Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
What's in the name?
A little background is necessary, I think, to get us started.
I recently attempted suicide and obviously failed. This wasn't my first attempt, but hopefully my last. The first two times I tried and failed made me feel more of a failure than I already wrongly thought of myself. Of course, failing one more time didn't help me one bit, but I did succeed, in a way, to get myself out of the funk. This time, the difference was I blacked out for three days... or at least have no recollection of those days at all. I felt... reset. This third time was different.
I'm not a religious person. I consider myself more spiritual (try explaining that to a six year old). It's not like I saw the light or a voice from above called out to me. In fact, nothing really happened, except in my brain. All of a sudden, it was like a switch went off in my head and a "positive" thought flooded into my brain, which in itself is miraculous. (I'm a firm believer in "hope for the best, expect the worst"... not a completely positive statement). This switch made me realize that maybe, just maybe, there is a purpose for me after all. I have no idea what that might be. I first thought that maybe my purpose was my children. As much as I love my children, I knew my purpose involved them in a different manner. I thought that maybe when I can find comfort in myself, I can be a better person. Clarity will set me free. Even though I have been me for over 30 years, I really don't know myself too well. I know my brain doesn't work like anybody else's; I know I'm a talented artist. However, didn't know why my brain was the way it was... why my thoughts wouldn't stop... why only the negative thoughts stuck... why I would be consumed by rage or massive depression all of a sudden! Still don't know the answers to all these questions, but I am, most definitely, capable now to ponder it more clearly.
My terms for discharge from the hospital were to go to a therapist, attend a support group at the hospital and take all my medications properly. Never before did I go to a reputable therapist or support groups. So far, I have survived TWO months since my last attempt. I am, still breathing... but now I smile. I hope you take this little trip with me.... down memory lane, up the new beginning and 'round and 'round.
I recently attempted suicide and obviously failed. This wasn't my first attempt, but hopefully my last. The first two times I tried and failed made me feel more of a failure than I already wrongly thought of myself. Of course, failing one more time didn't help me one bit, but I did succeed, in a way, to get myself out of the funk. This time, the difference was I blacked out for three days... or at least have no recollection of those days at all. I felt... reset. This third time was different.
I'm not a religious person. I consider myself more spiritual (try explaining that to a six year old). It's not like I saw the light or a voice from above called out to me. In fact, nothing really happened, except in my brain. All of a sudden, it was like a switch went off in my head and a "positive" thought flooded into my brain, which in itself is miraculous. (I'm a firm believer in "hope for the best, expect the worst"... not a completely positive statement). This switch made me realize that maybe, just maybe, there is a purpose for me after all. I have no idea what that might be. I first thought that maybe my purpose was my children. As much as I love my children, I knew my purpose involved them in a different manner. I thought that maybe when I can find comfort in myself, I can be a better person. Clarity will set me free. Even though I have been me for over 30 years, I really don't know myself too well. I know my brain doesn't work like anybody else's; I know I'm a talented artist. However, didn't know why my brain was the way it was... why my thoughts wouldn't stop... why only the negative thoughts stuck... why I would be consumed by rage or massive depression all of a sudden! Still don't know the answers to all these questions, but I am, most definitely, capable now to ponder it more clearly.
My terms for discharge from the hospital were to go to a therapist, attend a support group at the hospital and take all my medications properly. Never before did I go to a reputable therapist or support groups. So far, I have survived TWO months since my last attempt. I am, still breathing... but now I smile. I hope you take this little trip with me.... down memory lane, up the new beginning and 'round and 'round.
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