A quick primer

A quick primer

Clearly I have not embraced this blogging thing. No big surprise to anyone who knows me. But still, I have successfully blogged for some time in the past. 

I'm drawn back today because I'm at a point in my life where I am as emotional and sad as I have ever been. I plan to get into blogging here everyday for a bit. I'm sure doing so would drive away some readers (Sure like I have readers) but I need to have an outlet, however minimal it is.

For today, tho, I am reposting a post I posted over on Facebook.

 

"2015 has been quite a year for me, to say the least. Some of you know a bit of my journey this year, some of you may not care to know, so if you would prefer to skip over the following, no one will blame you.

After I ran my half marathon last year, I found myself missing the daily drive to prepare for the event. That led to feeling unfulfilled which led to lower self esteem which led to my depression clobbering me over the head once again. Just before my birthday, as I was getting into the shower, I had the thought, "If I wasn't here, it wouldn't hurt like this."

I went into work that day and talked to my manager about taking a leave of absence. Of course he and The Home Depot supported me. Two days later it was official. I thought I was making a good move, allowing myself time to focus on me. I got with my doctor and changed my prescription, I upped my commitment to therapy and got to work.

It wasn't long before my days were spent on the couch watching TV and eating sweets. Soon that couch pulled out into a bed. I rationalized watching sit-coms brought some laughter to my day. I had earned a few cinnamon rolls, hadn't I, after all the weight I'd lost.

Of course the girls were curious why I wasn't working. I told them I was having head aches (think migraine) and the doctor wanted me to relax more. All the girls were great.

Along the way, my caffeine addiction went into overdrive. Those of you who have joked about my diet cola problem would be amazed at how I upped my intake. This led to trouble sleeping. Which led to long scary nights alone inside my head. The easy solution to that was Nyquil. So that was my daily routine, get up, drink caffeine eat sweets, drink caffeine, eat, zone out in front of the tv, eat ice cream, drink caffeine and gulp down some Nyquil.

Without realizing it, I found myself investigating methods of suicide. What was tried most often, what succeeded most often, what leaves the least mess. I learned a lot. My doctor and I added Wellbutrin to my medication. Instantly I felt an uptick in my mood. I was encouraged. So much so that I went back to him and asked if we could increase the dosage, I'd researched and found that I started on a lower dose and could easily use up to three times the amount daily. He was encouraged as I was and agreed to doubling it.

Curious thing about the medication, the directions explicitly say not to cut crush or chew the extended release tablet. Of course I needed to know why. Turns out it's easy to overdose if you do so.

So I was halfway through my initial prescription when I got the new one for double. Shortly after that, my pharmacy called me and said my refill of the original Rx was ready.

Doing some more research, I found reports of people overdosing negatively on Wellbutrin at 800MG. And several sites stating lethal doses start anywhere from 3-6 grams. I suddenly found myself with about 13.5 grams.

In the past few months, I've heard lots about reaching out when you're in crisis. I still contend I never felt in crisis. One day I made a decision, a decision no bigger to me than which t-shirt to put on. Everything was so matter of fact.

I took the girls to school and told them I love them. Went back to the house, emptied my wallet, took my SIM card out of my phone and went for a drive. I ended up about 2 hours from home. I can't figure out why I went to Grand Rapids, but I did.

I bought a bottle of Nyquil (of course), some Dramamine and sat in my car crushing up my prescriptions with two spoons. The next day to day and a half are lost to those who saw/found me. Curious to (what I thought was) the end, I was monitoring my pulse on my phone with the category "suicide" to collect the data. I found that bit some time later, my pulse got into the 160's, 170's I think.

I ended up in the emergency room. Had several seizures. And lived.

Many people were worried about me. Many people came to me. Not to take away from any of them, but Nora saved me. She drove to Michigan and stayed in a hotel while I was hospitalized. Came to see me every chance she could. She took me home after, then she gave me a new home.

I don't know if I'll ever be "cured". There are mountains and valleys of ups and downs. I spent a weekend a while back trouble shooting my failed suicide attempt. That's what smart people do, right? Try to improve things.

I should re-read this to see if it makes sense, but I'd probably end up just deleting it. I've got a lot of story still, and plenty of minutia to go with it. I'm going to put it all up on a blog, if anyone is curious.

I hope the takeaway here is for everyone to reach out to anyone you may know, or suspect, is suffering from mental illness. I've learned a lot from my new friend Julio, and I look forward to learning more from him. If you haven't looked at some of my re-posts from the Break the Stigma Project, go and check it out. Then keep going further. Please."

Saturday night ramblings.

Saturday night ramblings.

Why a blog?

Why a blog?