A couple of weeks ago, I had an appointment to see my GP . The sertraline had stopped working, and I wasn't sleeping again. So, rather than put me on two different medications, the GP decided to take me off the high dose of Sertraline, and put me on a low dose 20mgs of Paroxetine, with an appointment to follow in 3 weeks time, just before Xmas to see how I was adjusting.
Not a good time, as well as having more and more anxiety attacks, I was plagued by thoughts of killing myself and just finishing it. In my head it was perfectly rational thoughts such as 'Well, if I'm not here anymore, I don't have to keep going through this. I don't have to keep making my family and loved ones miserable because I can't control my emotions, and if I'm not here anymore, they don't have to deal with me. Simple' . Except, we all know it's not. I reported these thoughts to my GP at my follow-up appointment, and he doubled my dose of Paroxetine. I also admitted to him that I'd been self medicating with my fiance's Clonazepam to help me sleep, and so he gave me up to 10 days worth of 2mg Clonazepam pills, with instructions to take no more than 3 a day. And yet another follow-up appointment.
At first, I took one Clonazepam at night, and my Paroxetine in the morning, and that worked out fine for helping me sleep. But the Clonazepam made me woozy, I was confused and I was having trouble keeping my balance, so, instead of taking 1 at night, I took half. However, the suicidal thoughts didn't go away. And they were constantly in my head. Friends on Facebook would tell me they loved me, and to hang in there, and if the thoughts got really bad, to just call SOMEONE. And I really tried. Last Sunday evening, I took 8 Paroxetine pills and 10 Clonazepam pills, then told my fiance what I'd done, and burst into tears. After a sigh, and a hug, he made some calls and we were on our way to A&E in a cab.
In the 20 minutes it took to get there, the Clonazepam had really taken hold of my system, I had slurred speech, was dizzy, confused, could barely hold myself upright, let alone walk, and to boot, the rational side of my brain (admittedly slow at times) was furiously berating myself for what I'd done. Somewhere along the line, I'd posted to everyone on facebook that I'd overdosed, and apologized for letting everyone down. Oh yes, and a picture to prove I'd been a good girl and let the nurse put an IV line into me without tears or a tantrum (I'm terrified of needles!) Then I got comfy on the trolley, covered myself with the provided blanket and went to sleep to wait for the Doctor.
When he eventually arrived, he seemed okay Asked whether I'd had any vomiting, any pain, all the usual questions. Then he asked whether I'd done it deliberately. I said yes, cause I had, but also that I regretted it. I was asked if I would see the crisis team, and flatly refused. When we were sent to the clinical decisions unit, I happened to see my name up on the board, with a statement that I was awaiting the mental health team. Straightaway, I got up and questioned this decision, I had told the doctor no, and that was that. Eventually, after the doctor had reviewed my heart trace and my blood results, a nurse removed the IV, and we were free to leave. It was 3am.
The whole episode upset me a LOT. I still feel that I've let people down by making that decision, but even worse, I now have to rely on my fiance to give me my pills daily. They're under lock and key because I'm still suffering from the suicidal thoughts. As yet, I've still to discuss this with my GP at my follow-up appointment on the 4th February. And I'm scared that he's not going to be happy with me either. I'm scared of what's happening to me. I really am. I used to be one of those who would consider a suicide attempt as a cry for help. I no longer believe that. I did what I did simply because one way or the other, I wanted what I was/am feeling to end. It doesn't matter how that happens.
And one thing to remember is that if you've never suffered from suicidal thoughts/attempts, it's useless to judge others who've done it. You really don't know what's going through their minds. Instead of saying that they want attention, try asking if there's anything you can do to help. Sometimes, a willing ear is all that's needed. Mental illness is serious, and it can be life threatening. Just because you can't see the illness doesn't mean it's not there.
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