A New Confession

I have a confession to make, but I am ashamed. I know that being ashamed is counterproductive and it is negative self-talk, but it is there. Here goes; I “jumped off the cliff,” a few weeks ago I had a huge crisis and instead of calling for help I overdosed on medication and ended up in the hospital. The bright side of this is that I have found an awesome psychiatrist and am in a therapy group that is really helping.

I feel, I felt like a failure. I was doing so good and then everything came crashing down on me. No one heard me and I was yelling because I know that I was using my skills before the jump. I could not make anyone understand that I was doing what was needed to help my child.

OK, here is the scenario: My husband and I agreed to let my daughter come live with us because she was going through some hard times. One of the stipulations was that she quit drinking and get a job. Everything was going great until she continually got caught drinking and she quit her job. Trust me there is more to that, but explaining it is crazy all on it’s own. Because I was enforcing the rules, it became a power struggle. She began to play both sides against the middle, causing my husband and I to fight.

Well then came the big guns, my daughter called my mother. She told my mom that I was a bully and that I was being a bitch to my husband etc, etc, etc….. Bullshit, she was mad because I told her she had to go and I did not care where. My daughter is about to be 30years old and acts like a teenager. She has anxiety issues and we got her on medication and she was supposed to be talking to a therapist. Not sure she was talking to the therapist, but knew she was taking her medicine. However, she was still drinking which makes the medicine invalid on top of the fact it could have killed her. But I was the one that was wrong.

I was the one that ultimately ended up attempting suicide and taken to the emergency room, totally unaware of any of that because of the OD, and after two days in the hospital, off to the psychiatric hospital I went.

There is a lot more to that story, but I don’t have the energy to relive the whole thing again. Also there is no one thing that caused my crash and jump off the cliff. I just got to my breaking point somewhere I believed I had under control. I guess what I am trying to say is be aware of how close your cliff is so that you can hopefully stop before you jump.

I know that I did a lot of things wrong, but in my mind I was doing a lot of things right. All I could do was run as fast as I could and jump because I had gone past the point of no return. Trust me it was ugly and I scared the shit out of my husband and my mother and myself. This is the closest to dying intentionally I have gotten in all my attempts. At the time I was more determined to get out of here. It was a really BAD place to be and I am realizing that I really like my life.

It doesn’t matter why and what lead me to my decision to take my life, it is the “that I tried to take my life,” that is the issue. It is the “distance to the cliff,” the “point of no return,” That is the issue.

Don’t wait until it is at those points, scream for help, go to the emergency room and ask for help. “ASK FOR HELP!!!” that is what I did not do. There is always a choice, just don’t wait until your brain switch turns to the “NO CHOICE,” Life is worth living.

Be kind to yourself!

Lunatic Fringe Forever!!!!!!!!!

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