TRIGGER WARNING for active suicidal thoughts.
It’s 4:30 in the morning as I write this, and I’m worried. I’ve been up since around 1:00 am and when Joe got up at 3:00, I stayed up a little longer to hang out with him. But then, tired, I decided to go lay back down. Big mistake. My rambling mind started to ramble which usually isn’t a great thing.
To be clear, I live in a world of passive suicidal ideation. For those unfamiliar with the lingo, it basically means that suicide is something that is on my mind, but there is no real desire to go through with it and there is no plan. I have this a lot. A LOT a lot. In fact, way more often for my comfort.
Tonight though, as I lay in bed, watching “Mom”, I started thinking that maybe if I took another milligram of Klonopin (I had already had 1 mg about an hour before), that might help me go back to sleep. The insomnia thing has been going on for months and I’ve really about had it. Now, I think my circadian rhythm is messed up, so it’s going to be even harder to deal with. But, I digress.
If 1 mg of Klonopin was good, surely 2 mg would be better. And suddenly I felt ready to take everything I have. I started thinking that this time, I would surely do it right. This time, I would surely take enough, because I planned on taking it all. All of it. The Klonopin, the mood stabilizers, the OCD pills, hell even the blood thinners and cholesterol medicine. That should do it.
I still have the presence of mind though to realize that these thoughts are lies my brain (mind?) are telling me. I certainly don’t feel very depressed. I mean, I’m depressed but it certainly doesn’t feel like I’m depressed enough to be contemplating suicide with any degree of seriousness. But, there I was, doing it anyway.
So, I used what was left of my clarity and got up. Went out to the garage (too cold to smoke outside) and admitted to Joe what was going on. That was HARD. I don’t like to admit that weakness, I’m sure no one does. And honestly, I didn’t want to upset him, but I did. He’s not acting upset, but he’s not talking either and that’s a sure sign. I certainly can’t blame him. If he told me he was contemplating suicide, I would be devastated. But, I really felt it was in both of our best interests for him to know what was going on.
So, now, here I sit in the living room. Lights and TV on. Pills in the other room. I’m hiding from my meds. I’m hiding from the only thing that keeps my chemical imbalance relatively controlled, because it is also the only thing that can give me a relatively painless exit from this life. It’s really a shame when the thing you probably need the most is also the thing that holds the most danger for you.
Thankfully, I have therapy at 8:00am this morning. It’s a special session because I was so depressed last week. I felt it would be better to see her an extra day than risk a problem that ended up cropping up anyway.
I just wish I could understand why this had to happen today. Usually, suicidal thoughts crop up when I’m extremely depressed, and I’m just not. I’m not lying to myself either, at least I don’t think so.
Y’all, what the actual fuck. This day is going to suck.