The past week since I have blogged have been rather difficult, to say the least. On Friday, I admitted to my therapist that I had a plan for suicide that I intended to carry out that evening. I was admitted into an inpatient psychiatric hospital, where I remained until Sunday afternoon.
The hospitalization was one of the most terrible times in my life. There was complete chaos, and no place to hide. I couldn’t attend groups because my anxiety was so high and being in unfamiliar surroundings was so disorienting. My DSB came to visit twice and I must say that truly saved me. He even brought books and magazines so that I would have something to do, that QoB had gathered.
I can’t explain what I am going through right now, other than to say I feel more depressed and anxious than I can remember. This feels worse than any other crash, sharper than any other pain, deeper than any other depression.
I find myself not caring about anything, even though I know I have a lot to be grateful for. That knowledge almost makes me feel worse, making me feel guilty that I don’t care. I wish I did, wish I could.
I will be starting an intensive outpatient program again today. It is the same program that I did back in 2008 that is DBT focused and I am very hopeful that it will bring me back out of this hole I am in, at least partway.
So for now, I can’t drive, can’t have my meds with me, and it seems like someone is always at my side. I know my family and DSB are fearful of what I might do and I wish it didn’t have to be like that, but I can’t blame them.
My irritability level is high and distress tolerance is low. I have been lashing out quite a bit at people that don’t really deserve it and am trying to work on that. I hope that I can continue blogging and getting these feelings out. I know that I at least want to try.
Sometimes, trying is the best you can ask for.