My mental health is deteriorating. I have been isolating myself from my friends, both on the net and on the phone. (we don’t have any friends that live out here) Sure I still go online, but not like I used to. I haven’t been reaching out to my fellow loss moms or support groups. The truth is I don’t want people to know how bad it has really gotten for me.
I have been having an extremely difficult time during the last 3-4 weeks. I have become suicidal. Jim and I think it’s the Zoloft, because I didn’t start feeling this way until I began the medication. So I am slowing weaning myself off of it.( I know I can do it, because I weaned myself off of Prozac in 2011)
My anxiety and panic attacks are getting worse too, and I have been doubling up on the Ativan. It’s helping me stay calm, but the problem is I’m running out of it faster. So I put in a call to the psychiatrist I met with. (who still hadn’t referred me to a therapist) I guess she is out of town for the week GRRRR FRUSTRATING! I asked for a referral and to speak with someone about my medication issues. I got the referral, I will see someone in 2 weeks, but still haven’t had any help with my meds.
Yesterday I attempted to exercise using a Pilates video on YouTube. (I used to do Pilates, using the same video, like 10 years ago) I am out of shape and it was very painful and it really upset me. I proceeded to smash my forehead into the computer desk. I fucking flipped out. I started crying and screaming, saying I hated myself and my body. I rolled around on the floor in agony while Jim stood by, completely helpless. I wrapped a cord around my neck and tried to choke myself. Jim of course stopped me and tried his best to calm me down. I screamed in agony at the top of my lungs. Seriously, I am surprised no one called the police.
Over the next few hours I basically had a child like temper tantrum. I threw things, I punched myself in the belly, I ripped my hair out, and I cried until my eyes ached.
This is so out of character for me. I have never felt this way or acted this way. Even when I was a teen, even when I was an active alcoholic, it never got this bad.
Jim asked me if I needed to go to the hospital.
I have been there before, and I am not sure that it would be helpful.
The truth is, I don’t think anything will help me.
Not medication, or therapy, or hospitalization.
The only way out of the pain is through it, and there is 30 years of pain rising to the surface for the first time. Grace’s death was the catalyst. It’s like a flood now, and there is no way to stop it.
I guess I am just going to keep at it, go to therapy, and if I feel it’s necessary I will go to the hospital.
Jim asked me to promise not to hurt myself.
I couldn’t. I’m not going to make a promise unless I know I can keep it.
I promised to try.
That’s the best I can do for now.