Will an overdose of Unisom be lethal? Diphenhydramine is a sedating antihistamine. Side effects include daytime drowsiness, dry mouth, blurred vision, constipation and urinary retention. But death... no. In large doses it is not lethal. I Googled it during one of my low points and was mildly disappointed.
Hear me out...I've been where you are.
This narrative is in a page that can't be found inside my blog because this is not a regular post. So if you find yourself here, I'm sorry. I'm sorry and I love you.
I'm sorry because you're hurting and nobody around you really understands. They're trying to, but unless they've been there... they really don't know.
I've fantasized about suicide. It's the ugly bottom of bipolar. I've literally had to talk myself away from lethal tools. I've had to internally repeat, "I will not touch it. I will not touch it. I will not touch it."
Oh, stuff is locked up. But people are always sloppy. And it only takes one time. I could probably sweet talk my way into one of the safes, saying I needed something else. Frost (14) doesn't have any context and he would probably open it for me. Or I could switch the keys when Husband is home. He wouldn't know I had done it. Not until it was too late.
What would I do? I'd leave everything at home and walk down to the lake at the park. Salute...right into the water. Or just climb into the garbage can early on garbage day and do it there. Make it an easy clean up.
I've game-played this out.
I've also considered getting whiskey for the first time in my life. Nobody would stop me from buying it. I'm old enough. Then I could take a nice hot bath and just fall asleep.
There's a family that I follow on Facebook and based on their recent posts I have to assume that one of their family members has been struggling with mental illness. I can also infer that the point of interest is depression.
There was also some sappy rhetoric, "Mental health issues are not shameful. They are a disease like cancer that need professional help."
That's nice and all, but NOT shameful?.... yah right. Shame comes in many forms. When people delete, unfriend, or even block on Facebook when they don't understand how mental illness manifests. When glances are uncomfortable and conversations awkward. When people use "mental illness" or "crazy" as a way to joke around or insult someone. There is still stigma associated with illnesses that cannot be seen and don't show up in blood tests.
I commented on the post something to that effect and an immediate response was, "I don't believe that!" Oh really!?!? Are you telling me that these very specific examples are NOT actually things that I have personally experienced? Are you telling me that your happy, shiny ideal is currently en force? Bite me, you ignorant {bad word}!
Until you've walked a mile in my institutionally issued hospital booties you can shut your damn mouth.
Am I being reckless...giving people ideas? Nope. The ideas are already there, aren't they. If someone is determined....If I'M determined...show's over. Regardless of the tools or methods. Everyone who is struggling with depression may have already game-played their own death. And if anyone has game-played enough to get here ...that was a problem long before we stumbled across each other.
And I wonder about a potential suicide? Would the choice be dramatic? Might it be silent? Will it be painful? Will it be like sleep? What will it really look like?
And ask: Why do I feel like this? Everything is wrong....and nothing is wrong. I have my reasons and you have yours. You think mine aren't valid? I doubt yours are either. Let's both agree not to be determined just yet.
So what stops me? In those moments I don't love myself enough for that to be a hindrance. For me, it's the people around me. People I don't want to hurt. They would blame themselves. Because of me, people would have to walk through the most excruciating, unexplainable pain that life has to offer. My littlest littles would never know me growing up and my absence in their lives would be profound. And then it wouldn't be. Life goes on. If I'm looking to hurt or punish anyone, my biggest victim would be my own self. Husband would probably remarry. The children would learn to live with it and they may even hate me. If I'm really looking to run away, I doubt that I would get very far. My disembodied spirit would linger around them witnessing the painful aftermath of my suicide. And I would be entirely unable to take it back, to comfort them, or say that I'm sorry.
But the darkness....you know what it's like? It’s a destructive and devastating blackness, worse than anyone can imagine. One moment you're plodding along doing just fine and before you can see where it went wrong, your whole world morphs into a terrible vacuum that sucks everything worthwhile and valuable from your consciousness.
Nothing makes any sense. Even logic loses it's jurisdiction. Life is drowned in horrendous nothingness. I'm left with only the complete and utter gray of existence coupled with an incessant bombardment of negative thoughts to end it all.
The worst of it manifested after my diagnoses. Why? Because of the shame and embarrassment of BEING diagnosed. Of having gone through an episode for the first time. Prior to this I still got to this lowest, but not as often. My frequent near lows mostly focused on running away from home. Still throwing my life away, but in a completely different manner.
I've read that when someone gets to the point of being suicidal they are in a highly charged emotional state that leaves them incredibly susceptible. Subtle emotional gestures from a third party can become the focus of immense self identification. In these moments I hang onto emotional crumbs from Husband. He is my lifeline more than he should be. He is strong, but he may not be strong enough for this...honestly. And so I choose to cling to my Shepherd. He has infinite strength. His glances are always filled with compassion and love. His passing words are gentle and strong. He doesn't get tired. He doesn't feel inconvenienced, and has said many times that He WANTS to carry my burden.
You and I...we may be drowning. But the Shepherd walks on water.
If you are feeling suicidal, please get help. When you do it's important to give the treatment time to work. Sometimes it takes more than one medication. For me it was a protocol of different medications over several months. It may take some time before you feel better. Please have faith in the process. Don’t give up. You will get better. Maybe not today. Or even tomorrow. But THIS is not a permanent state of being. You will feel better one day. Have faith in that. Eventually you will look back on your life and be so thankful that you waited one more day. I've known times when all I wanted to do was stop existing. I have faith in the light of tomorrow. We need to be around to enjoy it.
It is exhausting and emotionally draining. I know. You and I? We are the same. You ARE loved. You ARE needed. You have important things to give and to learn in the world. Please trust that even THIS is temporary, especially if you ask for help. Death, however, is not.
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