4 posts tagged “help”

Okay. So, today is Thursday. Tuesday was my first therapy session. Wow. I cant believe that I have a therapist. I never thought that would happen. I hate having to talk about myself, about my life. If possible I think I'm even more depressed now than I was before.  She said that I'm gonna need intense long-term therapy. She thinks that I probaly have PTSD on top of my depression. She did say that she thinks its great that I have a blog....that I should write about my feelings as much as possible. I'm just wondering when these new meds will start working. I still have negative feelings throughout most of the day. I still wish I had died when I took those pills. I find myself daydreaming about jumping off a bridge or swimming in the ocean so far nobody can reach me.  If just I had more courage I wouldn't have told Bryan that I took any pills. If I had started the seizures at home he never would've been able to get me to the hospital on time. Instead, I'm still here. I lost my job so I gotta find another one. O yay! What fun!!

So, here we go again. Its been over a year since that life changing event occurred. I thought I was all better. The pills that the Dr prescribed did what they were supposed to do. Yay! I was cured! Or so  I thought....

I had started a new job which is much farther from the dr's office. I was afraid to ask for time off to go see the dr. I didnt want to start off on the wrong foot, u know. I remembered being told once that some people are able to stop taking their antidepressants after just a few months. So, I cut my dose in half. About a month later I completely stopped taking my Wellbutrin. I still felt fine so I thought I did the right thing. Wrong!! 2 months later I had another breakdown. It happened so suddenly. I'm still shocked. My husband and I had a couple of disagreements. That by itself should have warned me because we never fight. Anyhow. After the 3rd one I decided that my husband didnt love me anymore. After dinner that night I took the rest of my Wellbutrin- about 25 pills.

I wrote him a good-bye note and went to go to sleep next to him. He must've thought that I was acting strange because he asked me if I took any pills. I've never been able to lie so I told him yes. He told me to get dressed and we drove to the hospital. A different one this time. I felt fine. I thought it was so silly to be going to the hospital. I remember that I found everything to be funny. They let us right in. We sat with the nurse who asked us all the preliminary questions and thats where my memories end. I woke up 2 days later in the ICU.

When I first woke up I could barely talk. I could think like normal of all the things I wanted to say but my words all came out in slow motion. Luckily, that only lasted a day or two. My speaking is back to normal now. Another problem was that I could not walk. I could not even get out of bed. That took a little over a week but I was able to use my legs again. Ofcourse, my legs still hurt a lot and I'm still kinda wobbly. But I'm a lot better than I was. A third problem was that I developed pneumonia .  That was pretty bad. The cough is mostly gone now.

I was in the hospital for 8 days. After that I was sent to a psych facility. I was there for 2 days. I got home yesterday. I'm not quite sure how I feel yet. My legs are killing me. That is starting to worry me. Part of me wants to tell my hubby to hide all the pills because I cant promise that I wont ever do this again. Another part wants to reassure him that everythings better now. But is it???

    I decided that my blog should include all the nitty gritty stuff that makes me who I am. So, just a warning : this post may have some material that is not suitable for all ears. Anyhow. I was married on April 2, 2005. Before marriage I was a virgin because I was raised in a very religious household. I was fine with that. I was very proud of the fact that I was still so 'pure' and 'innocent' in this day and age. It was'nt until after I was married and introduced to a world including sex that I realized that I was a very troubled young woman.
     I loved my husband very much. I just never seemed to be able to get into enjoying sex. It always seemed like a chore I had to do to please my husband. I didnt really like kissing either. What was wrong with me???
    Late in 2006 I finally admitted to myself something which I'd kept locked in my mind for years and years. It took a long time but I finally had to admit that the events that occurred when I was a little girl may have had more of an impact than I'd 1st thought. Even now I hate even saying it. It still seems unreal. But I have memories which refuse to go away. I keep telling myself that it wasnt a big deal. So many people have been through so much worse and yet they cope with it. Omg! Just say it! Okay....when I was 9 years old I was molested my my father.
    There. I said it. It happened. I still remember when my dad used to come into my room at night and lie down with me. He would snuggle very close to me and put his arms around me.  That  by itself was strange because my family was never the lovey dovey hugging type of family. Ofcourse, I also remember how his hands would creep under my shirt. His hands seemed to be everywhere.  I remember trying to pull down my shirt. I felt so dirty....so ugly. But I never said no...I never said stop....I never said a word.I would lie awake just waiting for him to leave.  It seemed like forever before he did. One night I locked the door so he could'nt come in. My parents were banging on the door the next morning to wake me and my sister for church. When we finally heard and opened the door I could tell from the look on his face that he knew why that door was locked. He dismissed everyone from the room and sat down to have a talk with me. It seemed like such a long talk. I remember feeling embarrassed. He had his excuses. He blamed his time in prison. He said he couldnt help looking at me. I didnt care about his excuses.  All that mattered was that his nightly trips to my bed at night stopped. But our relationship  was never right.
    After I finally admitted the molestation I went into a deep depression. I was sad and angry a lot. I loved my husband so much. I hated myself for not being a better wife to him. Pretty soon I started telling myself that he would be better off without me. In May of 07 I tried to commit suicide. I took almost 30 prescription migraine pills. I must not of been thinking right because I thought I would still be able to go work before I died. I was in a car accident on the way to work. I was in a comotose state for a whole day. The last thing I remember is leaving the apt in the morning and waking up in the ICU that night. I was put on suicide watch. I was never left alone. There was always someone in the room with me...even if I went to the bathroom.Every few hour a nurse took my blood. By the time I left the hospital my arms were black and blue.
    After leaving the hospital I was sent to a phyc unit a few blocks away. I had to share a room with an old lady who snored. Most of the people there were drug addicts. We had alot of group therapy sessions. We had to play stupid games, etc, etc, etc. I wasnt allowed visitors except for 30 minutes once a day. Therapists, social workers, and doctors were always asking nosy questions. I was only there for 2 1/2 days but it felt like forever. When I left I cant even descibe to you the feeling of finally being free.
    After that ordeal I scheduled a visit to a counselor just like I was reccommended. I was also put on anti-depressants. But it took awhile to fing one that actually worked. Stay tuned for more.......