This Is Not Good For My Self Esteem.
.
101 days into my sobriety and I found myself in the psyc ward.
It started a day ago when I woke up feeling apathetic. I knew immediately what was coming and tried with little gusto to try to turn my destiny with depression into another direction, but to no avail. My day was difficult to deal with and everything seemed like a chore to do, but I was able to get through my day without making my struggles anyone’s problems, which is great progress for me.
When I went to bed I knew that things would become worse I just did not know how much worse it would become, I never do. When my alarm went off I felt like the world was laying on my chest and I knew I was beat. I had to be at work in an hour and a half and tried to get myself up from bed and just could not do it. I even tried the "At the count of 3 get up. 1, 2, 3. Ok, This time do it. 1, 2, 3. Come on Ben you have to get up or you will get into trouble. 1, 2, 3..." No matter what I said to myself my body would not respond. Then the mind took another direction. "I don't care. I'm trying my best and I just can't do it. I'm not build for life. I just can't do it." At this point I just wanted someone to take over and just tell me what to do or just run my life for me. I saw myself being thrown out sitting on the front steps waiting for the police to take me into custody because I could not run my own life anymore. I think to myself "fight just a little bit." I finally forced myself up and it felt like not living, really I did. I also needed to go eat. I knew if I did not I would be in a lot more trouble because not eating for me leads a deeper kind of depression that takes a life of its own. So I went and ate and hated it every bite, it was like a job you've been doing for way to long. I only ate in hopes that it would change how I felt and it did, I felt worse. Then I went back to bed and passed out until my alarm went off. I have an appointment with Dr. Majors in one hour and I knew if I really wanted help I would have to show up. Is that not why I am here? So I took a shower and was exhausted, by the time I was done and felt worse once again. Now my dilemma is do I tell him I could not get out of bed and face the responsibilities of my life. I was scared because what if they throw me out, but I knew if I did not they would not be able to help me with what really was happening within me. I felt so conflicted, but I really want to be normal and happy and the only way to get there is to tell on myself and so I told.
After my session with Dr. Majors, which included lots of tears, I went back to bed and fell into a deep sleep. I again was awoken by my alarm because of dinner and the two classes I had to go to. It took so much energy to do all three. I felt so exhausted from thinking that I just wanted to collapse into tears and just give up. I was so sad and did not know why, but I just wanted the suffering to go away and I had no way to get it out of me. If only someone could reach in and turn the switch, but who and how.
Then things started to really take a nose dive and I could feel it. It is odd, but I could physically feel a shift in my body and my thoughts followed close behind and I knew I was in a lot of trouble, but the problem was that deep down I did not care. I hate feeling this way and not knowing why, but worse not knowing how to change it or having the resources to do so.
"You should just take all your pills." was my next thought and for a moment I considered the thought. "Don't be stupid you know you won't, your just being mellow dramatic." Then I remembered that I did try to take my own life on November 19. "Things are different since then, suicide is real for you now. Turn your pills in to the nurses station." Again, I lay there like a participant in someone else’s life. "Just do it! Your not being mellow dramatic. You have reason to be cautious. Your untrustworthy in this state." So, I collect all ten or so bottles and turn them in. The nurses of course are taken aback, but I have no time to really explain. I go back to bed and think of other ways I could end my life. "You can hang yourself, no that would hurt and it would take to much energy. You could slice your wrist? That would hurt, but then again that could feel good like when you scratch a mosquito bite. That also would take a lot of work just to get a blade." Ok. now I know I am in trouble and decide to call my sponsor Vangie and she is deeply conserned by how distraught I am. I can’t get all my words across because now I am crying uncontrollably. She tells me to go tell the nurses what is going on and so I do.
I tell the doctor at the emergency room what has been going on and that I do not want to stay in the hospital. I just don't want to go to the psyc ward. I also tell him that I will do what he asks since he is the doctor and I can't see things as clearly as him. He truly feels for me and tells me he is sorry for my suffering. I want to cry because I thought that word not an hour ago. "I just want my suffering to end." then I ridicule myself by thinking "You are so mellow dramatic no wonder you can stay sober." He tells me that I will be admitted to the hospital and I will be excorted to the ward for my own safty.
While I was talking to the doctor I was starting to feel better and I knew that I am on the up swing. Now I am begining to feel stupid again because I just do not know how it is that I can go from such sadness an hour ago to feeling a little bit better to ok in such a short time. This is the part where I get pretty confused and start thinking that maybe I am mellow dramatic. That maybe I am playing mind games with myself, but the fact is that for me I will never know. What I do know is that my feelings and thought were real and not taking action could get me in serious trouble with myself.
So, I sit on a table in the psyc ward thinking "This is not good for my self esteem.”
101 days into my sobriety and I found myself in the psyc ward.
It started a day ago when I woke up feeling apathetic. I knew immediately what was coming and tried with little gusto to try to turn my destiny with depression into another direction, but to no avail. My day was difficult to deal with and everything seemed like a chore to do, but I was able to get through my day without making my struggles anyone’s problems, which is great progress for me.
When I went to bed I knew that things would become worse I just did not know how much worse it would become, I never do. When my alarm went off I felt like the world was laying on my chest and I knew I was beat. I had to be at work in an hour and a half and tried to get myself up from bed and just could not do it. I even tried the "At the count of 3 get up. 1, 2, 3. Ok, This time do it. 1, 2, 3. Come on Ben you have to get up or you will get into trouble. 1, 2, 3..." No matter what I said to myself my body would not respond. Then the mind took another direction. "I don't care. I'm trying my best and I just can't do it. I'm not build for life. I just can't do it." At this point I just wanted someone to take over and just tell me what to do or just run my life for me. I saw myself being thrown out sitting on the front steps waiting for the police to take me into custody because I could not run my own life anymore. I think to myself "fight just a little bit." I finally forced myself up and it felt like not living, really I did. I also needed to go eat. I knew if I did not I would be in a lot more trouble because not eating for me leads a deeper kind of depression that takes a life of its own. So I went and ate and hated it every bite, it was like a job you've been doing for way to long. I only ate in hopes that it would change how I felt and it did, I felt worse. Then I went back to bed and passed out until my alarm went off. I have an appointment with Dr. Majors in one hour and I knew if I really wanted help I would have to show up. Is that not why I am here? So I took a shower and was exhausted, by the time I was done and felt worse once again. Now my dilemma is do I tell him I could not get out of bed and face the responsibilities of my life. I was scared because what if they throw me out, but I knew if I did not they would not be able to help me with what really was happening within me. I felt so conflicted, but I really want to be normal and happy and the only way to get there is to tell on myself and so I told.
After my session with Dr. Majors, which included lots of tears, I went back to bed and fell into a deep sleep. I again was awoken by my alarm because of dinner and the two classes I had to go to. It took so much energy to do all three. I felt so exhausted from thinking that I just wanted to collapse into tears and just give up. I was so sad and did not know why, but I just wanted the suffering to go away and I had no way to get it out of me. If only someone could reach in and turn the switch, but who and how.
Then things started to really take a nose dive and I could feel it. It is odd, but I could physically feel a shift in my body and my thoughts followed close behind and I knew I was in a lot of trouble, but the problem was that deep down I did not care. I hate feeling this way and not knowing why, but worse not knowing how to change it or having the resources to do so.
"You should just take all your pills." was my next thought and for a moment I considered the thought. "Don't be stupid you know you won't, your just being mellow dramatic." Then I remembered that I did try to take my own life on November 19. "Things are different since then, suicide is real for you now. Turn your pills in to the nurses station." Again, I lay there like a participant in someone else’s life. "Just do it! Your not being mellow dramatic. You have reason to be cautious. Your untrustworthy in this state." So, I collect all ten or so bottles and turn them in. The nurses of course are taken aback, but I have no time to really explain. I go back to bed and think of other ways I could end my life. "You can hang yourself, no that would hurt and it would take to much energy. You could slice your wrist? That would hurt, but then again that could feel good like when you scratch a mosquito bite. That also would take a lot of work just to get a blade." Ok. now I know I am in trouble and decide to call my sponsor Vangie and she is deeply conserned by how distraught I am. I can’t get all my words across because now I am crying uncontrollably. She tells me to go tell the nurses what is going on and so I do.
I tell the doctor at the emergency room what has been going on and that I do not want to stay in the hospital. I just don't want to go to the psyc ward. I also tell him that I will do what he asks since he is the doctor and I can't see things as clearly as him. He truly feels for me and tells me he is sorry for my suffering. I want to cry because I thought that word not an hour ago. "I just want my suffering to end." then I ridicule myself by thinking "You are so mellow dramatic no wonder you can stay sober." He tells me that I will be admitted to the hospital and I will be excorted to the ward for my own safty.
While I was talking to the doctor I was starting to feel better and I knew that I am on the up swing. Now I am begining to feel stupid again because I just do not know how it is that I can go from such sadness an hour ago to feeling a little bit better to ok in such a short time. This is the part where I get pretty confused and start thinking that maybe I am mellow dramatic. That maybe I am playing mind games with myself, but the fact is that for me I will never know. What I do know is that my feelings and thought were real and not taking action could get me in serious trouble with myself.
So, I sit on a table in the psyc ward thinking "This is not good for my self esteem.”
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