Hello From The Hospital

I know it’s been a while, and I am sorry. I was in a very bad place, as you know from my last post… I have to admit to myself and to the world, I tried to end my life. This time, I could have succeeded. I called my nurse from the CLSC after and left a message. She called me later and contacted the authorities. I am sorry I did that to her. I shouldn’t have put the weight of my life on her shoulders like that. She was understandably upset with me.

So I’ve been sharing a ward with other weirdos like me for the past 3-4 weeks now. It gets very boring. Or very funny too. Some people have it worse than me, let’s just leave it at that.

I participate in groups. I read. I walk. I talk. But apparently that’s not enough. I need to learn to express my feelings. To dig deep and access those bad emotions like anger and sadness and feel them and share them with people. Well that’s not going to be a small task, let me tell you. I’ve leaned to keep those well hidden away from view so as to not burden people. The perfect little girl so to speak. Apparently I’m the perfect patient too. Yeah!! One thing to be happy about I guess.

To be honest, I still wish I had succeeded. But you won’t hear me tell my doctors that. I tell them I don’t know how I feel about my attempt. I tell them I’m neutral. But I do tell them when I have suicidal ideation. Unfortunately, I’m almost honest to a fault. It only keeps me here longer.

There was a meeting yesterday. Imagine a big conference table. And 6 people sitting around it. One of the three Occupational Therapists, my nurse from the CLSC,  my Psychiatrist, a nurse from the ward, my social worker, and somehow (why? who knows?), the pharmacist. And now imagine them inviting you in for a conversation. I was completely terrified. Apparently they did so to tell me they are all worried about me and want to help me get well. I don’t doubt it but hell was that a stressful event for me. I still feel anxiety creeping in today about it. Actually I don’t think I’ll ever think of this and not feel unwell about it. I’m a bit upset they “attacked” me like that.

That’s starting to be a long post, for a “just touching base” one. And not a funny one at that. Ah common! I should have that book of jokes one of my friends on the ward has so I’d leave you on a great note. Well let’s say this: I’m in good hands. One day I’ll be that person with the expressed feelings who doesn’t want to try and end it every so often. I have to believe it. That’s what they keep telling me anyways.

Have a good one!

For all or nothing

I’m not well today. I fell asleep at 4AM and got up at 5PM. I started watching Timeless, which is , I must admit, a good show. But I can’t distract myself from what’s really on my mind: death. I’m terrified of it. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About how. About when. Fortunately I can’t find a really good reason why I should do it. But I’m obsessed with it. No matter what I do, it comes back, haunting me, taunting me.

Continue reading “For all or nothing”

The story of my past suicide attempts

The story of my past suicide attempts

This blog post will not be an easy one. But it’s one I want to write. For myself mostly but maybe a little bit for other people, to know that it’s okay and there’s no shame in having attempted suicide. It’s a very difficult subject for me to approach (even with my psychologist I block mid-sentence and she usually guesses where I’m going).

If you think you might be triggered by the subject, I suggest you stop reading here.

The following text is not a how-to or how-not-to. It’s simply my story told in my own words. In a lot of words.

Continue reading “The story of my past suicide attempts”

Keep it secret

Keep it secret

I find it hard to keep secrets. Not other people’s but my own. I like to share. I like to tell the world about what goes on in that crazy head of mine. Sometimes, I should really keep it to myself. And I’ve been trying to do just that lately. So instead of saying it in my usual form I’ll say it like a really bad poem. Maybe it’ll help me get it out there without having to say it to people and have the consequences that will inevitably follow.

I can’t tell if they’re real
The things I see passing by
A smile, a laugh, it is genuine
A tear, a cry, it is hurting

Please tell me it’ll be over
Please tell me it’ll go away

I can’t tell if they’re real
The thoughts that traverse my mind
So much happiness, so much pride
So much fear, so much sadness

Please tell me it’ll be over
Please tell me it’ll go away

I can’t tell if it’s real
The object in my hand
Ah such great relief
Ah such great pain

I think it’ll be over
I think it’ll go away

I told you it would be bad! Hahaha. Anyways that’s just what I came up with after how I felt between my last post and now. Do you have a poem you’d like to share?

Careful – Cycling through!

I woke up this morning feeling good and rested. Then I realized my alarm hadn’t gone off because my cell-phone had died (while charging) and I was late for work. Then, my first order of the day was to plug an Ethernet cable for someone who didn’t know how to. (It’s a nice person, I don’t  hold a grudge. Not their fault for not being Tech-savvy). But still, you can imagine how the rest of the day went.

All of this bad luck aside, I did come to an important conclusion. I’ve kind of figured out my cycle.

No, not that kind of cycling. The other kind.

I think I can mostly situate myself on my personal scale and know what’s to come in the next few days. I didn’t use to be predictable, and maybe it won’t last very long either. I think that even if lithium doesn’t stop the depressions or the hypomania it helps me see through it and remember who I really am.

So I think my cycle lasts between 1 and 2 weeks and goes like this:

Phase 1: HAPPY. Everything is great. Life is awesome. I can do everything. MUST MAKE PLANS.
Phase 1.5: Happy, enjoying my time. Stuff becomes a little dull or irritating but it’s okay.
Phase 2: GET OFF OF MY FACE. I will blow up this whole planet. I want out. Of what? How the hell should I know?!?
Phase 3: I’m angry. And I’m tired. More like exhausted. Please go away. I want to be alone and maybe sob a little.
Phase 3.5: I suck. I can’t do anything right. I’ll always be like this and I don’t deserve anyone or anything. I want to die. I can’t take this anymore.

Of course that’s just a scale, but I think it’s pretty accurate. Also, events/news/situations can come in and completely change it of course. But I think knowing my base cycling can help me. Maybe I won’t do certain things or go to certain events when I know where I am or will be in the next few days. It might help me prevent overreactions as well. Also, when I was writing it down, I realized that I don’t have a space for “normal” state. Maybe that’s why I feel so alienated with the whole concept of being normal “in between” episodes. Maybe it’s because I’ve been cycling like that for so long, normal actually doesn’t exist for me. To be honest, I also feel like I’ve lost something. I’ve lost the mysterious in one way. I guess it probably sounds weird or crazy -both of which describe me well. It’s for the greater good though, right?

What about you guys? Have you figured out your cycle, or do you even have one? How did you feel when you figured it out or how do you feel about not having one?

Have a great day!

Sword Wars, Women and Rosette

We had a sword war today! I just love those events to bits. At the end of the day when I get home I actually feel like I’ve accomplished something. Granted, the only thing I’ve actually accomplished is make a fool of myself and die a couple times, and maybe get a sunburn. But it’s so much fun. We’re doing them every week now so I’m pretty sure all of my Sundays are set for the entire season. Go forth soldier! Protect the King!

M was there. I thought I’d find it harder to see her since Friday was like a punch in the gut. It turns out it wasn’t that bad. We spoke a tiny bit and then she pretty much ignored me and talked with a friend. Oh she played too but there the ignoring was kind of mutual. I think we both don’t know what we’re suppose to do with ourselves in the presence of the other. I guess some things can only heal with time.

Unfortunately, V couldn’t make it. She said she’ll definitely come next week though! That’s exciting. I mean she seems like she really wants to come and is interested in seeing me again? Friday when we departed she said “We should definitely do something again.” Not the “Yeah let’s do something!” that doesn’t mean anything that we all blurt out. But now I have to be patient and not overwhelm her with invites until then. Sometimes my bipolar brain forgets that time for other people doesn’t flow the same way it flows for me, and that 1 day is not a million years. I have a very poor notion of time. I also have a very poor notion of knowing when girls are interested in me. For some reason I can tell if a guy is interested from a mile away, but when it comes to women, my intelligence drops to the level of a pigeon. Ah women. They make me all funny inside. I think I’ll force myself to go slow and enjoy the ride this time. So, when it turns out that she’s the straightest woman on the planet and is married and pregnant, it won’t feel like I’m loosing something and I’ll have had fun in the meantime.

On a completely unrelated note, I went to the Old Port with a good friend after. We just sat in the grass, talked and ate. I’ve gotten her hooked on Rosette de Lyon, so we had Rosette, smoked Gouda cheese and bread. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a heavenly combination. Rosette de Lyon is some sort of porc sausage, specialty of Lyon. And NO it is NOT salami or pepperoni. It’s horrible on a pizza but it’s amazing in a sandwich or on its own with cheese. If you live in North America, don’t get the pre-packaged ones, they’re nasty and way too salty. You have to buy it at the counter and have it cut – and then you taste heaven and never go back. Anyways, I’m glad summer is there because this little snack à la Française was just perfect with the birds and the wind.

En prime, I joined the song that I’ve been listening to on repeat today. It reflects well how I was feeling.

How was your week-end?

The horrors in my head

I try and keep a positive tone in most of what I do. I find that it keeps me hoping and it also prevents me from driving everyone around me crazy. I have accepted long ago that my emotions and my crazy thoughts are too much to handle for other people. How could they not? I live with them and they’re too much for me. Sometimes, I need those horrors out there though. By keeping them inside I end up believing in them.

Often I wonder how I’m still alive today. I spend at least 30% of my time trying to convince myself not to give up. That’s a lot of time and energy. I’ve been like that for over 10 years now and I know it’s not going away anytime soon. But some days, it becomes too hard. Some days, everything is too much and I’m not sure willpower alone can keep me going. On days like this, I need to talk. I usually talk to people but lately I’ve been rather lonely. I mean I have friends but I can’t bother them with my irrationality anymore. And I currently have no doctor either (bless the Quebec health system and its wonderful ways) so I can’t just call and book an appointment.

At least I've got company!
At least I’ve got company!

So I’ve decided to talk here. After all, I created this blog to help me deal with the ways of my brain, so I should use it! Now if you don’t feel comfortable reading about suicidal ideation or if the subject is a trigger for you I advise you stop reading here. As much as I need to be writing about it I don’t want to make anyone else feel horrible right now – one is already too much.

When I feel good it’s almost like I forget what it’s like to be depressed. In a way it’s good, because it lets me breathe a bit and enjoy life when I can. But when I feel bad, it’s like I’m a completely different person. And it disturbs me. I get so exhausted, but I can’t get proper sleep, and it makes me incredibly annoyed. It’s like all the little things I usually have patience for now hold great importance. Everything is wrong, and it’s inherently my fault because I’m the one thinking it. And my brain is all foggy and encased in some sort of material that’s applying pressure on it. My head hurts from that foreign entity trying to force itself upon me. No matter what I do, it stays there and grows stronger. And I fight back, as much as I can, with the tools I learned to use.

I take walks, I make jokes, I think about all of those great things I did. I remember the travels, the moments spent with friends. Everything I’ve got going for me. I listen to music and I dance. And it works. Because those things I know and I believe. I know that my family loves me because of everything they’ve done for me. It took me a lot to be remember that though. As a teenager, when I was going into depression I had to keep repeating to myself  over and over again “It’s not true. It’s your brain tricking you. Your family loves you. People in the street do not hate you. No one looks at you weird. It’s all your imagination.” It took years but it finally worked. I don’t think that random strangers in the street hate me anymore. I don’t believe that I’m worthless, and have no friends. But my real problems, the one that are present no matter what state I’m in, they’re still there. And they appear so much worse when I’m depressed. I see no hope, no future because my financial situation can’t ever get better, after all, I’m going to get hypomanic and start spending like crazy again. I’m never going to get a stable job because I am not stable myself and I’m unreliable. I can do my best, but my best will never be as good as everyone else’s regular. I know inside that it’s not completely true. But all the fog is making it hard to distinguish the truth.

I’m not a religious person, and I don’t think humans have souls. But that thing that hurts inside of me, that thing that is screaming out in pain, it feels like a soul. I try to hug it tightly, to tell it not to worry. But I’m so tired… It’s going to get better… but it’s also going to get worse… Over and over and over. I think that’s the hardest part. Knowing that I’m stuck like this for the rest of my life. Forever having to battle highs and lows and spend all my energy trying to convince myself that all those thoughts are wrong and filter my emotions. I know that if one day I end my life, this is going to be the reason. I just can’t take the sickness anymore. It takes so much out of me, how can I survive more of it? I don’t want to die. I really wish I could live without all of that pain. But I can’t deal with this any longer. I don’t know where I get the strength to continue when I’m curled up in a corner screaming and crying. Probably from my friends and my family. I don’t want to let them down. We have so much stuff planned – I can’t just die on them like that. Just one more day. Everything will be better soon.

I’ve had a rough week. I’m doing my best to stay afloat. I really wanted to talk to my ex, just a little bit, to get reassured. But I can’t. She has other problems, real problems, to think about. Besides, I don’t think she ever really understood or felt comfortable with my mood swings. I don’t blame her, they’re terribly confusing, scary, and annoying.

It feels like the world has abandoned me. But I’ll keep doing my best. Tomorrow, I’ll go to work, and in the evening, I’ll celebrate my friend’s birthday. Saturday, I’ll help another friend store some of her stuff in the empty room. Sunday, I’ll go fight with foam weapons. And I’ll smile. I’ll pretend that everything is well because this is what I know. I’ll do my best to keep going. Because life is worth it. Even if right now I don’t believe it.

Nevertheless, I really need a hug right now.