Tag: suicide survivor

I Just Want To Live

A Girl In A Complex World

Well, the comfort I was receiving from the hot water bottle was wonderful. Except, it was short-lived. Through no fault of its own though! That hot water bottle was / STILL IS an incredible tool in my Skills Box.

A lot has happened lately. Maybe a slight percentage has been a genuine response to trauma and/or illness, and not something I had complete control over …. but when you choose to do something, YOU are the reason it happens. So whatever happens is your fault, isn’t it?

I’ve put my body through absolute torture these past 2 weeks and its going to take a while to settle from it all. Unless you deal with it on your own personal level, absolutely no one will ever comprehend what its like to live with a brain that wants me dead.

I can’t help but feel a little jealous … I’m actually more than a little jealous, but I digress … of the ppl I hear and read about who also deal with depression, PTSD, eating disorders, BPD, dissociation, and so on who have found ways to still live productive lives and can maintain a level of stability that is acceptable in other ppl’s eyes. I’ve been dealing with this stuff for several decades … and I have yet to discover what ‘stable’ looks and feels like.

I don’t get angry very often but right now I feel absolutely PISSED – at everyone and everything. All I want is to be able to eat, drink, sleep, and socialize with other ppl the way other stable, functional human beings do every single day. It really isn’t that much to ask, is it?

I want to live … and experience things outside of survival. That’s all I want. I’ve totally got the survival part figured out. Now, I just want to live.

Do You Need A Hug?

A Girl In A Complex World

Ernest Hemingway once said,
“In our darkest moments, we don’t need advice.”

And I agree. What we truly need is connection: a quiet presence, a gentle hug, or the smallest gesture that reminds us we’re not alone. Those simple acts of kindness may very well become the anchors that keep us grounded when life feels overwhelming.

Pain is deeply personal.  Each struggle is uniquely ours to face. But even if your presence is silent, it tells me I don’t have to face this stuff alone. It’s a quiet reminder that, no matter how broken I feel, I am still worthy of human connection.

Sometimes, words aren’t necessary. Silent support speaks louder than anything else does. Love and kindness, in its purest form, has the power to help us reclaim and restore ourselves, even when we have lost sight of who we are.

I just wanted to remind you of the importance of simply being there for each other because life is hard and being alone sucks.

There is a suicide epidemic in our country.

So reach out and hug someone, if you can.  Without even realizing it, you could be saving a life. Maybe even be your own.

How I Ended Up In The Psyc Ward

A Girl In A Complex World

It all started when I went for my regular Ketamine infusion, which is part of my treatment for Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

Felicia, the head nurse, asked if I was doing ok. She said I wasn’t looking like myself and that I was pale. I said I was good and that was all that was said. 



I remember lying back on the stretcher while they prepped me, putting heart monitoring stickers on my chest, attaching a BP cuff to my arm, oxygen in my nose … I was shivering and could feel tears running down from the corners of my eyes but i had no emotions. It was strange because that doesn’t usually happen. They took my hand to start an IV and I heard a faint voice in my head whispering – don’t touch me.

I remember turning my head to the side and just letting myself drift away. Don’t have any more memories about the treatment than that.

Once the infusion was done they wanted to talk to David. Felicia asked him how I’ve been doing lately. David later told me that he told her I’ve been purging a lot, that I’ve been quite depressed and that he’s been worried. Apparently she told him that I’m not looking well. That I was pale, my eyes were dark, and my lips were almost grey.

I was awake, my eyes were open, but I was non-responsive. My neck and head were spasming and I was staring off with no reaction when someone spoke or touched me. So they decided to keep me an extra hour to give me more fluids and more time to let the meds wear off. David asked if they felt I had taken anything and she said no because my vitals were all good. But they did bloodwork just to be sure. 

An hour later Felicia called David back in and told him that he needs to take me to the ER. Apparently I had been mumbling some things that no one could really pick out but Felicia had heard me say something about this being the end and it was almost time to die …. I don’t remember any of that. I’m just telling what I was told. 

So they put me in a wheelchair and David registered me in the ER, where I sat/slumped for 9 hours. David said I kept falling to the side as if I couldn’t hold myself up. He had to ask for a pillow and blanket to put around me to secure me a bit. He said I was in a completely different world.

Then they called us in to a small room that had nothing but 2 chairs bolted to the floor. And that’s where I spent the next 26 hours. It was nothing short of brutal.

Tears are burning my eyes now as I write that. I think it’s cruel how this was handled. They took me from the OR after having a procedure done and forced me to sit up on hard seats for a total of 36 hours. I was hallucinating. I was in terrible pain and developed a migraine. Had multiple bouts of vomiting. And I started experiencing opiate withdrawal because after I took my meds Thursday morning, I wasn’t given anything until Friday night. By that time I had missed 6 doses of morphine. It was torture.

David had to leave at one point. We had taken our dogs with us that morning. So David spent the entire day going from me in the hospital to the dogs in the car. He’d switch every hour. Take them for a walk, a drink, get them a snack then settle them in the car again before coming back in with me. But they couldn’t do that all night. So around 10pm he spoke to the staff. They assured him that I would be in safe hands and would be looked after so he left to go home with the dogs. Just before he left, he brought me in Zoey’s blanket from the car because he’d been asking for a blanket for me for 2 hrs with no luck. So I just kinda dozed off, sitting up in the chair, with Zoey’s blanket over me.

At one point I started to be more alert and I was really confused. I needed to use the bathroom but there wasn’t one so I left the room and just wandered around a bit. I went to the nurse’s station and asked if there was a bathroom and he said down the hall on the right. I roamed the hospital for a while. Took the elevator a few times, and eventually made my way back to that room. I called David, upset, wanting to know what was going on. When he realized that I was still there in that room – alone, he drove back to Grand Falls again at 4am. In the meantime, while hyperventilating and being trapped in that space with the chairs bolted to the floor, I clawed/scratched/cut my neck. 

David came, and he channeled his anger into fighting for me. He took me outside for some air then went and found a vending machine and got me a sandwich and water. I hadn’t had anything since 7am the previous day. Thankfully there was one nurse there on Friday that had a bit of respect and showed some compassion. She even gave me a little bit of her on personal toothpaste so I could brush my teeth. No one gave me a breakfast tray but she made sure there was one for me by lunch time. And she also contacted the necessary ppl to get my meds ordered. 

Then my psychiatrist came. It was still another long painful day sitting in that chair but by Friday evening I was admitted to the psyc unit.



And I’m still here. I am much more stable than I was over 2 weeks ago but still have a ways to go. Have no idea what is going to come out of this.

Still Here

A Girl In A Complex World

A lot of us have been close to the point of not being here today. And if you’re reading this right now, I just want to say that you have more strength than you realize. Not everyone who woke up yesterday were here to wake up today. Surviving myself has been one of the biggest battles I’ve ever faced.

The fact that you are st;ll here is an incredible accomplishment and I want to be the one to tell you that I am so freakin proud of you!

On That Day

A Girl In A Complex World
Ashley (left) and Me (right)

I wondered why the clocks didn’t stop
On that day.
My world stopped spinning
When I walked into the bathroom and found you submerged in a bathtub full of bloody water.
I wondered how the rest of the world could keep going
Without you here.
You took a piece of me with you
On that day.
But I forgive you.
I’d forgive you a million times over if it would bring you back to me.

Ashley

Life Has Been Unraveling

A Girl In A Complex World

My mental health has been on a steady decline for a couple of months now. There’s been a lot that’s happened, in succession, and the stress of it all has been accumulating. Trying to manage both physical and mental illnesses why all this life stuff has been coming at me was too much and I crashed. As a result, every area of my life is now suffering.

A little over 2 weeks ago something inside of me just cracked and I attempted to end my life. In a moment of desperation, needing the mental anguish to just stop, I chose what I thought would be the solution.

After spending the past 2 weeks in the hospital, in the Intensive Care Unit, here I am sitting in the car with my husband, as we travel to his parents’ place for a 60th birthday celebration (tomorrow). I was discharged yesterday, after being cleared as well enough to leave. I feel a million miles away right now. Certainly not in the frame of mind for a party. I really don’t want to be around people.

Can I just say one more thing?

Our health care system here in Newfoundland, Canada is … I’m biting my tongue here because every word coming to mind could get me banned from WordPress … so I’m just going to say … it SUCKS.

It’s sad. Based on my own experiences my heart aches for those needing services. If it happened to me then I’m sure it’s happening to countless others. 

In my opinion, if someone almost successfully takes their life and then sits in front of you and says they are not able to function because they are so mentally unwell, I don’t this it’s even sensible to suggest they develop a better sleep routine and that you’ll chat with them in 6 to 8 weeks.

Dude, if you ony knew the half of it ……

Suicide.

A Girl In A Complex World

Even the word is evocative
And provocative
Charged with such emotion and energy.
Memories and thoughts of what was and what could have been
had I succeeded,
had I been successful.

A ‘Successful’ Suicide
What an oxymoron!
A failed attempt and all it leaves
Behind;
Surrounded by despair
That is now also dressed in anger.

The feelings of failure
‘I can’t even kill myself properly’
Let me die.
Please God
Let me go …….
This hurts so much.

Judgement
Where tenderness is most needed
Coldness
Where warmth and compassion are ached for

Their absence proof that staying is futile
Painful
Pointless!

I want a heart that can hear
Without defensive fear
Impatience and dismissal
Without accusations of selfishness
And attention seeking
Smirks and sneers
That cut deeply into my already fragmented self

Bring me a cup of tea
Sit with me
Don’t look away!
Show me tenderness
Truthfulness
Rawness
Be real

I’ve no interest in talks of helplessness And hopelessness
And ideation
And intention
And plans
And triggers

I need humanity
Not science
Not medical jargon

Hold my hand
Connect with me
Allow me to grieve my past self
Allow me to see myself through your eyes;
Help me see hope in you.
Give me some time and I will do the same for you.

Warrior In The Making

A Girl In A Complex World

You are a warrior!

You’re not crazy. It has all been real, and it stretched you, and at times, it has felt as if it would even kill you.
Their words broke your heart.
Their actions broke your trust.
That injury broke your body.
That illness broke your hope.
That circumstance broke your spirit.
BUT GOD…
He came to overcome it all.
And guess what?
It never broke you!
It challenged you, and it LOST!

You’re still here. You’re not “just” a survivor. You’re a fighter. You’re a warrior. And yes, you may be covered in scars, but they are scars of deaths defeat! Your scars have become a memoir of your  journey, and they tell ONLY a story of triumph!

You see, they don’t see you the same way anymore, because a warrior was birthed from the destruction and fires in your life! What was meant to kill you, didn’t and while some keep judging you for starting over, others are clapping because you never quit! You went into the flames covered in life’s grit, but came out of the fire polished in Gods grace!

The abuse, the pain, the anxiety, the bullying, the fear, the anguish, the doubt, the worry, the crushing, the pulling, the words, the moments, the days and the years – were real, but so was your strength and resilience. You did it. You survived everything they said you wouldn’t! You are still standing, and you are a WARRIOR!

Growing

A Girl In A Complex World

You did not come this far for nothing. I promise you. And deep inside your heart, you know it too.

Yet all the setbacks and all the obstacles and all the dark paths you have faced along the way make you question if you have truly made any progress at all.

Do you remember at the beginning when you could barely see the next moment? Now look at you.

You have grown. And taken chances. And fallen. And gotten back up.

And i think that if you were to be honest, you would admit that occasionally when the light shines just so onto your bedroom walls, you can see a glimmer of something. Something that wasn’t there before.

A dream, perhaps. Or a heartbeat that rises up from a place you never thought you had. You are not just trying. You are doing this.

And every step forward is a step in the right direction. Keep going darling. You’ve got places to go.

Remember, in order to get there you have to actually be here. So don’t throw in the towel just yet. Just you wait and see. Your sunshine is on its way. It won’t keep raining forever.

I’m Still Here

A Girl In A Complex World

For the first time in weeks I feel a little bit like myself again. Its probably been more like months but the few weeks have been especially challenging. My mental health has been on a steady decline since the summer came to a close and then I took a nose dive and crashed head first into rock bottom.

There was no one single incident that took place to push me over the edge. I’d been fighting to hold on for a while and my rope just grew so thin that it broke. I’ve been so tired. Just the simple daily stuff has even been too much. Folding laundry had been leading to meltdowns. Once 2 then 3 baskets became filled with clean clothes I’d sit and cry because there was no basket for the dirty stuff. My husband walked in one day and found me sitting on the couch with a towel in my hand, sobbing. I had gotten out of the shower and our 3 laundry hampers were filled with clean clothes so there was nowhere to put my towel or dirty clothes. Folding it felt so far beyond what I was mentally able to process. I thank God for my incredible husband who stepped in and took it over, while I sat there crying and holding on to the towel.

Eating. Drinking. Walking. Talking. Even breathing felt pointless.

And sleep. I don’t know how long I had been without sleep but I know I was into night 3 at least because my husband was working his 3rd 12 hour shift that night and I hadn’t been to bed at all during that stretch of time. I had been purposely avoiding food and water because in the back of my mind I was thinking that the weaker I could make my physical self … the more tired and worn out and deprived I could become … the faster my body would give up at the end.

I had every aspect of my death planned out. How I was going to do it, where I would be, what I would be wearing, precise timing of everything, who would find me, details about my funeral wishes were written down and placed in my wallet with my ID and other important cards, etc

What I didn’t take into consideration was how weak and worn out I actually was. And the apathy … I didn’t care. I was completely shut down. I had been experiencing waves of emotion in between the numbness but for 3 days straight I was a zombie. I just gave up caring.

So those things paired with all the despair and brokeness I had been feeling resulted in a week long stay on the intensive care unit then a transfer to a different hospital an hour away, which is the only place that has a psychiatric inpatient unit in our district. And that’s where I’ve been for the past few  weeks.

Being in the hospital is a challenge all by itself. But today I ventured out of my room and wandered into the main lounge where several staff members were putting up the Christmas tree. A security guard came with a guitar and began singing. After a while I joined in and for the first time since my Nan’s funeral 2 years ago, I sang in front of a group of people.

Today, I feel hope.

Taken Off Guard By Grief

A Girl In A Complex World

Sometimes all I want is a little comfort. Just a tiny sliver of it for a few short moments and I would be grateful. Because the ache of missing someone is just so incredibly intense. I didn’t want to get out of bed today. In fact I haven’t wanted to physically move at all. I did manage to move myself from my bed to the patio outside, where I curled up on the bench and spent hours just staring up at the sky. The sun was perfection. The temperature was perfection. The occasional perfect breeze blew across my face, just enough to remind me to take another breath. Secretly though, I wanted nothing more than to stop. Breathing I mean. To stop … existing.

The thoughts and feelings are haunting me every single minute that I’m awake. Sometimes I just don’t have the energy to fake a smile, because the emotions are way too close to the surface and it feels like the tears are about to slip out at any minute …

But no, thanks. I have managed to come this far today. I’ve made it past 5:30. So I just want to eat some hot soup. Or maybe I can manage some toast instead. But please, please don’t make me go anywhere. I’m just so tired. I know this feeling is temporary and that it will pass, just like the rain that was falling out here last night.

It’s just that sometimes that old familiar longing to have you alive, back here on earth and back in my life again takes me off guard because nothing can ever replace a friend once suicide takes her away. 💔