Where I am Now

Trying to heal the wounds from the past and break free from their pain.

 Two weeks ago,  I almost quit. I was overwhelmed with emotion, and all logic had escaped me. My heart felt so heavy,  and I couldn’t stop crying. The only thing I knew at that point was that I couldn’t keep feeling this way, and I only saw one way out.

I wrote [a sorry excuse for] a note and looked for one knife in particular, which I couldn’t find. I was scared because my son was home with me. I called the suicide hot line, only to find it was automated, and hung up.

No way out. No escape. No hope. I don’t WANT to, but feel I HAVE to.

I called my husband, who was on his way to work, with the intention of only leaving a voice-mail. 

He answered.

I told him I was scared and didn’t know what to do. I saw the end right before my eyes. 

He understandably started yelling at me, but then he was able to talk me back into reality. It was then that I realized I can’t do this alone. I needed help.

I made an appointment with my doctor to get my medication increased. She said that I’m on the maximum dose, and had me go to the emergency room. More hopelessness and dread came over me. 

What will they do to me? How can they possibly help? 

 I had to remove all jewelry besides my wedding ring,  and change into scrubs. I felt more like a prisoner than a patient. I knew I had to keep cool, though, otherwise they’d admit me. A psychiatric evaluation was done, and I was referred to a psychiatrist and psychologist. I was released and able to go home. 

The psychiatrist prescribed a new medication to take in addition to my antidepressant, and at the moment, I feel alive. It’s like a veil has been lifted and I’m living instead of merely existing. 

I am happy and energized for the most part, but I also have a sense of clarity. This clarity helps me to acknowledge and write about what happened without breaking down. 

I know I’m not cured, and that there’s no miracle drug out there to take away the nightmares and feelings of guilt, but it’s a start.

It’s a great start.

I begin therapy in two weeks, and I know that won’t be all rainbows and sunshine, but it’s a start to me taking control of my life.