Well... January 26th I drove out to a cemetery and took most of my pills. I prayed to God that He would do what He wanted and that I was so sorry - I just couldn't do anymore, I still believe in Him, I just didn't know what else to do. I woke up vaguely the next morning as people came around the car and knocked on the windows, trying to figure out what I was doing parked there. I was SO out of it... I think I tried to tell them I was ok, but I obviously wasn't as I drifted in and out of consciousness, so at some point they must've called 911. I think the police got there first - I think they thought I'd been doing drugs - I remember showing them the empty medicine bottles because I knew my attempt was over and this was easier - they'd find them eventually. When the ambulance arrived they helped me out of the car - I remember that I thought I could stand and take the steps to the stretcher, but my legs gave out under me... it was so weird to me.
I was unconscious then again until late that day, I'm told that in the meantime I was intubated at the hospital and in ICU a while. It wasn't until that time that they were able to get out of me how to contact my family... who had filed a missing person's report on me the night before, and I'd left them so incredibly worried... it's horrible what I did to them, I hate it. I didn't know what else to do... My family and some friends visited me that night. I felt so guilty. And it was so strange, because my mind still wasn't working right. I would think and say weird things, and they would nod, smile, and/or look concerned. I could tell I wasn't making sense, but I couldn't change it. It wasn't until the next day that I started making sense, and around 5 the medical hospital decided I was stable medically and sent me to the psychiatric hospital. I was SO suicidal, all I could think of was how hopeless and horrible everything was - how stuck I was between having nothing more to try to help me and being convinced I needed to die, and knowing how horrible it would be for the people I care about if I did it. I felt it was inevitable that I'd succeed in suicide some day, that I should just get it over with.
But while I had been told that there were no more medicines for me to try, one new doctor came who believed in trying stimulants in treatment-resistant depression. Even the experts I'd seen hadn't thought of this. So I was prescribed Concerta (ritalin), and this immediately began to help, giving me energy, motivation and clearer thoughts. It surprised me so much! And now I have hope... I can't believe it. So I got out of the hospital Friday, and have been keeping busy since then.
Things are still really difficult - while I was in the hospital both of my bank accounts were overdrawn by unauthorized charges, and I'm still working on getting one of those reversed. I have a bunch of mail I'm trying to figure out, and college loans coming off deferral. I'm trying to get into college again, which would put the loans back on deferral, but that's another difficult process, and means figuring out financial aid again. My case manager petitioned for me to have a guardian after my last suicide attempt - which probably would be good if I were still stuck that way, but with the new medicine I'm perfectly capable of making good decisions, so I have to try to convince a judge of this tomorrow - or at least get her to accept my father as my guardian. I had been given a laptop as part of my tuition at the school I was attending last year, and while they've been extremely understanding of my situation up until now, they're about to really start pushing for it's return very soon - which includes registering it as a stolen item with the police if I don't get it back to them in a timely manner. Though I am hoping that they will allow me to keep it if I can register for Fall classes there - as I plan to as long as I can convince the administration that I can handle returning. I still haven't gotten around to moving my things out of the dorm there, which is ok for now because my roommate is my friend and the only one left in that room, and she's not bothered by my stuff and using some of it, but I do need some of the stuff, and I need to officially move out - returning the room key, etc. And I really need to do some major cleaning and force myself into an exercise schedule - which is difficult to get into with all these other things to worry about and take care of.
But I really think I can handle it. That's so different from how I've been. And some things are starting to work out - today I received notification in the mail that I've been approved for disability and re-approved for Medicaid - which had run out the 31st of January, the month I turned 21. And when my uncle learned I was looking for a car he gave me the one he'd just replaced, so my brother made a few repairs on it and the only cost I had was the price of the parts. So I guess things are working out.
I'm thankful God keeps holding on to me and doesn't let me get away with suicide...