*I am going to try to mark posts that are suicide related with an asterick. I try to be sensitive that others may not really want to read this, but I need to be able to write about it and this blog is where that needs to happen to keep it in context.
Before I came home from the hospital last time Dr. Mind and I agreed that I would have 2 locked med boxes. One has a keyed lock and he has the keys; I take the box to him and count out handfuls of pills every Thursday. The other has a padlock. My daily meds are in there and I can get in the box at will; the hope is that if I feel very impulsive having to find the numbers to open the lock will slow me. So far we've had good success with this and while I get annoyed with lugging meds around all the time and having to guess how many PRN meds I'll need in a given time span it does keep me safe.
The padlock I bought has a feature where you can change the code. The thing is that it is not easy to do. I had to try numerous times to manage to push the little button with a pen while holding the big button down and standing on my head. I'm beginning to wish I could reset my brain with a little fine motor coordination.
When I came home from the hospital it was with the knowledge that I would possibly struggle with the suicidal thinking for a while and a lot of support would be given to monitor and keep me safe. While acknowledging this one of the first things that Dr. Mind said when I came home was that he can help but he cannot keep me safe if I don't want to be because the world is full of dangers. That was one of the most important things anyone has said to me about any of this. Sure enough, if I go into a pharmacy I find myself fighting to stay away from medications. This happens every time. I try to avoid them but sometimes can't help needing something sold by a pharmacy. However, being aware that I am walking in a more dangerous place has kept me from doing anything dangerously impulsive thus far.
This coming week scares me. This whole returning my work things is a day I have hoped for years would never happen, yet feared because I knew it might. It's hard enough to leave a job I love, but it is much, much harder to leave a whole career. I am not going to say all this again; I've been saying it for so long now.
My sleep is getting even more messed up than it was. I had a nasty nightmare 2 nights ago that I can't seem to get out of my head. It's a tough one because it is possible that it is real. But I don't know. I hope Dr. Mind can help. A few years ago somehow my terror of guns came up in counseling. It seemed pretty evident that I have had some bad experience that I don't remember. I may have dreamed about it. The first thing to know is that I was a suicidal teenager for some time. The second is that guns were kept in the open, bullets were kept with the guns and despite my terror I know how to load and fire the pistol that was in our home. I'm sure I've fired rifles as well since we had them but I don't remember how to do anything with them. In this dream I climbed on a chair, retrieved the pistol and some bullets, climbed down and loaded the gun. I woke then scared and have barely slept since. I have no idea if this is a real dream or just another way my mind is threatening my body. But having this dream while facing a week that is going to be rough is not helpful and makes me wonder what else my brain has to throw at me. I'm becoming more and more certain that my brain hates me. Or it is just sad like everything else.