JeannieT
9-25-05, 01:47 AM
A Story and News I'd Like to Share
As I have recently been informed by Kevin, some members know some of this story, so I apologize if I repeat anything you have already heard. However, I feel I need to share this story with everyone I can. It is a true example that the saying "Good things come to those who wait."
The past years have really been tough for me, Kevin, and my whole family. It seemed my prayers were finally answered when I gave birth to our son, Danny. No one wanted a child more than I, no one was more thankful to have FINALLY been blessed with one. Danny was born 5/2/02, and the joyful event and all time "high" in my life was followed by an extremely downward slide.
My pregnancy and giving birth were very difficult. After giving birth I was plagued by infection, pain, and downright bad luck. My heath became worse and worse, and by the time everything was finally fixed and healed as best as it could be, I found myself in the hospital 6 times with 8 surgeries.
I could not work. I could not even be a proper mother, having to depend on Kevin and my mother to do sometimes the simpliest of tasks that I should have been able to do. Over time, I became sicker, depressed, and had a sense that nothing would ever get better. It seemed as if every bit of news was disappointing. As time passed it became increasingly easier to think nothing would ever go right, and the "darkness" began to set in. I became used to being in pain, disappointed, tired, feeling hopeless, and the thought that nothing would or could get better, regardless of how long I waited.
Six weeks ago, I tried to commit suicide. I took a lot of pills. I had the arsenal in the medicine cabinet to do it, and a slight knowledge of exactly what kind of drugs would kill me. On a Thursday night, after everyone went to bed, I started typing letters to Kevin, my mom, and Danny (for when he was older.) I didn't even realize I had a plan for suicide, but obviously I did, because I just knew everything I had to do. I even left instructions in the letter about my memorial service, what music to play, where to have it, etc. I carried out a plan as if I had drilled for it until I got it perfect. After typing the letters, I calmly went into the bathroom and organized each drug into piles. I smoked a cigarette,and even took a hit of some potent weed I had got from a friend recently. I brushed my teeth, then began to down the piles of pills. After swallowing 132 pills, I calmly went to bed and layed down next to Danny and Kevin to die at exactly 3 AM on a Friday morning.
The next thing I remember is waking up, opening my eyes and seeing Kevin, and feeling the breathing tube down my throat. A nurse came to me and asked if I knew where I was and what I had done, I shook my head yes. I was very groggy, and went back to sleep. Finally, I awakened enough for the nurse to pull out the breathing tube, wondering if I would be able to breathe on my own. No one was there except the nurse, and he asked me why I did what I did. My answer: I was sick of living in pain, being depressed, and dealing with life and disappointments in general. I was only somewhat happy to have survived what I had attempted, and shocked, but somewhat proud, that I had come so close to killing myself. The doctor came in and told me I had "flatlined" twice. The only thing I could really think about was the fact that this person was not me. I thought back through my life and had never known myself to be in such a dark place and sincerely hopeless. I just wanted out of the hospital, and was cleaver enough to convince the shrink to release me into my mother's care.
Once home, nothing was different. I wasn't trying to end my life, but I hated myself, my life, and everything about it. Emotional, moody, irritable, and exhauseted, I was a real bitch to live with. How Kevin, my mother, and Danny were able to live with me, tells you how much they all love me. I was required, as a condition of my release from the hospital, to see a Therapist and a Psychiatrist. The Therapist was great, the Psychiatrist played with my medication, trying to find the right combination that would make me "happy" and heal me. Approx. a month after my suicide attempt, I was forced to enter the hospital for severe depression, and being suicidal. As I was talking to my Therapist, I had said something that made a bell go off and make her realize how serious I was about dying. I had no plans to attempt to kill myself in the near future, but I knew in my mind it was always an option. Worse, if I ever did it again, I would know exactly what to take and how much. Thanks to a quack doc who told me I took the right drug to end my life, just not quite enough. In my mind though, I didn't need help or belong in a hospital. My admitting myself to the hospital (I knew I would be committed if I didn't do so volunterally) was done with much protest. Little did I know that the next three days would help me to heal my mind by myself with a little help from Kevin. The Psychiatrist in the hospital questioned one of the medications I had been on for the past 14 mths. I told Kevin this and he researched the drug. Kevin's research found that the reason for the questions, was that the drug I had been taking could cause suicidal thoughts and psychotic behavior.
The shrinks didn't take me off that drug, called TOPAMAX, I decided to stop taking it. I contacted the doctor who had originally prescribed it, and she told me, "I am glad you had the sense to stop taking Topamax, I cannot believe they didn't take you off of it." She told me these were rare side effects, but that she had a few patients that this had happened to. The doctor also informed me that patient's taking this drug need to be closely monitored for that type of behavior, which I had not been monitored.
I cannot relay to any one reading this how much better I feel off of that drug. I am relieved to know I am not mentally ill or simply crazy. I AM HAPPY TO BE ALIVE! I can deal with things, I have patience, I no longer snap at people or yell as much. Literally, I am a changed person. :bouncy:
:rockon: FINALLY,after a lot of red tape, and a long wait, I received news just yesterday, that told me my application for disability was FULLY FAVORABLE. This, after one denial that claimed I was disabled, but not quite disabled enough to receive these benefits. My appeal had been reviewed and the ruling changed. :cheers: :dance: It will still be 30-90 days before I see any money, the back benefits I am owed since 4/03, and the monthly benefit. What an awsome early Christmas present, and a belated birthday gift! :happy:
I have climbed out of a hole that was so deep I couldn't even see daylight when I looked up. The benefits I (along with everyone who works) had been paying into for years are finally coming due to be. There is hope and sun. Life is good, and although it has its down and cloudy moments, it is worth living to the full extent that I can live it!
:clap: THANK GOD FOR 2ND CHANCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank God for the three most important people in my life, my son, Kevin and my mother. They were with me in the dark, now I can share light with them. :cloud9:
Thank you for letting me share my story. :wave:
As I have recently been informed by Kevin, some members know some of this story, so I apologize if I repeat anything you have already heard. However, I feel I need to share this story with everyone I can. It is a true example that the saying "Good things come to those who wait."
The past years have really been tough for me, Kevin, and my whole family. It seemed my prayers were finally answered when I gave birth to our son, Danny. No one wanted a child more than I, no one was more thankful to have FINALLY been blessed with one. Danny was born 5/2/02, and the joyful event and all time "high" in my life was followed by an extremely downward slide.
My pregnancy and giving birth were very difficult. After giving birth I was plagued by infection, pain, and downright bad luck. My heath became worse and worse, and by the time everything was finally fixed and healed as best as it could be, I found myself in the hospital 6 times with 8 surgeries.
I could not work. I could not even be a proper mother, having to depend on Kevin and my mother to do sometimes the simpliest of tasks that I should have been able to do. Over time, I became sicker, depressed, and had a sense that nothing would ever get better. It seemed as if every bit of news was disappointing. As time passed it became increasingly easier to think nothing would ever go right, and the "darkness" began to set in. I became used to being in pain, disappointed, tired, feeling hopeless, and the thought that nothing would or could get better, regardless of how long I waited.
Six weeks ago, I tried to commit suicide. I took a lot of pills. I had the arsenal in the medicine cabinet to do it, and a slight knowledge of exactly what kind of drugs would kill me. On a Thursday night, after everyone went to bed, I started typing letters to Kevin, my mom, and Danny (for when he was older.) I didn't even realize I had a plan for suicide, but obviously I did, because I just knew everything I had to do. I even left instructions in the letter about my memorial service, what music to play, where to have it, etc. I carried out a plan as if I had drilled for it until I got it perfect. After typing the letters, I calmly went into the bathroom and organized each drug into piles. I smoked a cigarette,and even took a hit of some potent weed I had got from a friend recently. I brushed my teeth, then began to down the piles of pills. After swallowing 132 pills, I calmly went to bed and layed down next to Danny and Kevin to die at exactly 3 AM on a Friday morning.
The next thing I remember is waking up, opening my eyes and seeing Kevin, and feeling the breathing tube down my throat. A nurse came to me and asked if I knew where I was and what I had done, I shook my head yes. I was very groggy, and went back to sleep. Finally, I awakened enough for the nurse to pull out the breathing tube, wondering if I would be able to breathe on my own. No one was there except the nurse, and he asked me why I did what I did. My answer: I was sick of living in pain, being depressed, and dealing with life and disappointments in general. I was only somewhat happy to have survived what I had attempted, and shocked, but somewhat proud, that I had come so close to killing myself. The doctor came in and told me I had "flatlined" twice. The only thing I could really think about was the fact that this person was not me. I thought back through my life and had never known myself to be in such a dark place and sincerely hopeless. I just wanted out of the hospital, and was cleaver enough to convince the shrink to release me into my mother's care.
Once home, nothing was different. I wasn't trying to end my life, but I hated myself, my life, and everything about it. Emotional, moody, irritable, and exhauseted, I was a real bitch to live with. How Kevin, my mother, and Danny were able to live with me, tells you how much they all love me. I was required, as a condition of my release from the hospital, to see a Therapist and a Psychiatrist. The Therapist was great, the Psychiatrist played with my medication, trying to find the right combination that would make me "happy" and heal me. Approx. a month after my suicide attempt, I was forced to enter the hospital for severe depression, and being suicidal. As I was talking to my Therapist, I had said something that made a bell go off and make her realize how serious I was about dying. I had no plans to attempt to kill myself in the near future, but I knew in my mind it was always an option. Worse, if I ever did it again, I would know exactly what to take and how much. Thanks to a quack doc who told me I took the right drug to end my life, just not quite enough. In my mind though, I didn't need help or belong in a hospital. My admitting myself to the hospital (I knew I would be committed if I didn't do so volunterally) was done with much protest. Little did I know that the next three days would help me to heal my mind by myself with a little help from Kevin. The Psychiatrist in the hospital questioned one of the medications I had been on for the past 14 mths. I told Kevin this and he researched the drug. Kevin's research found that the reason for the questions, was that the drug I had been taking could cause suicidal thoughts and psychotic behavior.
The shrinks didn't take me off that drug, called TOPAMAX, I decided to stop taking it. I contacted the doctor who had originally prescribed it, and she told me, "I am glad you had the sense to stop taking Topamax, I cannot believe they didn't take you off of it." She told me these were rare side effects, but that she had a few patients that this had happened to. The doctor also informed me that patient's taking this drug need to be closely monitored for that type of behavior, which I had not been monitored.
I cannot relay to any one reading this how much better I feel off of that drug. I am relieved to know I am not mentally ill or simply crazy. I AM HAPPY TO BE ALIVE! I can deal with things, I have patience, I no longer snap at people or yell as much. Literally, I am a changed person. :bouncy:
:rockon: FINALLY,after a lot of red tape, and a long wait, I received news just yesterday, that told me my application for disability was FULLY FAVORABLE. This, after one denial that claimed I was disabled, but not quite disabled enough to receive these benefits. My appeal had been reviewed and the ruling changed. :cheers: :dance: It will still be 30-90 days before I see any money, the back benefits I am owed since 4/03, and the monthly benefit. What an awsome early Christmas present, and a belated birthday gift! :happy:
I have climbed out of a hole that was so deep I couldn't even see daylight when I looked up. The benefits I (along with everyone who works) had been paying into for years are finally coming due to be. There is hope and sun. Life is good, and although it has its down and cloudy moments, it is worth living to the full extent that I can live it!
:clap: THANK GOD FOR 2ND CHANCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank God for the three most important people in my life, my son, Kevin and my mother. They were with me in the dark, now I can share light with them. :cloud9:
Thank you for letting me share my story. :wave: