I was having thoughts of overdosing again today, but nothing too serious. I did notice that the minutes were adding up though. I promised my DBT therapist that I would call a crisis line before I did anything. She reinforced that with saying I need to call even when I start to think about it, so I called.
It went ok, but it’s weird talking to a complete stranger. They obviously know nothing about me, so I had go into the basics about me at first. It did help me redirect my thinking though. She asked me to commit to not doing anything today, and I said I think I can do that
I’m hesitant to make any promises any more, since I said I would never end up in the hospital again at first, and it happened again and again. She said,”Just take it one day at a time”. I REALLY hate that saying. I don’t know how many millions of times I’ve heard that, so I told her that. Without missing a beat she said, ”...ok, one minute at a time”. I laughed, since that was the first time I had heard that one.
I went over to my dad and step-mom’s place after that to help distract myself. I’m not a fan, but they seem to love wrestling. They watched Wrestlemania on pay-per-view. I have never in my life seen that many rednecks in one place. =P
A couple weeks ago I had a really bad night. Earlier that day, staff in the Partial Hospital Program I’m in really started drilling into my childhood. I started remembering things I had suppressed on purpose, and I took it really hard. I totally forgot how shitty my childhood was. I hate saying that, b/c it’s such a cliché blaming everything on your childhood. It hurt to go there though.
Well I took it harder than I thought I had, b/c that night I spent the entirety in bed thinking about suicide, or online planning methods. I don’t have enough of any of my meds to overdose anymore, b/c they will only prescribe me small amounts at one time. I ended up ordering tofranil online after I determined that the likelihood of a successful suicide taking it was high. Tricyclic antidepressants are supposed to be really bad if you overdose.
The pharmacy that the tofranil was coming from is in New Zealand, so they took about two weeks to come. I wasn’t going to tell anyone I had ordered them, but I did reach out. I admitted to it for the first time while I was doing my in-take for DBT. She said I had to commit to no suicide attempts for six months, while the program started to work, or she wouldn’t accept me into it. I was afraid of myself at that point, so I told her about the drugs. She made me tell the staff at the hospital where I’m doing my Partial Hospital Program at right now. I told them, and promised I would surrender it to them when it came.
The tofranil came last friday. I wasn’t going to say anything, again. I thought about bringing them in with me, but I left them in the car. I ended up confessing to the doctor that I had them, and the staff made me go get them. I sat out in my car for a half hour, deciding if I was going to go back with them. I did.
That was a really tough day. Just going through that was hard. Addressing what had happened later in psychotherapy was really hard too. I was really glad when we were done for the day. I actually thought about ordering more tofranil right I got home, but didn’t.
That was definitely a time when I needed to ask for help though.