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I just don’t understand why I can’t keep myself out of the pit of despair lately. I have been trying, really trying and here I am again. I actually don’t even want to post about it here because I feel ashamed.

It feels likes I’m caught in the grips of something that is smarter than I am. The more I fight the harder it tries to pull me down. It’s a struggle that happens each day.

I am doing some positive things. I’m trying to start equine psychotherapy. I called this morning to schedule my intake appointment.

I’m struggling a lot with rejection. The inpatient facility that rejected me has caused a cascade of overwhelming feelings about rejection. I feel like I should be rejected by everyone. I feel like I should reject myself. I realized I have parts that have been rejected, actually everyone believes they are dead. I don’t feel sorry for them.

I’m in trouble again and I’m not sure what to do.

Things are looking up



Things are much better in my world. Yesterday was my birthday and it was a good day. I kept wanting to forget that it was my birthday but a lot of people in my life made that impossible. I decided to give in and celebrate me and it was great.

The darkness has lifted and I’m viewing the world in a better way.

I contacted an organization that does equine psychotherapy and it sounds great. They are local. I was looking for some longer term inpatient facilities with equine therapy. If I can stay home and do the same thing, that’s so much better. There are two different options with the equine psychotherapy so I have to discuss those with my therapist. I see her on Sunday so I will get to call them on Monday and schedule my intake.

I have committed to a number of changes in order to improve my daily functioning and hopefully never have another suicide attempt.

I want to thank everyone for their support during this rough spot. I appreciate each one of my readers!

Reaching out for help



I am struggling after the suicide attempt. I thought it might be best to go inpatient for 30 days. I began my search for a facility that understands DID, is for 30 days and is within my budget. After doing lots of research online I found a few and made inquiry. One hasn’t called back after they said they would call back in an hour to an hour and a half, that promise was made 24 hours ago. The second claims to treat dissociative disorders including DID. They called back just a bit ago denying me because of my DID. They asked if I switch and I said yes, case closed, no admittance. Umm, if you aren’t switching you technically don’t meet the criteria to be diagnosed with DID. What the hell? The third is also grimacing at my DID diagnosis even though they claim to treat trauma and PTSD. They won’t talk to me further until the speak to my therapist to verify I’m not psychotic. Umm, you are talking to me on the phone, do I seem psychotic to you?

So there you have it. Reach out for help only to get your hand slapped. You my dear are too sick/broken for us, but good luck. I give up on finding inpatient services. Talk about getting kicked when you are down. Nothing like a good boost for my self esteem.

The 27th day of my new life


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27 days since the suicide attempt. I’m not really sure why I counting. It seems important somehow. Maybe because everyday is a struggle and counting them seems rewarding. There is also the dark side still, 27 days I shouldn’t have.

Yesterday was one of the worst days since that evening of swallowing the pills. I finally talked to my husband and he helped some. I got very angry with him but in the end it helped. We went to dinner together and I tried to focus only on good things. I chatted on and on about a healing retreat I attended a week ago and he listened. I felt better for some time. The internal darkness did return later but it was close enough to bedtime so I went to bed.

I had all of my meds out yesterday. My psychiatrist gave me a 30 day supply of one of my meds. I understand why, you need a paper script for it so it would take some work for her to write those every week. I was still surprised. We have a lock box for our meds. I kept looking at all the bottles calculating which would be best. I finally asked my husband to lock all of them up and he did. So even though I have the ideology, well more than that, a plan, I asked my husband to foil my plan. I consider this a win. I’m still here.

26 days since I tried to end my life


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26 days. Some mornings I didn’t wake but on all the ones I have my first thought is I’m not supposed to be here. I am a suicide attempt survivor. My therapist counts this as the third but to me it’s the first. If I go by my therapists count the first attempt was done by E (a part) when she cut our femoral artery. The second false attempt occurred when I drank wine and E took Xanax, both of which are harmful when taking a MAOI. The second wasn’t an attempt to end life, it was just a mistake. Then there is number three. Failed number three. Contemplated, planned and failed. There is nothing quite like being a failure at murdering yourself.

I decide to google suicide attempt survivor thinking I will find some resources to help me through this tough spot. I find nothing. It appears only a handful of people speak out about life after a suicide attempt. No words of wisdom that bring me to some place of acceptance and yes, I want to live. No, I’m still stuck in the circling whirlpool of my own emotions that threaten to pull me to the bottom.

I’m back to watching the clock, just 10 more minutes. Life 10 minutes at a time. I’m trying really trying. I’ve done a lot of things today to try to lift myself a bit higher and nothing is working. So here I am trying writing to see if this works. Thank goodness no one in my face to face life ever reads this blog.

I’m so tired I hardly have the energy to do much else. I’m sleeping so it isn’t a lack of sleep. Is it just depression, the heart damage that occurred from the overdose or is it just time to lay down and die from weariness?

26 days, it seems impossible. My birthday is in 3 days. I find that interesting in so many ways.

I’m trying….


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Ever since the suicide attempt I have been trying to do the things that I know are good for me and my mental health. I got out of the hospital on Saturday, July 26th. I left for a spiritual retreat on Thursday, July 31st. I got home from the retreat on Sunday, August 3rd. I see my therapist 3 times a week, I’m in a new support group, I’m in touch with friends and still there is this emptiness, this sadness. I feel afraid to talk about how I really fear because I don’t want anyone to worry about me. I don’t want to be smothered because everyone fears I will attempt suicide again. I understand their fears, I know I almost died. I caused a lot of distress. How do I reconcile my own feelings and yet be considerate of those I’ve hurt? I was telling my therapist about my visit with my psychiatrist and she knew I didn’t tell my psychiatrist about my feelings, that I held back. My therapist asked me to think about the ways I hold back with her. At first I thought I didn’t hold back but now I see I do. I believe there are “rules” of behavior after a suicide attempt and I’m trying to abide by those “rules”. I’m trying to be who everyone wants me to be so that they are okay. In doing so I am denying my own reality. I tell myself I should be happy, I should, I should, I should. When do I let others see who I really am?

Today, this is who I am. I’m fresh out of a suicide attempt and I’m hurting and confused. Do I want to live or don’t I? I’m angry I’m alive and relieved at the same time. Why do hospitals try so hard to save people that tried to kill themselves? How can all the medical professionals that cared for me see me as someone worth saving? Don’t they know? I was completely out for 2-3 days and couldn’t speak for myself and yet decisions were made for me. I was saved with the uncertainty how my mind and body would function. Why? But I did this. I took the meds which put me into the situation of being out of control. I am responsible for putting all the medical professionals in the position of making these decisions for me. So much to think and work through and I’ve only just begun.

Today I feel the darkness beginning to creep in. What will I do about it? Will I reach out or will I be silent? Will I tell my therapist tomorrow or will I play the game? Today I have choices and I’m in charge of my life. Choices…..

A Lesson Learned


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***Trigger Warning*** If you are not in a good place emotionally please don’t read this post.

On Tuesday, July 15, I took an overdose of a MAOI. I was very serious about ending my life. I had reached the very bottom.

I spent 6 days in the medical hospital and 5 days in the psychiatric hospital. I am still working on recovering physically.

I spent 45 minutes on the phone with my therapist and she convinced me to allow my sister to take me to the ER. Today I’m glad I made that decision. I have the most guilt over those 45 minutes. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be in her shoes. I know she is going through a wide range of emotions and I don’t know how she is managing to sit across from me. Yesterday is the first time I have seen her since my release from the hospital. I see her again today. This is what I am struggling with the most. Yes, I also hurt my family and I regret that and I feel shame. With my therapist it’s different for some reason. I can’t even put it into words. I need to think about this some more…..I will return later.

So very tired


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I’m travelling down lower and lower. At this point I really don’t care if I live or die. I keep seeing myself dead in lots of different ways and I can’t help but wonder which of them is true. In one way or another I could make any of them happen.

Every little thing gets under my skin now. My daughter asked her dad to pick her up from school and I just called to make sure he was, he isn’t. There goes my short break for the day. It angers me and gives me one more thing to take out on myself.

I just don’t think I was ever meant to survive. I’ve been living on borrowed time for too long and that’s why life is so difficult.

I simply can’t do everything that is required of me to live any sort of normal life. I’m not strong enough.

I said in therapy today I would keep trying just one more thing. I called and bumped my appointment with my psychiatrist to next week. Seems like a ridiculous thing at this point.

I’m tired, really tired.

Can’t seem to help myself



I hate when I get into this place where nothing I do seems to help.

I was having a really tough day all by myself and my sister calls. She is upset and having a difficult time and I didn’t know what to say to do. I wasn’t supportive and I made her cry more. Support person #1 not available for me.

I call my husband, no answer. I send a string of texts, no reply. Support person #2 not available for me.

I was going to therapy today but she had to cancel. Support person #3 not available for me.

That’s all the support people I have that know the truth about me.

Alone, just me and the not so friendly neighborhood of the head.

Since none of the healthy alternatives have worked my mind has drifted off to the not so healthy alternatives of relief. I wish I hadn’t made my sister cry. Now if I ended all of this she would think it was her fault even though it isn’t. What a thing to keep you from killing yourself.

I was going to work on processing some of the garbage in my head Thursday night but now I don’t know if I should be alone all night or not. I waited too late to take care of me. Same pattern over and over.

I have to get a grip. Not going to another mental hospital again!

Alice is a bad girl!

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