depressionsucks

Anybody else hate seasonal depression. Like mine is so bad during winter ; I turn into this person I don`t recognize and then as soon as the seasonal winter depression is "over" I go back to being the person I was before and its just so confusing! I hate it like it makes me feel so not normal. #depressionsucks

I am a survivor of #Suicide . I live with the guilt every. damn. day. So why tell my story now? I want to feel liberated. I want to #EndTheStigma . And I want people to know why and how and when. So that maybe they can see the signs or the #triggers for someone they love who might be struggling.

This is me. This is my story. And this is me at my most vulnerable.

First, an introduction. I’m a 36-year-old, former PR pro turned #sahm and housewife. I struggle with #Depression and extreme #Anxiety . I’m #neurodivergent , you’ll quickly come to realize just how #ADHD I really am, and I’ve recently been diagnosed with #borderlinepersonality disorder.

So that's me. Definitely not a princess and I don't wear a cape. I'm still hopeful for a happily ever after, though.

And now, some context.

It's important to understand that I've felt unlovable all of my life. Growing up in a traumatic home and seeing more hate than love had its toll on me. And being emotionally abused and neglected as a child and having it continued through my adulthood continually makes me feel unworthy of love. Despite my efforts to be the best daughter I can possibly be, I get constant reminders of my selfishness. My unhelpfulness. My failures. It's just facts. I'm in therapy, don't worry.

It wasn't until I met my husband at 19 years old that I experienced unconditional love from someone other than my brother, my grandparents (RIP), and my pets. To this day, I still don't believe it or understand it. I'm hard to love and I don't grasp how someone can love all of me - with everything that comes with me. Skeletons and all. I still don't love myself. I'm in therapy, don't worry ;-)

Ok, now for the story.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: depression, suicide, self-harm, self-hate.

It was the morning of Monday, November 18, 2019. I had suffered a weeklong streak of migraines and hadn't left our bed in almost as long. I was depressed, and I was well off meds because I couldn't keep food or water down. I was exhausted and hopeless. At the time, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, #Insomnia , and ADHD. I was in a complete state of psychosis. I had no idea and neither did my husband.

In the most loving way possible, my husband was over my sickness and depression. He'd been single parenting our 4-year-old for over a week, and he needed his wife back. We fought. About what, I can't remember. It doesn't matter but whatever it was sent me into a downward spiral I couldn't climb out of.

This is where everything gets foggy, or completely dark. My mind has blocked most if not all of the rest.

Like a zombie (or so I'm told), I got out of bed, threw on some scrubby clothes, got my son dressed and fed, and walked him over to the neighbor's house for childcare that day. I don't remember any of that part, at all. My hubby said my face was blank and my eyes were vacant.

In my brain, the wheels were already turning. This was a feeling I was intimately familiar with. My comfort blanket. How many different ways could I imagine dying this time? If only I could just disappear and not come back. It would be so easy. So simple. No one would miss me. I'm a burden to so many. They're basically living without me already.

After dropping my son off at daycare, I returned to bed. Hubby had more words with me before leaving for work. After he was gone, I googled, "How much Xanax does it take to kill yourself?" and "Can you die from too many muscle relaxers?"

Five minutes later, I swallowed my entire prescription: 30 tablets of 2mg #Xanax .

As a topper, I also poured 15 muscle relaxers down my throat, left over from my car accident in early April. Or was it from my wisdom tooth removal? So many procedures and pain meds and illicit prescriptions to choose from. I then ditched the bottles to make it harder for the EMTs to identify what I'd taken. I'd planned this meticulously in my mind for years.

I sat forward and said my goodbyes to the dogs. The longest goodbye and cries for Duke, of course. Kisses for Cooper; he couldn't understand what was happening, but Duke was completely aware. Duke jumped on the bed and put his head in my lap. I cried as I said my goodbyes out loud to my son (as if he could hear me from afar), reassuring him that his life would be full of joy and accomplishments without the burden of his overweight, depressed, mess of a mom. I'd be there in spirit, I said. Watching him succeed and rooting him on, always. I cried and wished that my husband would find new love and hope. That all his dreams and wishes would come true. That life would be good for him because he is an amazing man that deserves the world.

I drifted off.

When I awoke two days later I was hooked up to machines from my neck and both wrists. My husband was right by my side and my brother came into view.

I remember thinking, "Fuck, how the FUCK am I still here?!"

So here's what I'm told.

After hubby left for work, he ran a few errands close to home. Before getting on the freeway, however, he got a *weird feeling* in his gut and decided to backtrack home to check on me before heading into Seattle for work. Thank god he did. He saved my life and he will forever be my hero.

When my husband arrived home, he called out for me. Nothing.

He found me upstairs, unconscious and blue in the face. I was halfway fallen off the bed.

He called 911 and immediately started CPR at the operator's direction.

It was six long minutes before paramedics arrived.

They couldn't identify what I'd taken and were unsure if Narcan should be used for overdose.

My heart had stopped. I wasn't breathing.

It took nearly 8 minutes for them to get a heartbeat.

With a faint heartbeat, I was quickly transferred to the ambulance and rushed to NW Hospital in North Seattle. After life-saving measures were taken, I'm told that doctors placed me in an induced coma to allow my organs to heal and regain strength after shutting down. I was on a ventilator to support my lungs, and another machine to pump my heart. Once the doctors took me out of the coma, they slowly removed me from the heart machine as I grew stronger. The ventilator came next. I finally awoke.

What's happened next? You'll have to follow my next posts to read more.

#MentalHealthAwareness #MentalHealth #SuicidePrevention #depressionsucks

So, had hard day. So much negativity towards me from my mom. I got up and took a walk with my sons girlfriend. I don’t need fucking negativity in my life. I don’t even watch the news because of it. I’m thinking about my childhood I don’t remember ever finding joy or having enthusiasm. I remember stuttering whenever my dad would raise his voice or yell. Later to find out that’s part of #AnxietyAttack . I remember to laying in bed at 5 afraid to go to sleep because I was afraid of dying or afraid my parents were going to die again #Anxiety . My whole life was abuse from 8-12 #SexualAbuse /#Incest . Later on met my X husband #EmotionalAbuse . I’m done venting #MajorDepressiveDisorder #PTSD #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorde

Having depression sucks! And what sucks worse is when you are doing all the things that you know to do to manage your depression, then life happens and wham! Depression knocks you on your a** again! I just feel like, “what is the point?” I have absolutely no energy for life. The mental, physical, emotional, & spiritual energy to exist is exhausting. I just don’t want to be here anymore. I am so lonely and feel so hopeless. What’s worse is I have to work extra shifts to afford to go back to therapy again. #depressionsucks

Soo, here it is...this is the first time on a long time i've been this depressed....to the point I'm sick...stomach problems...I haven't eaten well in almost two days...I have no friends in this area, barely hear from my family and so called friends at home...all i do is work, come home, and imbibe....I miss being social..my s/o is extremely introverted and doesn't realize I'm suffering, or pushes it to his mental rolodex file WAYYY in the back...my customers love me, but sometimes I feel I'm faking the funk with them,and that's not ok...and soo tired....I work early and sleep the majority of the day...it's easy to suggest to someone that they should invest in a hobby, but when your motivation is low, there's no such thing...excuse me while i get in the bed now...hope everything is well with eveyone.... #imsootired #idontfeelgood #depressionsucks

I have plans to get stuff done, make to do lists, get stuff ready for my projects…and here I sit. I sit and waste all day either sleeping or mindlessly scrolling fb. My brain can not make by body get up. I feel lazy. Housework is suffering. I’m mad at myself but I can not make me do anything about it. Why? Kids are grown and good people, I have a house I can afford, a good paying job. Lonely yes, but I have too many pets that keep me company. I guess I’m still mad husband died of a heart attack 6 years ago when kids were in high school. I wanted to get old with him. I WANT to do things and have a house clean enough to not be embarrassed if i need a repairman to come. I have plenty of time to, I JUST CANT. I know it’s depression, it runs rampant in my family. I was diagnosed 15+ years ago. I can’t remember to take pills every day, but I can remember to give the dogs theirs, and it is ridiculously inconvenient-crush pills,mix w/ special food, separate dogs..Why can’t I just take mine then too? It takes too much effort. I feel i’m not living, i’m existing. I don’t like it, but I don’t have the energy to change it. I need to do better. I want to do better and more than just barely exist as a lump on the couch. I’ll sometimes be good for a few days, then a small setback wrecks it. Stupid stuff, like not having the rightsize basket to organize. Not having the exact piece of furniture i need to organize or rearrange. That particular dish is dirty. I left something in the car. A normal person would work around the basket, or use a different one, wash the damn bowl, go get the bag out of the car. Why can’t i? I’m pretty normal. Maybe I’ll look up counselors at work thursday when i’m by myself. I need to keep trying. My mom is proud of me for being so strong and independent, but she doesn’t know this part. I usually can play it off alright. But i don’t want to. I want to be happy. #depressionsucks

#depressionsucks I tale so mich care to sleep 8 or more hours a night and still feel sluggish, tired, and fatigued. I am beyond frustrated today. I wish I could just feel bettrr already. It's hard to be who I want to be. I struggle so much, I feel like I'm playing catch up with myself. And night school tonight! I feel really discouraged and even more sleepy!