I just found out one of my best friends died the other day. I found out through facebook which isn't my favorite way of finding stuff like that out but at least I found out. I don't know how she died but I do know she was beautiful. This girl was always there for me when I needed her and I tried to be there for her. We watched Rocky Horror together along with Girl Interrupted. She made me art projects that I have and always will cherish. She was one of the most loving people I have ever met and I pray that one day we will meet again. There are so many words that I wish I could find right now but through the tears and wondering I can't really think straight. I love you my lovely angel party it up in heaven til I get there!
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Friday, November 1, 2013
Some Bad News....
So I went to the nurse here at the shelter about how I haven't had a period since August. She decided to do some blood work and I waited a week for the results...yesterday I got those results. I have a tumor on my pituitary gland. She said its probably nothing to be worried about but I do need an MRI of my brain since that is where the gland is located. I will keep you all updated. I love you guys!!
Friday, September 13, 2013
The Last Month of my Life
So, August 9th I was admitted to Hendrie CRU, two weeks later, on a Wendesday, I was discharged I ended up being readmitted that Friday and was there until September 4th. September 4th I was discharged back to Common Ground's screening center where no one cared. I was crying and telling them that if they sent me back to where I was staying I would overdose, hearing this the doctor said "If you overdose, God Bless You.", and he sent me on my way.
I was back in reality for a few hours and, even though I was in a house where I knew I was loved, after a few hours of being there I overdosed. I just couldn't handle life anymore.
Then, I thought of the family I would be doing this to I thought of April, Chuck, Kate, Ben, and Karl and how last year they lost Willis to suicide and how just recently they lost a family friend to suicide. Those thoughts, those people are the reason I called 911. They are the reason I am still alive.
A bunch of cops showed up, a firetruck showed up, and an ambulance showed up. I was patted down to make sure I didn't have any weapons, I was asked to tell the story over and over. All of this while my heart was racing, my head didn't quite feel right, and I could barely keep myself upright, and through all that I could do was wonder "Is this what it was like when they found Willis?", "What have I done to these people who have done noting but care about me?".
I was escorted to the ambulance, each step taking great amounts of concentration. People were staring.
I don't think there was ever a point in my life where I felt worse about myself. These people opened their home to me, and all I did was hurt them.
In the ambulance I was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. My heart was racing, my pulse was high, and my blood pressure was really low and getting lower and time went on.
When we got to the ER at Crittenton the first thing they did was stick a tube down my nose in the hopes of emptying my stomach of the pill fragments. It hurt so terribly bad, and I ended up puking all over myself. They emptied my stomach, but found no pill fragments, then they put charcoal down the tube to neutralize the chemicals from the pills. They did a EKG and put me back on a heart monitor. Physically, I was feeling better.
Not long after my arrival at the ER the moved me up to the cardiac floor because my heart still wasn't quite right. I was there overnight and was medically cleared the next day. One of the psychiatrists from the Behavioral Health Unit came down to talk to me, and decided I should be admitted to the unit.
A few hours later there I was, my freedom gone. They took most of my stuff, and did a body check. I soon discovered that I knew one of the patients, for reasons of confidentiality I cannot say her name. I was put in her room and we spent some time catching up. She was soon discharged and I miss her and worry about her everyday. The psychiatrist there put me on the highest does of my anti-depressant, gave me my Klonopin back, and changed my sleeping medication.
I then got a devastating phone call, I was homeless once again and this time my stuff was already packed and moved out. I cannot say I was shocked and I cannot say that I am mad, but I am upset. The only reason I am upset is because I found out through someone else, not the people I was staying with. It's just that I am getting really sick of people not saying things to me directly.
I tried finding a new place to go but it wasn't easy. Finally, I called a friend I have had since elementary school and asked if I could stay with her for a bit, she said yes and here I am. Looking for my next place to stay because I know I cannot stay here forever.
Life just keeps getting more and more unbearable and I don't know how or if I am going to be able to fight through this, but I do know that right now all I want is a place to stay long term so I can stop living out of duffle bags and suitcases.
I was back in reality for a few hours and, even though I was in a house where I knew I was loved, after a few hours of being there I overdosed. I just couldn't handle life anymore.
Then, I thought of the family I would be doing this to I thought of April, Chuck, Kate, Ben, and Karl and how last year they lost Willis to suicide and how just recently they lost a family friend to suicide. Those thoughts, those people are the reason I called 911. They are the reason I am still alive.
A bunch of cops showed up, a firetruck showed up, and an ambulance showed up. I was patted down to make sure I didn't have any weapons, I was asked to tell the story over and over. All of this while my heart was racing, my head didn't quite feel right, and I could barely keep myself upright, and through all that I could do was wonder "Is this what it was like when they found Willis?", "What have I done to these people who have done noting but care about me?".
I was escorted to the ambulance, each step taking great amounts of concentration. People were staring.
I don't think there was ever a point in my life where I felt worse about myself. These people opened their home to me, and all I did was hurt them.
In the ambulance I was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. My heart was racing, my pulse was high, and my blood pressure was really low and getting lower and time went on.
When we got to the ER at Crittenton the first thing they did was stick a tube down my nose in the hopes of emptying my stomach of the pill fragments. It hurt so terribly bad, and I ended up puking all over myself. They emptied my stomach, but found no pill fragments, then they put charcoal down the tube to neutralize the chemicals from the pills. They did a EKG and put me back on a heart monitor. Physically, I was feeling better.
Not long after my arrival at the ER the moved me up to the cardiac floor because my heart still wasn't quite right. I was there overnight and was medically cleared the next day. One of the psychiatrists from the Behavioral Health Unit came down to talk to me, and decided I should be admitted to the unit.
A few hours later there I was, my freedom gone. They took most of my stuff, and did a body check. I soon discovered that I knew one of the patients, for reasons of confidentiality I cannot say her name. I was put in her room and we spent some time catching up. She was soon discharged and I miss her and worry about her everyday. The psychiatrist there put me on the highest does of my anti-depressant, gave me my Klonopin back, and changed my sleeping medication.
I then got a devastating phone call, I was homeless once again and this time my stuff was already packed and moved out. I cannot say I was shocked and I cannot say that I am mad, but I am upset. The only reason I am upset is because I found out through someone else, not the people I was staying with. It's just that I am getting really sick of people not saying things to me directly.
I tried finding a new place to go but it wasn't easy. Finally, I called a friend I have had since elementary school and asked if I could stay with her for a bit, she said yes and here I am. Looking for my next place to stay because I know I cannot stay here forever.
Life just keeps getting more and more unbearable and I don't know how or if I am going to be able to fight through this, but I do know that right now all I want is a place to stay long term so I can stop living out of duffle bags and suitcases.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
I Have To Go (A Poem)
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
I have to go
Though I love you so
Strength is fading
The pills are aiding
My suicide
Slipping away
Keeping tears
At bay
I'm dying
Bleeding cuts
Mind filled with
"what ifs" and "buts"
My heart slows
I hate to leave you alone
These cuts
Cannot be sewn
I whisper
"I'm sorry"
As I die alone
Saturday, August 24, 2013
This Is Probably Not Good...
So I know this might not be something people want to read but I need to get it out and I'm not forcing anyone to read this.
On thursday I cut myself. This would just be something I normally do and it wouldn't bother me except for the fact that this time it didn't hurt. I cut my arms and thighs and I felt nothing but a calm peacefulness...no pain. Usually it hurts...a lot. So I'm kinda freaking out...has it really been something I've done for such a long time that my body is used to it? That would be a possibility but I hadn't done it in 6 months so my body is not used to it anymore. This is not good...
A Long Few Days
It has been a long few days ...i was discharged from Hendrie House on wednesday and went straight back to common ground. After a few hours common ground sent me home with an appointment to go to thursday morning. I went to my appointment thursday and was completely honest with my doctor and therapist about my suicidal ideations and plan but they didn't do anything to help me and just sent me back home. Later on thursday I went to the emergency room. I went to the ER instead of straight to common ground because when you go to the ER they put you on a petition and cert. Those are legal documents that basically mean I could not leave common ground on my own once I got there. This was good because last september I left common ground and overdosed the next day. I spent all night thursday in the ER and went to common ground friday morning. Common ground was really frustrating because they wanted to send me back home and it seemed like they didn't want to help me. After a few hours I finally convinced them I needed more help and they decided to send me back to Hendrie. I had to sit there all day while they did the paperwork but finally I got back here to Hendrie. I was welcomed back with open arms and after days of crying and panic attacks I was able to laugh and feel safe. I'm really hoping it helps this time!
Monday, August 12, 2013
Back in Recovery
So, as of last Friday I am back in recovery. I'm back at Hendrie House. It's a really good place to be. The staff are so kind and supportive. I was welcomed back with hugs, something I need on a regular basis. The groups here are helpful for the most part, though some of them are substance abuse groups which are hard to relate to. Another good thing is the seemingly unlimited amounts of Jolly Ranchers. On a serious note as much as I am thankful to be here instead of in a hospital, I wish I didn't need to be here. They switched up my meds...took me off of my Wellbutrin because one of the side effects is anxiety and I have been having really bad anxiety. The doctor also put me on an anti anxiety medication that I have no idea how to spell. Its helped so far. I haven't been rocking back and forth and I haven't been having racing thoughts. So far so good. Hopefully when I get out of here I won't need to come back, but if I do I will.
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