everyone has certain dates that when it rolls around every year it causes their brain to jump all over the place .. anniversaries of happy, sad, or neutral events .. birthdays .. i don’t think anyone can admit to NOT having feels about a specific day of the year.
here’s my story:
in 2015 my mental health was a flaming pile of garbage. i was an active alcoholic with a serious pill addiction & an eating disorder. i was so broken & lost with no sense of self .. going from one extremely shitty monogamous relationship to another .. and they seemed to get worse with each guy i chose. all (i thought) i wanted was a boy to love me & live with me & once i got that everything would be fine. over Thanksgiving i cheated on the current boyfriend with the to-be next boyfriend .. who i then invited to quickly move in with me. the next few months were some of the worse of my life. i basically invited a very mentally unwell person into my home & it very quickly went south. we fed into each other’s mental instabilities & regularly threatened/went through with self-harm when the other wasn’t giving us what we needed. i have a distinct memory of banging my head against the toilet seat while trying to make myself sick so that i would maybe get a concussion or something & so then maybe he’d care enough about me & actually hear what i was trying to say .. needless-to-say, that didn’t last long – thank the gods/goddesses. by early 2016 i was single for the first time in a very long time & i went on tinder to try to escape my lonesomeness & fear .. which is where i quickly met my next relationship. even though i was adamant about not wanting another exclusive relationship .. somehow i found myself in an emotionally & verbally manipulative monogamous relationship with an individual who was an even worse-off alcoholic/addict than i was. i think we found each other at pretty bad times in our lives and somewhat clung to each other and tried desperately to fill the personal voids we felt. i WAY too quickly moved into his apartment – the reason i gave at the time was because i felt unsafe living alone but i’m not sure how true i was really being with myself. i think i just really really wanted to feel like i belonged somewhere with someone .. wanted to believe that i wasn’t going to end up alone in life. wanted to feel like someone wanted me & like i could be loved even though i didn’t love myself.
so during this whirlwind of a relationship we obviously drank a lot of alcohol together. we’d be drunk & he would seemingly be just encouraging me to find myself but in the end all i felt was worse about myself. he would get on my case about me essentially having no personality, no interests, & nothing to bring to the table. he would compare me to his ex-girlfriend who in my eyes was his “the one who got away” & he would talk about how much passion she had & how she would challenge him & they’d have all sorts of intellectual conversations & meaningful times spent together .. he essentially made me feel like he was only with me because his ex no longer wanted him. & that he was trying to make me into being more like her. but .. he was kinda right – i didn’t have a really strong sense of self-identity (probably will get more into my identity crisis another time) & felt very, very lost in the world. at this time in my life i didn’t know if happiness/contentment was really in the cards for me. i was sick & hurting & knew i needed help. i spoke to my boyfriend about wanting to go to rehab for the pills & the eating disorder .. i had felt that my life had pretty much gotten unmanageable. i was barely holding down my job, the relationship was constantly on the rocks, & my mental health/addiction was pretty much controlling every single moment of my day.
in the morning of mother’s day 2016, i woke up & called my mother & grandmother to wish them a happy day. it was nice weather out. my boyfriend & i got some booze & blunts together & headed to his mother’s house for a cook out. (a note: my memory 2015-2016 is really blurry so a lot of these details are super fuzzy/guessed/told to me after the fact.) we started drinking early meaning i blacked out early. i drank at least an entire growler of cider to myself as well as i’m sure many other drinks that i will never remember. at some point in the evening, probably after i embarrassed us both in front of his family, my boyfriend, equally as inebriated as i was but with more body fat, drove me & my car back to his apartment. we fought the whole way. i do remember having to pull over in a parking lot at some point for some reason. the drive wasn’t far so im sure i was acting like a crazy drunk banshee and he had to pull over to compose us somehow .. we get back to his apartment (which is on top of his family’s business) and we continue to drink & fight & smoke & fight & drink some more.
around 2 or 3 AM after traumatizing our pets with our anger, & me trying to take my cat & leave but unable to find my car keys .. i locked myself in the bathroom for a while. & then i swallowed a handful of my pills. i went out of the bathroom & sat on the couch next to him & continued drinking my beer. he knew i did something. i knew i did something. he eventually got me to tell him what i did. & he got really mad. i know i told him to just leave me alone & let me go to sleep. he wouldn’t do that & he wouldn’t call an ambulance because he didn’t want to attract attention to the business so he put me in his work van & drove me to the ER. after falling out of his van, i stubbornly made it inside the hospital. i remember being admitted for an overdose, emailing my boss to tell him i wouldn’t be at work (not suspicious at all getting an email at 3/4AM saying “sorry boss won’t be in today”), calling my best friend to tell her i was safe & at the hospital, & then trying to crack jokes with the nurses/doctors but i was probably just a huge pain in the ass.
my blood alcohol level was like a .2 or something disgusting & when mixed with my 85 pound body & the benzodiazepine overdose .. i don’t know how close i was to dying but it felt close. when i got to the hospital too much time had passed to pump my stomach so i’m pretty sure they had me take some kind of charcoal & they hooked me up to IVs in both wrists & ankles to try to flush out my system. i woke up alone & didn’t know where i was or what time it was or anything. i angrily banged my arms on the bed & yelled out to the nurses for help. eventually someone brought a phone to me & said it was my sister on the other line. which was super confusing because like .. how did she find me when i didn’t even know where i was? turns out my best friend who i called in the night found my boyfriend on facebook and found out where i was and then told my sister (this best friend is basically my other sister & she has saved my ass on so many occasions). then my sister told my mom & they both came to the hospital by the afternoon of the 9th. i thought they were there to pick me up & take me home. then a hospital case worker explained that because i overdosed i was a liability to the hospital & i had to go to another treatment facility before going home. they said i either had to voluntarily go or else they would have to involuntarily commit me. the voluntary option is better for everyone, so that’s what it went with.
i think this is a good place to pause & come back. i’ll pick it up with my transfer from the hospital to the psychiatric hospital.
mental health is way too important to ignore & sweep under the rug. if we aren’t taking care of our minds & attempting to address issues as they arise .. they will likely snowball. so reach out to someone. talk about what’s going on. find community who feels a similar way. it’s scary & daunting but it’s less scary when you don’t try to do it alone & in the dark.
oh & i get my second vaccine tomorrow so the featured pic on this post is from my first shot!