It has been awhile.
And it has been up and down… mostly down. There have been a couple more hospital stays. One to get me on an injectible mood stabilizer and antipsychotic, after some noncompliance with meds due to psychosis, and another due to the third suicide attempt this year.
I went into a PHP (partial hospitalization program) again after the last hospital stay, but had to discharge early to have back surgery. Pain is a massive trigger for me, and I can say the last month has been really hard. I have been increasingly suicidal and the self injury has been getting worse over that time as well. Finally, after about 3 weeks, I was able to go back for an assessment and start the PHP again. I’ve been back in it since Wednesday, now.
I have wanted to give up many times over the last month. More times than I can count, honestly. It seems like anything that can go wrong has or will, even though that is not necessarily true. It is how it seems when my brain is spiraling down the rabbit hole. The only way to keep my brain from going all the way down seems to be cutting or other forms of self injury.
I know, logically, that is not true. I know, logically, that using coping skills “should” work to calm the storm in my head. It’s that “should” that gets me. The coping skills I typically use are distracting or postponing (video games, 5-minute rule, youTube), processing (journaling), or talking to a friend or another support person or even texting or calling a crisis line (text 741-741 or call 1-800-273-8255). However, when I do attempt to use one or more of these, they only tend to work, if they work at all, for the time that I am doing them. As soon as I stop, the urge, whether it is for self injury of suicide, comes right back.
The key, for me at least, is to keep trying. Keep moving. Keep pushing forward. Don’t stop. Don’t give in and don’t give up. As much as I may want to, even feel like I need to at times, giving up is permanent. In this circumstance, giving up cannot be undone. As long as I make it through the day, alive, and go to bed, alive, there is the chance that tomorrow may be better. Maybe. Possibly. I have enough hope left in me to want to see what tomorrow will bring. That idea that 12 step programs live on… one day at a time… I live by it with my mental health as well. Instead of making it through just one day sober or clean, and worrying about tomorrow when tomorrow comes, I live my life as I only have to live today. The possibility of suicide is there… tomorrow. Not today. It works for me, at least. I’m not giving up. I am stubborn. It may be out of spite, it may be out of some deep-seated need for survival, but I am still alive, so something is working.