One Year of Survival

It’s been a year since my suicide attempt.  In some ways, I feel like I’ve made strides forward and in other ways, I feel like I’m exactly the same.  The old saying, “One step forward, two steps back” so aptly applies.  I have days where I feel good…great, even.  I get out and do things and actually enjoy myself.  And then I have days where I don’t even want to leave my bed.  There are days when I feel smart and beautiful…and days where I feel ugly and stupid.  There are days when I feel funny and charming…and days where I feel boring and witless.

I often wonder where my life would be if I hadn’t attempted suicide…would my marriage be intact, instead of in tatters?  Would my mind be full of ideas instead of full of doubt?  Would I have an abundance of self-confidence instead of an abundance of self-loathing?  Would I like myself?  Would I love myself?

It’s easy to think that because I survived my suicide attempt, that I’m fine…that surviving made me appreciate life and that I realize what a mistake it was.  But that is not true.  Deep down, in the places that I don’t talk about, I wonder if God made a mistake in saving me…if I deserve this second chance at life.  I feel so unworthy…and yet so ungrateful.

I wish I could say that the bad days help me appreciate the good days…but it’s not that simple.  When I have good days, I wonder why I can’t always feel that way.  When I have bad days, I think it’s what I deserve. 

I am a walking contradiction…and I’m learning to live with that…because I don’t really know what year two will bring…and I don’t have expectations.  I do have a wish…I wish to be comfortable…in my own skin…with who I am…with what I do…with what I don’t do…so that is what I am striving for in year two…I survived year one…I want to thrive in year two…

Med Compliant

Staying med compliant is something that is a bit of an issue for me.  And it is often for the simplest of reasons.

Let’s go back a few years, when I first started taking anti-depressants.  I was in a funk and started seeing a therapist who suggested that a low dose of Zoloft might help.  One of the first things that she did was have bloodwork done, to rule out low thyroid, vitamin deficiency, iron deficiency, or something else.  It took about a month to get all the results back (had to get tested twice) and then I finally started taking the Zoloft.  It was like a miracle.  After a few weeks, I could feel myself feeling better.  I still had depressive episodes, but the meds helped me feel a bit more even, not so many lows.

I was on Zoloft for a year and with that and thru therapy, I started to feel better.  So I stopped taking my meds.  And so was the roller coaster for several years.  I would take Zoloft, feel better and stop taking it.  And the periods of feeling better were getting shorter and shorter.

Along with the Zoloft, I was also prescribed Ativan to help with sleep.  It was amazing.  I have had sleep issues since I was 15 and it is often difficult for me to fall asleep and stay asleep.  My mind refuses to quiet down and I am constantly over-thinking everything.  The Ativan helped quiet my mind and allowed me to actually fall asleep and stay asleep.

In 2013, I was back in Indiana, hitting a low point when I went to see a therapist.  It finally hit me that meds were important…that I needed to take them on a regular basis, even when I started to feel better.  I was switched off Ativan (my new psychiatrist was concerned because it has addictive properties).  I tried Trazadone, but it made me feel like a zombie.  I then tried Remeron and nirvana!  I could actually fall asleep and stay asleep. 

A quick digression about my sleep…I am not quite sure what started my sleep issues, but I do know that my circadian rhythm is a bit off.  I still haven’t figured out whether my body clock is less than 24 hours or more than 24 hours.  I just know that without sleep meds, I got about three hours of sleep a night and would have several nights where I got no sleep at all.  I have endured two sleep studies (one when I was in my early 20s and one just a few years ago).  Neither study found anything that would interfere with my sleep.  I am sure that it might be something to delve into with my therapist, but there are more pressing issues at the top of the list. 

Ok…back to the topic…med compliance…the issue that I have is not that I don’t want to take my meds…after last year, I KNOW that I need to take my meds or bad things happen.  And I really want to take my meds because I don’t like how I feel when I’m not taking them.  I also know that I might have to take them for the rest of my life.  I’m ok with that possibility.

Every week, I get my weekly pill containers out (now I have two – one for home and one that stays in my travel bag) and dutifully put the requisite number of pills in for each morning and each evening.  No excuse, right? 

And yet, at least once a week (sometimes more), I find myself running out the door, not having taken my meds.  This usually corresponds with the fact that I haven’t eaten breakfast (another habit I’m trying to break…fast…bahahahaha). 

I’ve tried reminder apps, alarms, quick notes, etc…all with varied (but not long-lasting) success.

I decided to remedy this in two ways.  First, I bought a gallon of orange juice so at least I have a glass of juice whilst taking my pills (and getting a bit of something in my system).

And, I have started a system.  I bought these supercute stickers and in my calendar, I put a smileyface sticker when I take my morning pills and a star when I take my evening pills.  When I have a week of total med compliance, I will reward myself (with what, I don’t know yet because I don’t really deprive myself of anything).

Only time will tell if this system works.