New Beginning (cont'd)

So it's 2:33am, yet I can't get my head to stop spinning in circles. I'm in the middle of a "rough patch", and am in a writing mode therefore I figured I would continue with my story. As I was saying in my previous post, It wasn't a possibility, but a matter of when. With my fourth attempt, I was sent to a psychiatric hospital, but managed to lie my way out in less than two days. It was around this time that I began conversing with my ex (the one in which it was a toxic relationship and by toxic I also mean abusive) again. I had been talking to her on and off, but it became more and more frequent. I missed her. Yet at the same time I was spiraling downwards deeper than I'd ever been and was reaching a point in my alcoholism in which my tolerance was rising higher than ever before. I would drink and drink and drink, and when I didn't get the effect I wanted, it pissed me off and threw me in a downward spiral. I was often in my own world...my world of emptiness and loneliness. I could be in a bar surrounded by hundreds, yet still feel completely alone. I was miserable. I kept drinking. By December, I was frequenting the bars every weekend and would try to sneak in beer during the week as well when I got off work. But mainly weekends were my downfall. One morning I had what my sponsor calls my "moment of clarity". The night before my cousins came into town, who brought their two kids (my grand cousins) who were 10 and 3. They loved me. And I promised myself I wouldn't go out that night. But then I got a phone call from a friend inviting me to go downtown and boom. No hesitation, no thinking necessary-- I was there. I went out and proceeded to get as drunk as my wallet would allow me to. After stumbling into bed at 3am, I was awakened by my cousins at 8:30am. They wanted me to get up and play with them. So I got up and had the realization that I was STILL drunk. I was dizzy and felt off balance. I tried to hide it well but am still not sure if it worked or not. The next day, I walked two miles to a gas station, where my ex picked me up and took me to my first AA meeting for the 2nd time around. (I had to walk from my house, since my parents did not know about my contact with my ex nor would they have approved-- after all the damage that was caused to the relationship between my family and I had stemmed from that relationship and that particular woman. By this I mean she was not welcome anywhere near my parents house.) When I got home, I was not greeted with a warm welcome. They knew it was her that had taken me to the meeting and at that point in time didn't believe that I needed to go to AA, they simply thought I just wanted to get back together with her. Which, at the time, was part of the reason I went back to AA. In the week following, I ended up getting in a fight with my parents regarding my contact with my ex and one morning I just packed my bag full of clothes and tolietries and left. Just walked out on my parents (yet again). I went to an AA meeting then frantically tried to find a place to stay that night. I found one but only for that night. The next day I miraculously found a place to live. It was a friend of my ex's and she let me rent a room from her. However, I was without a car. So this meant missing a couple nights of work until I managed to convince a co-worker to take me to and from work as he lived right by where I was living. And so it began. Three months of living HELL. Emotionally I was a wreck. Mentally, I was beyond a wreck. Financially I was making barely 400 dollars a month. By the time I paid my bills I was lucky to have 50 dollars to live on for 2 weeks at a time. And some of that went towards gas money for people giving me rides places. In the meantime, my ex and I tried to get back together. Then she broke up with me, telling me she wanted to get back together with her ex-girlfriend. I was crushed. We didn't talk for a couple weeks. Then she managed to snatch me back and I fell into her trap once again. In February we got back together again, yet after only a week, she broke up with me again. She claimed that she "needed time to be on her own", that she "needed to learn to be single for awhile." Shortly thereafter I found out she was back with her ex. She had managed to con me again. I lost it. When I got back together with her the second time, I had called my parents and told them I was back together with her and they freaked out. (They couldn't stand by and just watch her hurt me.) I met with them and they gave me all of my medications and it seemed unnecessary to say the obvious-- that as long as I was involved with her, I wasn't to be involved with my parents. So now, I had nothing and nobody. I hated myself. I hated that I had hurt my family. I hated myself for going back to her and letting her break my heart. I hated myself for many reasons. I couldn't stand to be in my own skin. It was pure agony. For the next 2 weeks I would sleep until it was time to get up for my daily AA meeting, get ready, go to the meeting then go back home and sleep until 7:30pm. I'd get up and eat something, then go to work for 4 hours then go back to bed and so the pattern continued. Suicide was always on my mind. I was constantly thinking of ways to do it. What way would work. What way would be the easiest. I was consantly brainstorming, all the while I was lying to both my N.P. and counselor and everyone else around me. I tried to hide it but it got harder and harder. On March 1st, 2009 I had it planned. I was going to O.D. on every one of my medications (which I had a LOT of), then proceed to go to work and let the rest play itself out. However, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up when my ride got there. I was so mad at myself. I went to work, did my job and went back home and straight to bed. I woke up the next day (March 2nd)d, went to the meeting then right back to bed. But I kept waking up. I kept thinking to myself...if I just take all these pills, it'll end. The pain will be gone forever. I won't have to hurt anyone else. I got out of bed but stayed in my room (which was in the basement-- which was an area that my roommate hardly ever went down to) in hopes that my rooommate would think I was gone. I got out my medicine and overdosed on around 30 or 40 of one medicine as well as 20 or 30 of another pill. Then my heart sank. I ran out of water. If I left my room, she'd hear me. But I had many more pills to take. However, I wasn't willing to take the risk that my roommate would hear me and come downstairs and ruin it all. I hoped that what I had taken would do the trick and with an oddly calm feeling, I crawled into my bed and just went to sleep. This next part is all told to me by my roommate. I had taken the pills at 7pm. Around 7:45, my roommate noticed I hadn't come upstairs for work and she said she didn't have a good feeling about it. So she came down to check on me. She said she asked me if I was going to work, but I just mumbled that I was just going to sleep. She left me alone, but still didn't have a good feeling so she went back down to check on me. However, this time, she realized something was off. I was unresponsive and the couple of times I came to I was completely incoherent. She was a former psych nurse, so she checked my blood pressure and pulse. Oddly enough, they were fairly normal. So she left me be. But she couldn't shake that bad feeling, so she came and checked it again and was alarmed to find that my blood pressure and pulse were bottoming out. I was going downhill and fast. She called 911 and I was rushed to the hospital. I was unresponsive and I'm not sure what they did to me but I was kept overnight in ICU so they could keep a close eye on me. The next day they moved me to a regular hospital room and that night I was taken to a psychiatric hospital. The first night I was there, what they call a "DE"-- Designated Examiner, came to talk to me. Had I known what her job was, I would've changed my story. But I had no idea. So I spilled everything. I told her I hated my life, that I didn't want to live anymore. How I was pissed that my roommate "saved" me. That I just wanted to die and end all of the pain. Later I found out her job was to determine whether or not I needed to be placed on a further hold (as the police had put me on a 24 hour hold) and later if I needed to go to court to decide whether or not I should be committed to the dept. of health and welfare. And put me on a hold she did. On March 10th, I was taken to court (in handcuffs while escorted by two policemen in the back of a police car) and was committed to the dept. of health and welfare for up to a year. I was to go to the State Psychiatric Hospital. Much to my dismay I was held at the current facility for a month before they finally shipped me to state. Half the stay I was placed on one-on-one observation in which I was shadowed by someone 24-7 because I kept getting caught with things I could use to hurt myself. I wasn't to be trusted. I was willing to try anything to end it. FInally on March 31st I was taken to the State Hospital. I ended up being there for a LONG six months. It was the most trying and hardest time of my life.


Not to cut off the story, but it's now 3:20am and I need to at least TRY to sleep. I shall continue with my story soon. Again, this is all real events that have happened in my life and if you're this far, you'll keep reading further.