In the past 17 months I've had 4 surgeries. Every time, I pray that I will not wake up. I look for little things that I can do to "increase the risk" of surgery. I have hit lows that should probably have been talked about, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to admit it aloud. I didn't want someone to stop me if I made a good suicide plan.
After the 3rd surgery, I tried to give myself lithium toxicity and overdosed for several days. I don't know what I expected or wanted. I just knew that it was going to hurt me and I wanted to hurt.
When I changed antidepressants between the first two surgeries,and was told never to mix the several different medications, I held on to every single pill bottle in case I "needed" to take them later.
The latest surgery was unnecessary; I had a tubal ligation. I didn't need it; I have an IUD that works fine. I was having nightmares that I ended up pregnant and dealt with severe post-partum depression, mostly due to the fact that I cannot breast feed. Breastfeeding protected me from the severity of postpartum. Knowing I was taking care of someone else helped me get through my own hard times.
*side note, that is a trend in my life. If I feel useful to a friend, I tend to forget my own depression. So I actually appreciate the friends that ask for advice or a listening ear*
Anyway, I chose to have the surgery in part to stop the nightmares, and in larger part because I wanted the pain pills! I wanted to finally take the ones I have left, the new ones, and some extra lithium, along with the seratonin syndrome I was going to cause.... I would be done.
The word "suicide" never crossed my mind. I never think of it as suicide. Just ending the awful, terrifying thoughts. Letting the darkness consume me and everything else end. I wanted to stop fighting so hard to live.
For several days, I was dissociating for several hours. I didn't fully realize that's what I was doing, and when I did, I downplayed it. I didn't think I had anything serious enough to dissociate from. I told my therapist I was dissociating and severely depressed and suicidal. He made me promise to stay alive until my next appointment and I promised. But didn't feel it an honest promise...
When I was completely "absent" for an entire day, I knew I needed to tell my psychiatrist. I called and asked how soon I could get in. They are booked solid for another 3 months. So, I sent a private message to my psychiatrist telling her I felt like I might need to be admitted. I was so scared sending that message.
Within 5 minutes, I got a text from the clinic asking if I could be there in 3 hours. My psychiatrist doubled my medication doses and ordered a ketamine compound so I can start Ketamine Assisted Psychotherapy.
This scares me. The treatment plan, the expected outcomes, the expected length of treatment time, all seems so similar to one of the most traumatic things in my life, ECT.
So, I am currently terrified this will be just another thing that fails to help me.
Medication, therapy, psychiatry, more medications, more types of medication, hospital stay, ECT, TMS, and KAP. Not to mention the countless medication changes over the past 25 years. What if it makes everything worse? Why should I put my husband and family through this crap again?
Tuesday (in 3 days) I see my psychiatrist. We will hopefully make a plan to start KAP and I hope it works. I hope it doesn't ruin everything.
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