Three years ago Christmas wasn't so jolly for me. In fact it was the complete opposite. About a week before Christmas I requested pscyhiatric admission. I didn't explain to anyone that I was days away from overdosing or that I very much did not want to live anymore. My memory of that time is very blurry and I don't know what I was telling Dr. Mind but I know it wasn't the truth because I remember clearly sitting in a conference room in the hospital with my back to the glass walls and telling him while crying so hard that I wasn't moving enough for the motion-sensor lights to pick me up so I kept being plunged into darkness. I remember Dr. Brain being at the hospital on Christmas day and although she had read my chart and seen what I had written that was essentially a suicide note I still had to tell her and I was scared she was going to be very mad at me. Instead she sat on my bed and held me while I cried for much longer than her need to see every psych patient in the hospital that day time really allowed for. I remember her telling me that I couldn't go home without a solid safety plan and I remember talking to Dr. Mind on the phone working that out. I remember more about that conversation although mostly that it was interrupted by the lab person coming to draw a lithium level which was a weird thing to happen during a therapy session, phone or not. But I don't remember how I felt now really, other than worse than I hope to ever feel again. That was a terrible time.
For a variety of reasons my just-short-of-an-attempt was taken extremely seriously and I actually did not get off precautions until about 7 or 8 months ago. Until that time I had to keep my stock of meds locked up and Dr Mind had the key, so every week I lugged in a large metal toobox with a padlock that had the meds in it and I got a week's supply, later 2 weeks supply, out. We got so good that I could be done in a few minutes usually while he finished his note from the prior patient and went to the bathroom. I actually was told I needed to buy the metal box a while into the whole thing because he was afraid I'd break into the plastic one easily if I was desperate enough. The reality was that I could jam the metal one open if I tried, which I discovered accidentally and told him about immediately. That kind of honesty is required of me now.
One thing that changed after the hospitalization was that prior to that I had promised that I would tell him if I felt that way. After sobbing about breaking that promise and that I didn't deserve to be trusted anymore one day he spent a long time making me believe that I didn't lie for any reason but that I was so ill. So now the deal is that I only have to not lie if he asks me directly which never happens.
Today though was a little weird and I have a feeling it is a reminder that my past had some scary moments. I was supposed to see Dr. Mind Monday but with the fevers I changed to today to avoid infecting him on a 3rd attempt. I didn't know I was sick one week and last week had a night without a fever so I thought I was better. Not so much. Today I couldn't go because we had serious ice at the time I needed to leave. No big deal, just a missed week which rarely happens.
Except that he called to check on me. And I'm not completely sure why. It was nice of him to do that but unusual to an extreme. Except that it IS this time of year, a time that is always difficult for me and also the time that I was very dangerous to myself. I've been doing great lately. Everyone is pleased. So it wasn't like he had reason to worry from anything I've said or done. I think he just was making sure I wasn't fighting myself over swallowing scary meds in large quantities. Which feels weird. I know that what I went through was dangerous and serious. I have just moved on now and don't really expect it to play much role in my life. I just have a feeling he didn't like the timing and was afraid that the sick Jen he was a week ago was hiding things from him.
I wonder if you ever really move past that point with people who truly know how bad it was.
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