Peter Gabriel (Feat. Kate Bush) - Don't Give Up
Mental Health Inpatient Stay - 11 days
That happened.
I wish I could say it was this "one thing" that made me do what I did... but really, it is a cornucopia of self-neglect and denial. In November I had a plan - I even took a photo of the place I was going to blow my brains out. Then I happened upon the path of a NP who recognized the signs and tried to admit me. I wouldn't do it. I knew I would know people, my daughter was coming to visit in less than a week, and I was convinced that I "had this" and could turn it around. Almost exactly two-months later I tried my best to end my life - lots of tequila, with the intent to follow it with pills ... I ended up too much tequila-ed and, to my chagrin, I woke up the next morning.
Let's talk about depression. ... I paused a lot before I even started to type. This subject is taboo and it's frowned upon. Worse - it's a killer. Let's look at the numbers - you know I LOVE numbers:
- Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the US
- In 2017, 47,173 Americans died by suicide
- In 2017, there were an estimated 1,400,000 suicide attempts
- In 2015, suicide and self-injury cost the US $69 Billion
- On average, there are 129 suicides per day
- White males accounted for 77.97% of suicide deaths in 2017
- In 2017, firearms accounted for 50.57% of all suicide deaths
Being admitted to the hospital, on a ward where I couldn't have shoe laces, or personal hygiene items (without supervision), I couldn't have my cell phone or computer, had to ask to take a shower or make a phone call - well, it strips a lot of the fluff from your identity. My first week I did a lot of co-counseling with the staff - because after all, I can give amazing insight and advice to others. Then the staff called me out on working on everyone but me - and it was recommended that I not attend group sessions anymore. Stripped of my fluff - I had to focus on me and it was/is me that I didn't like in the first place.
Since I've been out of the loony bin (come on, we have to joke about this), I've seen MDs, PAs, NPs, LCSW, LCPCs and more... I have a lot of work to do on me to be healthy. (On a funny note - the psychiatrist today had to schedule another meeting today because my history could not be told in an hour and fifteen minutes....)
And I guess that's where I'm trying to go with this blog. You can't run away from the past. You have to face it. You can't drown it in alcohol, you can't obsessively spend time at work, you can't ignore it or even pretend that you're okay.
You have to be braver than you've ever been in all your life to deal with depression - it's an illness just like cancer and heart disease. (The fact that suicide is in the top 10 death statistics with cancer and heart disease says a lot.)
We don't like to talk about depression, or PTSD, or suicidal thoughts. It makes us seem weak and not worthy of the time and attention we give other diseases. My work recently donated a quarter of a million dollars to a hospital that is expanding their mental health services - and yet - I was still scared out of my mind of the stigma and perception of me from my leadership and my peers. I fear(ed) that they would not put their mouth where they put their money. Frankly, until I got back to work, I still won't know.
And I have to believe that the good I've done in the past will matter - that my value is not in pretending to be alright - but it's in the people's lives I touch, the amazing work I love to do for our members and providers, and it's the foresight to know that taking care of me now will make a better me in the future.
I can't tell you today that I want to live 100%. I would be lying. I've done that long enough.
I can tell you what I want to be better - and that I'm trying everything I can with the support of a wonderful husband, friends, and family. I have a posse of medical practitioners who see my potential and want to help me find the best Simone.
... and this was a raw and hard blog to write- but it's real. And real is what I want. If even one single person reads this and realizes they need help - and they can get it - then exposing my story was worth every vulnerability.
Much love - so very much love.
Much love - so very much love.
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