Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
The last month or so has seen me have the worst relapse I've had since I was a teenager (and some of those years were bad!). I hesitated to write this post because I am so ashamed and embarrassed at what has happened the past few weeks, I wasn't sure sharing it was the best idea. However, I think it's important to share my experiences to show other people who are going through similar things that they need to speak out to get the best help possible.
Two weeks ago now following a month of major depression, I had a massive psychotic break. I was drinking at home with Will and I decided after two bottles of wine that I needed more, so I started having tequila shots. I knew I'd had enough and should stop, but I was on such a high I felt like I needed to continue it. Will tried to stop me and I got angry. My daughter Ivy overheard and came into our bedroom. By all accounts, I put her back to bed before I bolted out the door on a -3 degree night in nothing but my negligee.
I remember entering the lake a few blocks down from our house with the intentions of drowning myself and then realising it was too shallow for me to achieve that. I sprinted around 3km out of our estate and down the street until the police caught up with me on the corner. Apparently, someone had called them after seeing me run past their house.
The police got me into the back of the car and all was well until I started to panic. I felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage with two police one side of me, another the other side, and one in the driver's seat. Something inside of me told me I needed to get out and keep running, so I tried to do just that. As you can imagine it didn't go down too well and after a long struggle, they were forced to cuff me (there's one for the bucket list!). From what I was told the next day it took three officers to hold me down, as I had that much adrenaline coursing through my system.
An ambulance arrived on scene and I was strapped to the gurney. I continued to panic and in the end, they sedated me. It wasn't until the next day that I woke very battered and bruised both mentally and physically that flashes of memory came to my mind. I'd convinced myself that Will had left me and I was seriously concerned I'd hurt someone in my panicked state. I felt alone and defeated and honestly wished I were dead.
As it turned out Will hadn't left me and I hadn't injured anyone during my escapade. Never the less I didn't feel any better. I was so ashamed and still am. Coming from a police family I have a lot of respect for the police, as well as ambulance officers. I think they do an amazing job and deal with a lot of difficult situations that most people couldn't even dream of facing.
A week later and I was at one of my best friend's parties. I decided to have a few drinks. Unfortunately a few turned into many (again) and I had another episode. Thankfully this time I didn't manage to bolt out of the front door, something I desperately wanted to do. However, I did talk about a lot of past traumas, some of which Will had never heard me discuss before. This made me realise how much these things are still affecting my mental health and how much I need to address them.
A few days later I decided the only thing to do was to call the mental health triage line and ask for help. They suggested I go to the hospital, and that is where I currently sit writing this now. I've decided alcohol is not my friend at the moment and that until I'm well I won't be drinking. I've also decided I need to deal with the past traumas that keep coming back to haunt me in my darkest moments. I can't let them fester in the deepest corners of my mind anymore. They need to come to light, no matter how painful that may be.
Two weeks ago now following a month of major depression, I had a massive psychotic break. I was drinking at home with Will and I decided after two bottles of wine that I needed more, so I started having tequila shots. I knew I'd had enough and should stop, but I was on such a high I felt like I needed to continue it. Will tried to stop me and I got angry. My daughter Ivy overheard and came into our bedroom. By all accounts, I put her back to bed before I bolted out the door on a -3 degree night in nothing but my negligee.
I remember entering the lake a few blocks down from our house with the intentions of drowning myself and then realising it was too shallow for me to achieve that. I sprinted around 3km out of our estate and down the street until the police caught up with me on the corner. Apparently, someone had called them after seeing me run past their house.
The police got me into the back of the car and all was well until I started to panic. I felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage with two police one side of me, another the other side, and one in the driver's seat. Something inside of me told me I needed to get out and keep running, so I tried to do just that. As you can imagine it didn't go down too well and after a long struggle, they were forced to cuff me (there's one for the bucket list!). From what I was told the next day it took three officers to hold me down, as I had that much adrenaline coursing through my system.
An ambulance arrived on scene and I was strapped to the gurney. I continued to panic and in the end, they sedated me. It wasn't until the next day that I woke very battered and bruised both mentally and physically that flashes of memory came to my mind. I'd convinced myself that Will had left me and I was seriously concerned I'd hurt someone in my panicked state. I felt alone and defeated and honestly wished I were dead.
As it turned out Will hadn't left me and I hadn't injured anyone during my escapade. Never the less I didn't feel any better. I was so ashamed and still am. Coming from a police family I have a lot of respect for the police, as well as ambulance officers. I think they do an amazing job and deal with a lot of difficult situations that most people couldn't even dream of facing.
A week later and I was at one of my best friend's parties. I decided to have a few drinks. Unfortunately a few turned into many (again) and I had another episode. Thankfully this time I didn't manage to bolt out of the front door, something I desperately wanted to do. However, I did talk about a lot of past traumas, some of which Will had never heard me discuss before. This made me realise how much these things are still affecting my mental health and how much I need to address them.
A few days later I decided the only thing to do was to call the mental health triage line and ask for help. They suggested I go to the hospital, and that is where I currently sit writing this now. I've decided alcohol is not my friend at the moment and that until I'm well I won't be drinking. I've also decided I need to deal with the past traumas that keep coming back to haunt me in my darkest moments. I can't let them fester in the deepest corners of my mind anymore. They need to come to light, no matter how painful that may be.
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Music gets me through my hospital stays |
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