After writing just recently about how I would not like my final hours to be, I became very unwell again and found myself in the exact position I said I would never ever be in again. Trying to end my life.
I spent the first few days after it never worked feeling very ashamed and very disappointed in myself. I didn’t even tell anybody. My carers knew and my doc and the hospital, cause they took me there, but I couldn’t being myself to tell anybody in my life. Not again!
I have told a couple of people now, now that I know I have some control back. I think it was only when I could look somebody in the eye knowing it wasn’t an imminent event again, that I could admit it. I never told for sympathy, I told for help.
I really, really need help sometimes. My doc said I have to call the Samaritans even though I don’t think talking to anybody helps when I’m like that, but he said I need one step in between thinking it and acting on it, and he’s right, so I agreed I would.
I’m so ashamed and embarrassed of my behavior sometimes. I’m upset with myself for giving up, for constantly trying to throw my life away. But I know at the same time feeling ashamed has never brought me much positivity so I am trying to forgive myself.
I have been writing a lot and not publishing it. You don’t even know me but I’m still embarrassed of half the stuff that comes out of my head! It does help me to write though.
I haven’t been getting much sleep and I have been doing odd things. Things that when I look back at I know I will laugh at. I’ll write more about my odd non sleeping things separately.
I do hope I can look back and laugh at all of this one day. I’m sure not many people would find it funny but I know there are some comedy moments in there. When the dust settles I will try to find them.