Two years. 731 days. 17,544 hours. 2 years can seem like a lifetime or seconds depending on what your situation. 2 years ago today was a life changing day for me. It seems like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at the same time. I will never forget how I felt, the smells, the way the lights shone. It’s to significant.
2 years ago today I marched in a Christmas parade for work. This picture was taken right before the parade. I was smiling, waving, throwing candy the whole nine yards. No one would’ve known the storm brewing inside me. The battle raging in my head and heart. I went home and made decision to call my therapist first thing Monday morning. That therapist at the time wasn’t a good fit for me, but she was all I had. I didn’t feel free to talk to her in a crisis. But with my parents there at the lowest moment of my life I called her.
I admitted that two days prior, I came home from work at my worst. I felt worthless and like a burden to everyone in my circle. I felt nothing but darkness. I couldn’t see any hope. I was completely hopeless. In that moment rock bottom would’ve been a step up. I couldn’t see any way to relieve those around me of my horrible self. I hated myself. I hated how I made myself feel. I hated I couldn’t just be normal. I was too damaged. I was used and dirty. I was broken. Hopeless. Beyond repair. Past the point of healing. With no other recourse I locked myself in the bathroom. I grabbed a bottle of prescription muscle relaxers. I opened the bottle and felt the pills in my hand. I wondered if there was enough to do the job. I didn’t want to mess this up like I did everything else.
Then my saving grace. My ray of hope. My daughter who I call Grace knocked on the door and said “Mom I need you”. In reality she needed help with her homework. What I heard in that sentence was I need you to stay alive. I need you to be here. I need my mom. I couldn’t hurt my kids like that. I flushed the pills, wiped my tears and opened the bathroom door. My saving Grace has no idea she saved my life.
I could’ve kept it to myself. No one knew what I was going to do. Here’s the thing, I was tired of fighting this battle. My kids needed me. In a huge way, I needed them too. I didn’t want mental illness(depression) to win. So I told my husband, who I was separated from at the time, that I needed help. I had to swallow my pride in a big way. My parents came to Kentucky from St Louis. On Monday morning I called my therapist. I told her what happened. She called the hospital and told them I was coming. My parents and my husband drive me an hour away to a good hospital. The hardest thing I ever did was walk into that hospital knowing I would be put on a 72 hour hold.
My experience at the hospital wasn’t great. It wasn’t some great turning point. I didn’t receive help. I got medicine that made me a zombie. I remember staring at the wall for an hour realizing I was doing but unable to stop. I got a five second diagnosis that wasn't even right. How can you diagnose properly after a short conversation? I went to group sessions where we did crossword puzzles and one where the chaplain told us we had wounds. Well duh! The hospital was actually not a good place for me to be so I just did everything they said so I could be released and get out of there. Maybe someday I will do a blog about the hospital. Right now I’m just going to say we have a long way to go in our care of mental health patients.
Two years ago I decided to save my life. 731 days ago I decided I need a diagnosis, I needed to know the battle I was fighting. 17,544 hours ago I decided my kids were worth surviving for. I decided to get help with a therapist that could and would help me. Two years ago I started the journey to healing. I’ve faced some hard things and put in hard work. I’ve accepted I have PTSD. I’ve accepted I have been through trauma and I had wounds to heal. It’s amazing how far a person can come in two years.
I’ve found there is hope. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. If your hurting, you don’t have to stay there. Please do not be afraid to reach out. I was terrified I would be judged but admitting I was going to take my life is the best thing I did to start healing. It’s hard I know it is. Find someone you trust, talk to them. Call a therapist. Call crisis line. Just reach out. My goal is that no one else loses their life to suicide. If I can help in any way please contact me. Message me, I will do what I can to connect you to resources that will help. You are not alone.
