This year has been a rough one for me. I have not blogged as much as I would have liked, but you were never far from my mind. My kids are young. I am homeschooling and working to balance many things in my life. Life is always about finding the balance.
I am heading into 2017 with more balance for my own life. The past several months have been particularly difficult. I have been struggling with anxiety and depression. I have been on medication for anxiety since August. I have been working with my doctor to find the right medication and the right dose..it has been a struggle to say the least.
In November, I fell into a deep depression, which was interesting to me because the anxiety side of things seemed to be improving. Life was going great. my husband just got a promotion at work, I found a new church family, I am surrounded by friends who love me, the kids are doing well in school…But somehow, in mid December, I took a turn for the worse and was admitted to the hospital and put on a 72 hour hold by the state. It felt as though my mind was taking over my body and it wanted to kill me.
Tuesday morning I took the kids to Mom and Dad’s because I was at the end of my rope and needed a personal day. The night before I thought about drowning myself in the bathtub…I was maxed out for too long, and I was in the middle of switching medications. On my way home, I called my brother and told him my struggles and he prayed with me. I then stopped at a friend’s place of work and she left her meeting to pray with me. She made sure I had her phone number and told me to call if I felt I wasn’t safe by myself. I headed home.
I sat on the couch crocheting a scarf and watching TV. I got hungry and went to the kitchen to make eggs. I saw a knife sitting on the sink, and I looked it differently than I ever had. It looked like a tool to harm myself with, not a tool for cooking. I covered the knife up with a rag and continued cooking my eggs. The eggs burned…and I grabbed a fork to eat them. As I took the fork out of the drawer I wondered how much damage I could do to myself with a fork. I didn’t put it down, but carried it to the living room so that I could eat my eggs. The whole time I was eating I kept thinking and envisioning cutting myself and stabbing myself with a fork. I could see the blood..I set the fork down and called my brother.
He picked up the phone and I asked, “Hey, If I were to go to the hospital for suicidal thoughts, What would that look like?”
He started to explain it to me, and then not more than a minute later he asked me why. I told him about the fork and the knife. He asked for Scott’s phone number..and told me that I wasn’t allowed to hang up with him. I informed him about my friend who was working just a few blocks from my home and she said she would be here if I didn’t feel safe.
“Okay, call her. Call me right back. If I don’t hear from you in 5 minutes I will call the police to your house, ” he said.
I hung up with him and called my friend and told her I needed her here. She didn’t ask questions but simply said she was on her way. While I was waiting for her to show up, I returned the call to my brother. He talked with me until my friend arrived and then asked to speak with her. My brother and friend chatted for a few minutes. We then called Scott and made the decision that I was not safe to be on my own and that I should go to the hospital.
While in the hospital, my friend sat with me as I cried. She encouraged me and complimented me on how brave I was for being willing to get help. She was texted with Scott and my brother to keep them in the loop. Scott was talking with his boss and would join us soon.
The moment I entered the emergency room I knew something was different. The room was locked from the outside, nothing was in the room except a bed a and a funny looking faucet. There was a camera in the corner as well as window to the inside so the nurses could keep an eye on you. Nurses came in immediately and I had to strip down to my underwear and put on hospital scrubs. They took all my belongings. A nurse came in for my medical history, she was followed by a medical doctor was who followed by a psychiatrist. The staff was kind and the doctor was very sweet. The psychiatrist gave me the option of being admitted or going home. Scott had the next several days off so of course I wanted to go home. We were released and headed home. The kids stayed with mom and dad again…
The night was rough and the morning even more difficult. I kept having more crazy thoughts about hurting myself. Scott held me through the night. He comforted me as I cried. I asked him to hold on to me because I didn’t know what was going to happen next. The next morning I was getting ready in the bathroom and had to call Scott in. I was showering and wanted to burn my body with hot water…Scott came into the bathroom and kept me company. I was combing my hair and had the urge to open the medicine cabinet behind me and take all the pills. I called Scott into the bathroom again. Basically, He had to follow me everywhere I went. I didn’t trust myself and he was told by the doctors to keep an eye on me. I had an appointment that was previously scheduled with my therapist that afternoon. Scott had to drive me because I wanted to drive the car into the ditch to hit a tree. As soon as I walked into her office, my therapist knew something was up. I told her everything that was going on. I told her about my thoughts that had continued thought the night and into the next day. She told me that I needed to return to the hospital…