As the title suggests, this post is about suicidal thoughts. The incessant, soul destroying thoughts and feelings that rage around my mind day after day, night after night, that everyone would be better off if I wasn’t here.
It was probably incredibly naiive of me to think that getting off co-codamol and onto subutex would be the beginning of real recovery from the demons that live inside me. I truly believed in December that by coming off the subutex would be an enlightening experience in that I would see the error of my ways and that I could finally pick myself back up and move forward with my life.
What a fucking idiot I was!
It’s been far from enlightening. It’s not been the road to recovery and well-being that I had some how convinced myself it would be. Instead I have slowly, but steadily spiralled back into what my counsellor and best friend would call depression.
Instead of recognising the signs of this I’ve just continued to sink into this black abyss where there seems like there’s no escape. It envelopes my every waking moment and terrifies those times when I sleep.
My self-loathing seems to know no end. It doesn’t diminish despite by best efforts to ignore it. Instead it grows like a cancer, eating away at all that I am and what I might be.
Today I have experienced the most intense suicidal thoughts I’ve had in about a year. Because I am no longer addicted to co-codamol and don’t take the mountain of anti-depressants, anti-psychotics and sleeping pills, my supply of possible overdose pills has gone. I have nothing to take. I have considered getting my script redone for zopiclone but it’s been awhile and I’m not sure they will give me the meds. On top of that it’s Easter so the surgery is shut until Tuesday.
I considered using my blades and slitting my wrists, but something stops me from going any further than just cutting in the form of self-harm. I’m not sure why I can’t do it…but something bothers me about it.
For the past couple of weeks I have noticed that I have had more vivid thoughts and desires about taking pills. It’s a nagging thought that has grown stronger daily. I’ve tried to distract from these thoughts and feelings by throwing myself into my work for university. It’s been tough but I managed to take an exam and hand in a piece of work on Wednesday. The first piece that I’ve actually managed to do this year! I should feel proud of the achievement. But instead I feel like I haven’t done enough.
I passed the exam too, 73%. I wasn’t expecting that at all! I thought 40% would be such a relief and in its own way an achievement. But my result was beyond my expectations and I should have been thrilled. But instead I feel that I didn’t do enough, that I should have worked harder and done better. I essentially let myself down.
I have an essay outstanding…I didn’t get it done in time and now have to submit it late with mitigating circumstances. I have exams at the end of April beginning of May followed by having to write 8 essays which I got deferred because I was too fucked up to write them.
I feel like I’ve let everyone down by not being able to focus or concentrate on the work. Reading has been really hard going and my brain just never fucking shuts up.
My marriage has been on a thin thread for a couple of years and despite my best efforts it remains there. My friend pointed out to me that the fact we are both still in it and trying is a good sign. In many ways I can see her sense in this and can acknowledge even that it’s a big thing that we are both still working on it.
But I hide things, my suicidal thoughts and depression, from him and the kids because I don’t want them to know how shit I’m really feeling. I just say I’m tired or have a headache. Sometimes the easiest excuse is that I’m stressed about the amount of work I’ve got to do.
At times I feel so alone and disconnected from everyone. I dissociate quite a lot, especially when I am with my counsellor. I don’t mean to. It just happens. She pulls me back and knows when I’m going which shows how well she’s getting to know me.
I hide how I feel so much of the time. My head drives me crazy. The constant negative thoughts about myself, about my past. What I can and can’t do. The fact that my 30’s are racing me by and yet my mind is stuck in another time and place. My body grows older but I’m mentally somewhere between 6 and 24. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m an adult. I am overwhelmed by the responsibilities of being a wife and mother. I frequently want to runaway and not have to worry about anyone elses feelings. I know that’s incredibly selfish, but it’s how I feel and no matter how much I berate myself, sometimes these feelings are more than I can bear.
So there I go, back to this thought, to this intense feeling that I would do everyone and enormous favour if i just wasn’t here.
Let’s face it. It’s my own fault that I am so fucked up. I never should have allowed the things to happen that did. I should have stopped so many of them and then perhaps wouldn’t be this shit storm teetering on the edge of exploding.
There is one thing that stops me. The lack of any pills. I do have a fear that whatever is on the other side might be worse and that does scare me. My children should be my reason for not doing anything but right now I feel they’d be better off without me. A thought which distresses me and makes me feel totally worthless and empty.