just not good. Absolutely no appetite. I'm very anxious about seeing my dietitian on Wednesday.

I'm going to equine therapy this Saturday. I am SO excited. I can't wait to be reunited with my horse from Remuda Ranch, and some of the staff. I am anxious about getting there. It's about an hour and a half away from me. I hate driving anywhere I've never been to before. I'm going to try and get my mom to take me, just so I have an idea of where to go the next time.

I put together my own "safety plan" for when I have suicidal thoughts or plans. I found this worksheet online and wrote it down in my journal. I'm obviously going to share it with my treatment team. The only blank part on the sheet is when it asks you where is a safe place you can go. I don't really have one.

I have group tomorrow night, dietitian on Wednesday night, and therapy on Thursday morning. I will update over the weekend.

Crash.

Things are not going well, at all. Well, there are a few bright spots, but overall, I'm hanging on by a thread.

I am still suicidal. My psychiatrist brought up the word "hospital" today but I shot that down right away. And he even said he didn't think it would help. So I'm glad that's off the table. He increased my medication and gave me a few names of some other anti-depressants that he's thinking of putting me on. I'm going to research them.

I've had a lot of close calls with the suicide thoughts lately, but so far have managed to keep myself from going through with things. I was telling my dietitian about it last night and I made her cry. I felt so awful about that. She was so sad and so scared. She loves me and cares about me so much and I feel the same about her and it just broke my heart to see her so sad. I never want to be the cause of her pain. Things are going well with food either. I actually lost a considerable amount of weight. It blew my mind when she told me. Because I thought for sure I had gained weight. My dietitian gave me a plan that she really wants me to try. I did pretty good with it today I think.

I am not able to see my therapist this week, unless she has a cancellation. I was called for jury duty on the morning I usually have therapy. I got my psychiatrist to write me a note to get out of it (which I am still debating on using) but my therapist already filled in the spot that I usually see her. At the very least, she said we could have a phone session. I guess that's better than nothing.

I am going to my new church tomorrow night, to hear one of the pastors speak to the young adult group. I am really excited but also really nervous. I hope it will be good, and I hope I will meet people.

I am meeting my second mom for lunch on Saturday. Honestly I am looking forward to this more than anything. She saved my life last week. She kept me from going through with a suicide plan. I sobbed and sobbed in her arms. I wish I lived with her. She's the kind of person that would drop anything to come and make sure I was safe and help me. I've never had anyone like that in my life. I love her so much. I owe her so much. She and my dietitian are the two people in my life that I feel like care about me the most. I know both of them are sad and hurting to see me suffering so much. I don't want them to feel that way. I want to make them proud. I just have to remember that in the moments of complete darkness.

Sleeping through the night and anxiety continue to be a struggle. It's definitely frustrating. What's more frustrating is trying to figure out why I am struggling so much. No one seems to know, not even me. I don't think I fully came out of the darkness of winter time, and when I celebrated my 1 year anniversary in recovery, I acted like I was happy and healthy, but deep down I don't think I really was. I just wanted people to think I was. "God willing, we will get you out of this" is what my psychiatrist said to me tonight. It kind of scared me. I don't know. I know he really cares about me and can help me, but I sensed fear in his voice. I don't blame people for being scared for my physical and mental state these days. Hell, I'm scaring myself. I just have to take it moment to moment. Really, that's all I can do.
My dietitian asked me if I promised I would tell her if I wanted to kill myself. To ease her worry and fear, I said yes. But that's honestly not an honest statement. I just said that to make her feel better. Ugh, I'm so horrible.

Anyway, next week starts a full time schedule with babysitting. 9:30am to 5:30pm every week day with the kids. It's going to be crazy and I'm scared of if it's going to take a toll on me. I will try and update more next week. It's hard to make my thoughts public these days...I hate scaring people.