So. I had a pretty scary weekend. I tripped over myself, stumbled past all of my red flags, and fell into a disgustingly horrible, deep hole. And I feel like it's a dirty secret even though I told my parents what happened so I need to write about it. Ever since getting out from my last hospital visit, I've been marching myself along, making myself do everything I'm supposed to do, and then I felt better. And then I got lazy and thought I could stop doing everything. And then I spiraled downwards and in two weeks hit my lowest point ever. I thought Saturday was horrible. I did some really dangerous things that definitely threatened my safety. And then Sunday came and I realized that Saturday was not actually so horrible. I have never felt so alone or so suicidal in my life. I hope I never feel that suicidal again. I just sat there and looked at all of my options very seriously. I looked at death, the hospital, or life. I decided that the hospital was out. I've been there - I know what happens there and I know what doesn't happen there. It's probably what most other people would have chosen for me but the thought of going just sent me farther down into despair. So then all I had left was life or death. I stared at death and really thought about what it meant. I thought about all of the people I know. And I just couldn't do that to them. And then I thought about myself and I realized I couldn't do it to myself either. Not after everything I've been through already. I'm not wasting all of that effort just to give up in the middle because I'm overwhelmed. So then I had to look at life because that was the only option left. And that meant that even though I didn't feel like it, I had to get up and start doing all of the things that are good for me again. I got up and threw out everything that might tempt me to do anything dangerous again. And then I called my parents and told them what happened and had them pick me up and I stayed with them. I spent the whole day doing a mixture of sobbing, distracting, and positive self-talking. I told my parents it was the worst day of my life, which I don't think they believed, but I honestly think it was. I felt so defeated by life and yet I had already made my decision and it was literally 'do or die' so I had to 'do' and have faith that I could climb out of the hole. And even though it's exhausting, I'm still climbing because I don't have any other options anymore.
Lots of drawings came out of this experience. I just sat all evening on Saturday drawing and doing stupid things and you can kind of see the progression of my emotions getting darker and more overwhelming with each picture.
Here are the first two:
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| January 21, 2012 |
Compartmentalize
I was trying to organize everything that was going on in my head so that it didn't feel so overwhelming. I tried to make it so that the more overwhelming something was, the bigger the box it had. At the top are the general symptoms of PTSD and depression mixing together. On the left are the little explosions of intrusive memories that I keep getting. The colors represent the two main perpetrators. On the right is the painful aloneness I was feeling mainly because I don't have my old therapist anymore.
Missing
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| January 21, 2012 |
This represents how I feel like there's a hole in my stomach where I used to have someone that knows almost everything about me. It's the loss that I feel when I wish that I could talk to my old therapist.
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