May 15, 2016
The journal entry that inspired the blog...
It has been suggested to me many times
by friends and professionals alike to write down my feelings. I have
tried to do this throughout my life, but it usually results in maybe
a week of commitment. I definitely benefit from expressing my
thoughts and emotions, but overall I find it an uncomfortable
experience. Add that in with a forgetful brain and a hatred for
handwriting and that pretty much sums up why I am not inclined to
keep a diary. Even now I am writing this as though speaking to an
audience; this method allows me to remain detached from my emotions
as if I were telling a story or writing a factual assignment. I am
also able to give a broad overview of my feelings opposed to going in
depth. Perhaps that defeats the entire purpose, but at least it is a
start, right? Depending on what I write I may let a few people in my
life read this(or most likely a version of this with things edited
out) so they can understand where I'm at right now. Also note that I
am typing instead of handwriting, I'm such a millennial. Now on to
all that emotional mumbo jumbo....
It has been just over two months since
I survived my most significant suicide attempt. As someone who spends
a lot of time “over-thinking,” I find myself self reflecting on
my experiences a lot. This usually can be detrimental for me,
spending most of my time analyzing every detail of a situation or
simply picking apart my flaws. Although this trait can be
debilitating, I have recently found it to not always be a negative
thing. Over the past couple months, reliving my thoughts and choices
has enabled me to grow as a person. Super cheesy but true. Maybe
that's what I will make this weird journal/diary/letter/random
document about: what I have learned from this experience.
Lesson 1: A lot of people care
about me. Seriously.
As someone who has struggled with suicidal thoughts since age 16, I
have spent a fair amount of time thinking I am a waste of space and
that no one cares about me. This is simply not true. When I was in
the hospital (after I became coherent, I might add) I was expecting a
lot of judgement, blame, and anger. Again, not the case. I was
greeted with so much love and empathy it was unreal. Of course people
were upset, but not in the way I had anticipated.
I have actually received a lot of support and offers of support (I'm
stubborn and don't like accepting help) over the last couple of
years. At the time it felt like I was a burden and I viewed the
support as people feeling morally obligated to help a pitiful girl.
In hindsight, I see it for what it truly was. Concern, and most
importantly, love.
Lesson 2: My death would affect
other people.
This lesson ties in a lot with the first one. If people care about
you, they do not want you to die. This actually reminds me of a
conversation I had with a friend last year. It was shortly after one
of my 'less significant' (I don't know what to call it) suicide
attempts. We were driving back from Toronto which provided ample time
for a heart-to-heart. At the end of the drive, I was getting out of
her car and said “You don't want me to do die, do you?” She
replied “The only one who wants you to die is you.” How right she
was.
I had no idea the amount of people my death would impact. It would
have went so far beyond my family and closest friends. The people I
would have least expected stepped up to help me the most. Even the
people I support missed me in my absence.
One of my fondest memories of returning to work started off as a
terrible day. I was about to start my second shift back and I was
feeling incompetent and insecure in my abilities to perform my job. I
was waiting for one of the girls I supported that evening to get off
her school bus. I could see her frantically waving to me out the
window; she was beyond excited to see me. As soon as she stepped off
the bus her face lit up as she screamed out my name, followed by a
loud “I missed you.” Best. Feeling. Ever. If I was that horrible
at my job, I wouldn't have received that reaction.
Lesson 3: Returning to life is
hard
Step 1 – The hospital
During my stay in the hospital I struggled a lot. I was going through
so many emotions and there were a million thoughts racing through my
brain. To say it was overwhelming is an understatement. I absolutely
despised being there, but that being said, it still sheltered me from
the real world. I had very little responsibilities or stressors to
deal with.
Step 2 – Returning home
When I first got home from the hospital I had two weeks before I had
to return to work. This is when I really started to process what had
just happened. At this point my main focus was scheduling
appointments(terrible, I hate phone calls), attempting to manage my
anxiety, and overall just trying to stay alive. Literally. My
responsibilities were returning but I was able to avoid most of them.
I also had so many well-wishers(many who had no idea I tried to kill
myself) that wanted to see me. Understandably, my mom also wanted to
spend a few nights at my apartment. Unfortunately neither the
visitors or the house guest appealed to me. I was too emotionally
drained to deal with too many people or to be over coddled and
closely watched. My solution to this was coming up with excuses
and/or avoiding people all together. That's not to say I didn't speak
to anyone during this period, I was just selective. I definitely
needed support.
Step 3 – Back to work and now (This. Step. Sucked.)
First was the anxiety about returning to work and what that process
entailed. I was supposed to return to work after two weeks but it
ended up being three and half. Not so fun when you are beyond broke.
I am including that extra week and half in this 'step'. I also had a
very bad period of not being able to get out of bed. Then I actually
had to start going to the stupid appointments I scheduled. Therapy
appointments induce lots of annoying emotions that I now have to
balance with functioning at work. Oh, and those responsibilities I
avoided in step 2? They get worse when you don't deal with them.
Naturally I have dealt with some of them and avoided the rest.
The hardest part about this step has been having to return to work,
social obligations, responsibilities, etc., as if nothing had ever
happened. Now people are starting to fade away a bit and I have had
to stand on my own two feet. To them I survived and it's over. To me
the journey of recovery has barely begun. It's not that people
completely stopped helping me, just not as much and in a different
way. Starting to deal with life independently again has been
tremendously scarey, but it needed to happen. It has taken me awhile,
but I am starting to function some-what normally now.
I continue to deal with what I call “phases” of emotion that I
go through. They include things like feeling numb, depressed, too
happy, normal, anxious, etc. My suicidal thoughts are persistent if
nothing else. They have continued, but generally they have been
passing thoughts that I would not act on. Although in all honesty,
the last week they have been a little tougher to deal with again.
However, I think I have been managing quite well considering.
Thankfully I have not went through a “suicidal phase” since I
tried to kill myself. I would say that's progress!
Lesson 4: It's ok not to be ok
So cliche but so true. If you don't admit you're not ok, you can't
(and won't) get the help you need. I have learned that so many people
are not ok, and that, well, that's ok!
Lesson 5: You have to want to
recover
This is a lesson I have had to learn over and over again in the past
few years. Thankfully, I think it has finally clicked. I now make the
choice to live everyday. I actually put effort into my therapy and
listen to what they are saying. I seek help opposed to being dragged
to it. I practice coping techniques at home and I research ways to
deal with what I struggle with. I have even joined online support
groups! Some days wanting to recover is easier that others, but it is
a must!
Lesson 5: Recovering is going to
be long and terrible but thankfully...
Lesson 6: I am stronger than I
ever could have imagined
Lesson 7: Don't tell people my
diagnosis
This lesson did not take me very long to learn. Initially I was so
happy to have a diagnosis; it enabled me to have better understanding
of what is going on with me. However, people assume the decisions I
make and thoughts I have all revolve around the diagnosis. For
example, yes being impulsive is part of my diagnosis, but no I did
not go out to dinner because of it. Last time I checked, I am not the
only person in the world to decide to go out for dinner last minute.
What actually motivated me was not wanting to cook, not my diagnosis.
So as helpful as a diagnosis is, for the most part I'll keep it to
myself.
Lesson 8: Fake it until you make
it still works
This a coping mechanism that has always worked for me when I'm
feeling down. For example, if I don't want to go out with my friend,
I should do it anyway. Faking it gets me out of the house and
sometimes I even end up enjoying myself! Other times I go home
overwhelmed and recluse to my bed. It's certainly worth try.
Lesson 9: God didn't forget about
me, he's the reason I'm still alive.
For a long time I was angry at God. Why was he letting these things
happen to me? Where was he? As I look back I realize he was always
there. There are so many times I could not have made it without him.
Lately I have been spending time thinking about the people he has put
in my life. There are certain people in particular that appeared at
just the right moment. I have also been reflecting on specific
events or thoughts that have literally redirected the course of my
life. I am so blessed and thankful.
Hi Amanda: My name is Laverna Randall, and it was a pleasure to meet with you at the Mourning Tea. As a survivor of suicide, it is true that no one truly understands what you feel than those who have also been through it. It's wonderful to see you thriving, and thank you for the blog invite. lavernarandall@yahoo.ca
ReplyDeleteThank you, it was nice meeting you as well. Perhaps we will run into each other again!
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