[PromisesToKeep]

I have been hiding behind a facade all my life.

"How are you, Colleen?"
I am friggin' screaming inside if you want the God's honest truth and I have no idea why no one can hear me... why can't you, even you?
"I'm Great," I reply, "And you?"
I am contemplating the pills I have at home and where I can hide where no one will find me, so the pain would finally end.
"Well, all is good with the family. Sure am looking forward to skiing season. I have to go now. Good to see ya! Have a nice day."
Is that a command or a request? Either way, I don't know how. Have I ever had a nice day? Why can't you hear me screaming? I beg, as they walk away. Come back. Please don't leave. I will be all alone. Again. I won't make it. I can't take it. Again.
I see the tail lights fade into the distance and my hope fades with it. I put my plan into effect. I go home and collect the vile vials, stop at the little store on the corner with the Indian proprietor who has always been so nice to me. He and his wife are Christian. I place my carton of chocolate milk on the counter and he rings the total into the register. I hand him a five and refuse the change. He looks at me quizzically and I tell him,
"For your child." He then smiles and offers me our usual parting comments.
"God be with you." I have no use for money anymore. That was the last cash I had with me. The rest of it is in the drawer with my jewelry to be shared between my daughters. I have already arranged to have my body donated to the medical school.
God. Where the hell has he been all my life? I have been hearing all about this blessed trinity crap and he touches everyone but me. The forsaken. The exiled. The damned. I am going to hell and I don't care anymore. My heavenly Father is no different than my earthly father. Neither ever wanted me. Neither ever loved me. Neither cared. Neither was there. Alone.
"And also with you." I glance behind me as I push the door open, hearing the bell attached to the handle jingling softly. He watches me go, with wise eyes. I wonder if he knows. I wonder if he hears my silent screams. I pause briefly but met by his silence, I continue on my way. It is done. The last human I will ever meet. His words echo in my head... "and also with you...." I didn't get it. I never did. I just knew the script.
I parked behind the seedy hotel, next to the satellite dish, in the shade of the young palms. No one would come here. I would be alone. This time, I would succeed. This time, my screams would be silenced. This time, the pain would end.
I kept swallowing, pill after pill, handful after handful, vial after vial... eight vials in all. Opiates, anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, benzodiazepines, muscle relaxers, NSAIDs, mood stabilizers, amphetamines. I looked at the vile vials. I had them filled that morning, they were empty as was my carton of milk. I became worried that it wouldn't suffice, that it wasn't enough. I did the math.
450 pills in all. I would not survive my cocktail for sure. Not this time. I did everything right. No one knew to find me, no one knew I was gone. No one knew I was on my way. No one knew I was going. Tears streamed down my face as I wrote short notes of apology to my daughters and then reclined my seat preparing for my eternal sleep.

I opened my eyes and saw white popcorned tiles and then a man and a woman came into view. My mouth and throat was dry as sand. I reached for my face but couldn't move my arms. I tried to speak but there was something lodged in my throat, I began to choke. The man told me to blow out and I could see the disgust in his face as he pulled the endotracheal tube from me. I was alive. How was this possible? I screwed up... again. I ran the calculations and the cocktail through my mind. No! It wasn't possible! I was supposed to be dead! It was supposed to be over! Why??? I'd even been rejected by the Devil himself. Eternal evil didn't even want me. I had already lost everything including my mind. I was so lost and knew of no way home, I had no home. I had no family. I had no love. I had no God.

"Ten days," he said. "We were just preparing to send you to a nursing home. We didn't think you were going to wake up. You wouldn't respond to pain. You are young, you are beautiful. Why?" I went to speak but my voice failed me the first time out, my throat was raw. I tried again.
"I was responding to the pain. Didn't you hear my screams?"
"No." The disgust was gone and pity took its place, it hurt even more.
"That's okay," I replied. "No one ever has." He left silently.
"How did I get here?" The woman replied curtly, all business as she was securing the ventilator.
"Ambulance"
"Aren't you a smart ***? I mean, how did you find me. I hid. I'm supposed to be dead."
"You were. The cable went out at the hotel and the owner went to check on the satellite. He found you and did CPR until the ambulance got there and took over. You owe him a blood debt. You owe him your life."

Ten years have passed but its only been five months since I last stared at popcorn ceilings being extubated once again. I failed again. I continue to hide, intellectualism my armor protecting me from touching another, from being touched. I reach out yet all I feel is the metal that encapsulates me. I am done attempting suicide. In the thirty years of trying, I have never succeeded so as I lay staring at those popcorn tiles, I surrendered. I decided to do everything just the opposite. I failed at everything I tried so I would do everything backward. I would attempt to live instead of attempt to die. I would attempt to know peace instead of pain. I would find my way home. Yet, I continue to hide, from you. I wear my armor and deliver you facts instead of letting you in. I know FEAR. False Evidence Appearing Real. Every time I have dared to let someone in, I have lived to rue the day. Why will it be any different even though you are faceless, voiceless. Yet, I know if I don't break through the brick walls, I have no hope of touching and being touched. God's children, the very one's he works through, just as he works through me today. I know him now. I want to know you. I am just so scared.

Thank you for patiently reading my missive, my memories, my plea,
Colleen

[Gus1234U]

aaah Coleen,,, been there, done that. the last time i made an attempt, i heard a little voice say: "change, or die". i knew, at that moment, i had a choice, that this time, i would not fail. and somehow i also knew that death would not save me from my pain, from the loss, from the shame, from all the things which chased me nite and day. i lived with the idea of suicide for a long long long time after that, but side by side with it, i was building a life. that was 19 yrs ago. today, i no longer think of dying as an escape, but only as the last thing i will do in this life. i do not flee, i face. i have endured the unendurable, i have outlasted eternity, and now there are times of peace, many of them. this is what i wish for you: Peace. I hope we get to meet in a chat room somewhere, sometime. don't be surprised if i don't remember you - the meds took so much from me, i'm still in recovery; but i'm still in recovery~ i am ,,, a companion on this earth, and perhaps beyond. Gus

[PromisesToKeep]

Originally Posted by Gus1234U

aaah Coleen,,, been there, done that. the last time i made an attempt, i heard a little voice say: "change, or die". i knew, at that moment, i had a choice, that this time, i would not fail. and somehow i also knew that death would not save me from my pain, from the loss, from the shame, from all the things which chased me nite and day. i lived with the idea of suicide for a long long long time after that, but side by side with it, i was building a life. that was 19 yrs ago. today, i no longer think of dying as an escape, but only as the last thing i will do in this life. i do not flee, i face. i have endured the unendurable, i have outlasted eternity, and now there are times of peace, many of them. this is what i wish for you: Peace. I hope we get to meet in a chat room somewhere, sometime. don't be surprised if i don't remember you - the meds took so much from me, i'm still in recovery; but i'm still in recovery~ i am ,,, a companion on this earth, and perhaps beyond. Gus

Thank you. I too am in recovery and today I do know peace, yet I know that it will be fleeting if I don't get honest and don't get vulnerable. Doing the right thing and doing the easy thing is seldom the same thing.
Colleen

[PT52]

PTK - thank you for sharing; I know it was probably one of the hardest things you've ever done.

I have to say, though, that it is beautifully written...I wish you would share it with the world. I know of a place - an online literary journal - that I think would probably love to publish it...let me know when (or if) you think you're ready.

Thanks again.

[greylove]

I keep re-reading your words. So many of them spoke to me......so many could have been written by me. I'm holding back. PC has become my home. These wonderful people are becoming my friends. But I'm holding back. I want to talk, I want to open up to people, to share my story, but at the same time, I'm compelled to hide it. I understand when you say you are scared......I am too. I'll always be here if you want to open up.......a PM away

[madisgram]

keep hope in your life, ptk. it was what saved me. i prayed for it and my prayer was answered. i hope the same for you.
oh and i understand you're scared but many of us have experienced that despair and we are here for you as others were here for us.

[PromisesToKeep]

Originally Posted by greylove

I keep re-reading your words. So many of them spoke to me......so many could have been written by me. I'm holding back. PC has become my home. These wonderful people are becoming my friends. But I'm holding back. I want to talk, I want to open up to people, to share my story, but at the same time, I'm compelled to hide it. I understand when you say you are scared......I am too. I'll always be here if you want to open up.......a PM away

You're scared too? You're holding back? You want to tell a story? You tell me you are always here, that you are but a PM away... (what is a PM?) Well... I shook with fear, typed horribly as a result and couldn't see my screen because I alternated between silent tears streaming down my face and outright sobbing. Its part of the healing process. I am grieving. I am isolated. I am afraid. Time to ante up, my friend.

I sat down at the table with my chips and Im all in. This is a life and death matter to me. Protecting your anonymity is of the utmost importance to me but I willingly sacrificing my own as I have no shame. I didn't do anything wrong. This is a genetic condition and I am doing the best I can. In revealing myself to others, I can allow others to contact me at their will in hopes that I can touch the life of one other person. I want to demystify mental illness as much as I am able and advocate for those who won't or can't speak for themselves. Even in this forum, I detect a lot of hurt, shame and fear... that others may judge them for having a mental illness even though they have the home field advantage here.

Its hard to stand up and say, I am Colleen, I am Bipolar, I suffer from mental illness and I am not ashamed... and be honest when saying it. So, someone had to step up to the plate and I want to stay in recovery more than I want anything else in my life. For if I do not have recovery, I do not have sanity. If I do not have sanity, I will end up under the popcorn tiles again or on some med student's anatomy table. Can you imagine the horror and devastation that would put my mother and daughters through? I am going to love them enough until I am able to love myself to fight to recover, to fight to stay honest, to fight to be vulnerable, to fight for my life. Are you willing to join me in battle, privately?

If so, send me a message privately and we will start a conversation. I have to let others in. I don't know if I am ready or willing to do that on the forum level, I summoned up as much brass as I could to make the post that I did. We will get honest. We will share. We will grow. We will learn to trust. We will learn to be vulnerable. We will learn to be strong. And most importantly, we will recover. You are only as alone as you want to be.

hugs, Colleen

[greylove]

Yes, yes, and yes, Colleen.......I will be there. Thank you......(((((hugs)))))

Wow, Colleen. That is one of the most powerful posts I've ever read anywhere. Crying? You better believe it. Have to admit I don't think I'm there. Correction: I KNOW I'm not. Nowhere near, really. But I wanted to let you know that it would not be possible to admire your goal any more than I do, sitting here right now. Thank you so very very much for posting it, (and not freaking out and rescinding it). Wishing you and all who likewise endeavor the most earnest wishes possible for every success with this even beyond your wildest dreams.... Truly.

[BNLsMOM]

Amazing post. Thank you for opening up so beautifully.

[Trippin2.0]

Thanks for posting this ♥

[WendyAussie]

PTK, I very much relate to the facade that is required to operate in life, even when we are literally dying inside. To be frank, I don't really know the answer to that because of the real stigma, bigotry, fear and rejection that comes with being a person with Bipolar Disorder who is "out" with family, friends and former work bosses. It seems that the facade is in fact a necessary thing to be accepted. I think society has such a long way to go in terms of a preparedness to understand our illnesses - and I think it takes a degree of courage from those family, friends and colleagues to give it a go to try and learn. The vast majority have turned away and relegating people with mental illness to the edges of society and denying them the deserved benefits of a social support network is the single worst thing you could do to someone like me.

As to suicide, it wasn't for lack of trying on my part, or a preparedness to change, which someone mentioned that led me to make a 100% serious attempt. I was 100% meds compliant, worked on therapy, was years sober in AA. But unfortunately there can sometimes be other factors. I was grossly mis-prescribed for 6 years (I didn't know that SSRI's can be contraindicated for some people, even with mood stabilisers). And as a result every single thing eventually slipped from my life and then nearly my life itself.

At 43, on the Disability Support Pension (Australia) after having had and lost a wonderful career, the life presented before me could be no further away from the life I envisioned as a young woman. But I am daily in a progression to a passion for a new but different life and an identity that I can be proud of - it's hard to have absolutely everything stripped from you. I am on the best meds mix I've ever been on, I embrace therapy and my continued passion for AA. It's still very hard, I relapse either into Hypomania and then major episodes of Biplar Depression and suicidality and also panic and anxiety disorders as well as PTSD. But as glacially slow is my recovery, it's still a recovery.

You know, we see acts of enormous courage on the TV every night - people climbing mountains or breaking records, but I really think that people with mental illness are champions too - we climb that mountain every single day, again and again.