The worst day in months (TRIGGER ALERT)

I cannot be held responsible if reading this post triggers you in any way. After all – I warned you in the title!

Ive been debating back and forth whether or not I would actually write about what happened. I cannot stop going over it in my mind. Maybe writing about it will help.  I wish I could say the emotions are still raw… but well … meds…

First off – I have a horrendous sinus infection thing. It started as a cough, turned into no voice and now that I have my voice back my sinus is so swollen that my head feels like a giant pressurized balloon that is ready to pop.  So please excuse any run-on-sentences, grammatical errors and spelling mistakes that the spell check didn’t get.

This all happened Tuesday night.

The meds I am on seem to have three main side effects for me. Lack of appetite. Weight gain. Numbing of all emotional responses. Well not all. Anxiety and some depression still manage to get through. But no anger, no sadness, no real joy or happiness either – but I figure the numb has to help somewhat. (My previous posts were mostly anxiety driven and a statement of the facts. OK. Maybe my emotions are not as totally shut off as I would like to believe – but seriously – when I am in the situation I turn off and don’t have any response).

During the issues the last little bit – while they are actually happening I don’t actually break down. I don’t get mad. I  don’t really do much but try and not zone out. It is not healthy, but I think it has kept me sane for the most part lately.

Then I got sick.

Tuesday night. I have taken my regular meds, and a dose of NyQuil. I am sick – wanting to sleep and hoping the NyQuil will do its job. Instead I stare at the wall for 2 hours. Wishing to go to sleep. Trying to shut my brain off. Trying not to relive and replay every interaction for the last few months over and over. No go. I just cannot seem to shut off my brain and let the NyQuil do its magic.

That’s when it happens. I start to cry. Just a little bit at first. Small enough that I thought it would pass, I would fall asleep and it would all just be a bad memory in the morning. But something went wrong. I don’t know what thought or memory triggered it – but I just started to sob. Big, horrible, drooling, snot filled sobs. My whole body was heaving with the force of my tears.

It was like every thing i worried about or had been anxious about – decided to come to the surface and demand attention. Every fear. Every argument with J. Every perceived failure, every BPD trigger – EVERYTHING. Nothing seemed to stop it.

I was lost. Overwhelmed by months worth of emotional release I was a mess. I sat on the edge of my bed, rocking myself while I sobbed. Feeling such a sense of loneliness. I had no clue where to turn.

I called J’s cell. Went straight to voice mail.

I started to really freak out and panic. I knew that I wasn’t being logical – things couldn’t really be that overwhelming. I just needed to figure out how to calm down. I tried every trick I could remember from what I had done in the DBT so far. Each thing that didn’t calm me down just made everything worse.

Now I was failing at not only every other thing, but at this – my newest skills set – as well.

I knew talking xanax or something would help. The issue was at this point I didn’t trust myself not to take too many.

I called J again. Voice mail.

I started to look for my cut tool. By this time I was sobbing so uncontrollably that I could barely see and was having trouble breathing. This of course sent my anxiety and meltdown spiraling higher and higher.

I couldn’t find my tool.

I purposefully went into the kitchen and got a paring knife. I dragged it across my leg. Nothing happened. I dug my fingernails into my arms, my thighs, scraping them down  hoping that the non- skin breaking pain would work. The knife still didn’t do more then a few light cuts. Not anything that calmed me, or made the pain better.

I called J again. Voice mail.

By this time it is 230 in the morning. I had been sobbing, spiraling, freaking out for about 2.5 hours. I didn’t know how to stop. I sent J a text that said only one two words. Help me.I then went back into the kitchen and rooted around in the drawer for a better knife. I didn’t trust myself not to cut, slash or maim with a bigger knife. Instead I chose a steak knife. Serrated but still fairly sharp.

I returned to my bedroom and proceeded to slice my leg over and over again. Watching the blood well up was cathartic. It brought me down enough to know that if I didn’t connect with someone I was going to have to call 911. I felt that out of control.

With 30-40 cuts on my leg ranging from long to short, shallow to deep – with bruising and smearing already happening from me punching my leg in despair when a cut didn’t help – I called my mom.

I don’t like to call my mom when I am upset. She gets too emotionally upset because she cannot help. She lives in BC. I live in Saskatchewan. I have no family at all here. The ONLY reason I am in this province, this city is because of J. Yes I have S in Regina – but she would understand if I left.

My mom was my safety. She was able to breach through the fear and panic. It was her voice that helped me put down the knife and stop cutting. Her admissions of her love for me, her unwavering support and repeated chant of “It gets better. I know it sucks right now but it gets better”. The knowledge that she cared and didn’t want to push me away because I was broken in two at the moment helped me pull the pieces back together.

We talked for quite a while. Mostly stuff that was easy to talk about as I slowly stopped crying. Both of us knew if we talked about any of the issues going on it would have set me off again.

She made the suggestion that I play a video game – any game – where I could kill things. Take out my feelings on meaningless pixels. Make sure it was bloody and unmerciful – but to keep playing until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Use it as a distraction.

I started playing while she was still on the phone and silent tears were still rolling down my face. When we finally decided to stop talking it was with the generalized feeling from my end of “I’m going to hurt these motherfuckers real good”.

I eventually fell asleep around 5 am. The sun was up and every light in my place was on. I made it through the night. I’m still here. Only mildly cut up. Still sicker then a dog.

I think this whole thing has sent me into a manic swing though. I haven’t been sleeping since. Ive spent money I don’t have on junk. I’m binge eating. Yet I cannot bring myself to care too much. I am not headed back down that rabbit hole again.

Good enough for me.

* Side note – J did eventually call. About 3/4 of the way through me talking with my mom. He was very groggy, said his phone wasn’t working right. He asked if I was OK, and why I was having an issue. What had set it off. I told him I was fine and thanks for getting back to me. That things were going to be moderately fine. (all this was said while trying not to let him know I was crying still) He did eventually call though. That counts for something.

** I didn’t tell my mom about cutting, or the knife. I told her about how out of control I felt and how I didn’t trust myself to not take more pills then I needed. I should have told her – but then she probably would have called the hospital… and who would I get to look after my animals if I was in the crazy ward? Honest to god. That was my reasoning for not telling her.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Keaven Neely
    Jul 06, 2012 @ 11:44:32

    I’m so sorry. I had a meltdown too this past week… Actually last Saturday night. I woke hubby up in the bed next to him and told him I had to hurt myself. Right then and to stop me. I had taken TOO many meds also (not enough to od or anything, but enough to make me sleep HARD once they kicked in.) Hubs was groggy also and was not helping at all. (WTF babe… If you’re not there when things like this happen, then what are you here for?) Anyways, I ended up throwing myself down the stairs… Not smart. I hurt my shoulder… not too bad, just bruised. But it did hurt. Then in a fit I hit my head and busted it a bit… No real bad… just a small wound on top. A tiny scab I didn’t know was there til Wednesday when I accidentally scratched it. You need to let it out though. There are others of us out there struggling and trying hard to not lose it. You’re going to at some point though, it’s inevitable ya know? You just gotta pick back up and keep trying. I hope youre doing okay now. If you ever need to talk, just let me know. I can even give you my number if you want. I’m always up. :/

    Reply

    • alwayschangeling
      Jul 22, 2012 @ 23:03:14

      Thank you soo much Keaven. I have read your comment over and over since you posted it. Each time it made me feel better knowing there was someone there.

      Thank you for caring. It really helps.

      I’ll keep your offer of support and phone calls in mind. I may need it in the next little bit. :S

      Reply

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