The attempt at what? The attempt at feeling better? The attempt to get help?
How about the attempt to end it all.
What takes you there? Is it even something that you can nail down? Sure, stuff happens and it sucks, but stuff that sucks happens to everyone and they aren’t clamoring at the door to suicide. So what’s the difference? Why am I different?
I’ve always been very good at getting help before things got really bad. I’ve called my therapist, I’m gotten my husband to drive me to the hospital. I’ve driven myself to the hospital. I’ve taken a cab. But I’ve always gotten there.
But, not this time.
This time was very different, and it was because I didn’t want to put even one more thing on the shoulders of my husband. Hubby can take a lot, but no one should be asked all of this. We had a fight with my hubby’s son and Son’s girlfriend. It was stupid. Son’s mother told girlfriend that we said bad things about girlfriend’s mother. Which we didn’t. But mother’s pastime is lying so it was really no surprise. The surprise was that girlfriend wasn’t buying it from us. She just got angrier. Threats to never see the granddaughter again flew through the air. We were told that they no longer needed us to provide formula and diapers for the granddaughter or pay their rent or electric bills because they were suddenly “financially stable”. I had just paid two months of electric bills not two weeks before this fight. But, ok, I can dig financially stable. But, it didn’t matter. She was blocking us on Facebook and on the phone. There would be no more grandchild.
And I tried to kill myself.
Because, Hubby deserves his family. And he deserves to see them without my bullshit interfering. If I’m dead, then all the problems with the girlfriend go away. Who cares what someone said I said? She can say it, but if I’m dead, she really doesn’t have a leg to stand on regarding my husband. And, let’s face it, he would be forever rid of this crazy hot mess that has somehow invaded our lives. When we were married there was depression and anxiety, but bipolar? No, we didn’t have bipolar, and we sure didn’t have manic episodes. I know the bipolar was probably there. It takes so long to diagnose it. But, regardless, this was a new-ish, definitely destructive part of our lives, and my absence would make it stop.
- 30 Seroquel 25 mg
- 27 Seroquel XR 50 mg
- 10-15 Valium 10 mg
- A couple random pills from the pillbox
The interesting part about this is that I did not put my Klonopin into the mix. I was worried, that if I didn’t succeed, I would need them, and they aren’t so easy to come by. I guess if I really really wanted it to work, I would have taken them.
I woke up the next day really surprised. Hubby wanted to know why I was acting like I was drunk. The prevailing theory is that the Seroquel XR was STILL in my bloodstream and I was super doped up from it still.
At this point I had to tell hubby what I did. He was furious with me. I should never allow girlfriend to do that to me. I should never allow anyone to that to me. He would be talking to son when they made their last trek to PA (don’t ask, it’s a whole other thing) and would take care of it.
I have been admitted into IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program). I’ve been to this one before and the staff is the same. I’m pretty happy about it. I wrote the girlfriend a letter, conversing on the phone is absolutely out of the question. But, I felt that I needed to put my side out there. For instance, I said nothing about her mother – good, bad or indifferent.
The letter has pissed her off even more. Now she has decided that no one will ever see the baby ever again. She states that all Christmas presents have been thrown away. And I started cutting and seriously considering suicide again. I told my husband that everything would be so much easier for him if I were gone. That he would be able to see his son and his granddaughter if I weren’t around to gum up the works. He says that he doesn’t see it like that. He says that if I never came into his life he’d probably be dead or in jail.
I appreciate very much the people who are working so hard at keeping me alive. My husband and my friends and the staff at the IOP, plus my regular therapist and psychiatrist. I’m trying very hard to believe that so many of them saying the same things must mean that they are right and my perceptions are skewed.
I hope that all of you are right.