Overcoming depression: Part 1.

For me there is no such thing as a pain free day, it just doesn’t exist in my life, every day I wake up with a headache, I have a headache every second, every minute, every hour of the day, every day, I don’t remember what a pain free day feels like, I don’t remember what it feels like not to be in pain. However there is such a thing as a depression free day, I didn’t think there was for me but it does exist I know that now. I’ve been in constant pain for 4 and a half years, pretty soon after the onset of my headache, I lasted a few months before the depression hit and just got worse and worse everyday and I never thought I could be happy again, I never thought that I would ever be okay again if I was always going to be in pain.

I hit breaking point on the 30th September 2012 where I took a very large overdose of anti depressants to try to end my life because I couldn’t stand the pain I was in and didn’t want to continue living if I was always going to be in pain. I’d been working up to it, hoarded three different types of medications one of which I got given by a hospital in England back in summer 2011. They gave me the rest of the left over anti depressants and anti anxiety meds I had been given in hospital, I left the hospital on my own in London instead of my mum coming to pick me up so she didn’t know about the medication I had been given, so I kept it all ready for the ‘right’ time. I had all the medication ready for over a year before I took my final overdose and my note at the ready. In the week leading up to my biggest and final overdose I took two smaller overdoses. The first of anti anxiety, it was only a small one and just made me really tired the next day, so tired I fell asleep in class, which happened often but I fell asleep in art and my art teacher was pissed. A few days later I took another one this time it was anti psychotics I used to help me sleep at night which I had hoarded, again it was only a small one, it didn’t do anything but give me the worst nights sleep of my life and cause me to a have a seizure in the shower in the morning. I’m not entirely sure what I was trying to accomplish with these two smaller overdoses, I guess I was just trying to get a feel for the amount I was taking and what that would do and then gauge how much more I needed to actually achieve my goal of never waking up.

I remember that week at school vividly, I was desperately depressed and didn’t want to live. I had been assigned a teaching assistant in class to help me and it wasn’t going too well. That week she asked if she could have a chat with me, so we went into the library for a chat. She said that it didn’t seem like I wanted to be in class, that I didn’t make any effort, and I replied simply ‘I don’t want to be here let alone in class’. I think that was one of my all time lows, I just didn’t care anymore, didn’t want to go on and I didn’t care who knew.  I posted on my Tumblr that I had before this blog about my two small overdoses, not knowing my sister read it, she told my school counsellor, I hadn’t told her because I knew she would have to tell my parents and I didn’t want that, I had more plans and I didn’t want to be stopped. A meeting was set up with my school counsellor and my parents for Monday the 1st October.

The meeting never happened, on the night of the Sunday 30th September 2012, I took my biggest overdose of the anti depressants I had kept for over a year. I don’t remember much after that, I hardly even remember taking the pills, or how long it took after taking them did I pass out. I don’t remember how long or what time it was when my mum found me. All I remember is being slapped repeatedly in the face, and being shouted at to stay awake by my mum, and my constant reply of shouting ‘fuck off leave me alone’ at them all. After that I don’t remember much else, other than flashing images, a man praying over me in the lift, screaming when they inserted a cathoder in me. I had a tube in my nose feeding me charcoal, my arms were bandaged so the police couldn’t see my scars. I was told I became violent and they nearly put restraints on me because I wouldn’t let anyone treat me. I remember coming to briefly and my mum asked me what I wanted, I said my school counsellor. And the next time I woke up she was there and I was crying asking her why I was alive and she wiped the tears away from my eyes. This I remember vividly, I think it’s possibly the only time I have ever cried in front of my school counsellor. I was in hospital for I think four days, I had quite a few visitors, my school counsellor first, my doctor came to see me, my three closest friends and my psychologist. It was a big secret that I was in hospital and why I was there.

After, I wanted to go back to school but I wasn’t allowed, my parents had a meeting with my school counsellor, head of sixth form and the head teacher. It was decided that I shouldn’t go back to school until my pain levels were under control. Which basically meant I was never going back to school. Not only was I then distraught that I lived but I was distraught that I couldn’t go back to school. My mum then took me to England to see my doctors and my psychiatrist there, we stayed for a few weeks, it didn’t really help and then we went back home.

For a while after that I was in a sort of state of shock after what I had done. And I felt very guilty about what I had put my family through.

To be continued…


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