My side of the story - My Truth...

I am writing this out so that I always remember how it happened, and to explain how it happen to others.  I don’t want history to repeat itself, I never want these events to happen again.  So this is my story, it is not going to be easy to read and I apologize for that but I have made a promise to be honest about my feelings and not hide them because that is partly how I got into this mess in the first place.  So I am going to start at the beginning and not hold anything back.

This is the story of how and why I was admitted to Forestview – a psychiatric hospital.

My heart was broken on Christmas Eve.  The thing is, my heart didn’t just break that night, my whole world fell apart and I couldn’t see a reason to live anymore.   I felt like I had lost everything.  I had lost not only my best friend but the man who I was going to have a family with.   Our futures had become so intertwined that I could see a future without him any more – so like I said not only was my heart broken that night, but I died that night.  You might think I am being over dramatic in that statement, so let me explain:  

My ex and I had been best friends for almost 10 years.  We had dated for 2 years and then broken up for one year.  I barely survived that first break-up.  I was so in love with him and he started dating a girl the same weekend he broke up with me.  It broke my heart into a thousand pieces and for months I barely did anything other than cry.  When we started talking about getting back together again I told him straight out – Do not get back together with me unless you are sure I am “The One” for you, because I don’t think I could survive you rejecting me again.  He agreed and we didn’t get back together for another 6 months after that conversation, and at that time I was sure we never would.  Until one night when he returned from a family trip and he told me he wanted to join the Air Force. I told him I would miss him and he looked at me and said, you are coming with me.  I stared at him and said – I am? And he said:  Yes, I am not going anywhere in this world without you.  At this point we got back together.

He told me that once his paper work was accepted and he finished boot camp we would elope.  Then I would go with him where ever he was stationed and we could start our family.  I told him that with that plan I would have to stop my life in a sense.  I would have to stop going to school because we might leave at any time, and I would have to stop applying for government jobs as if I was hired I would have to quit very quickly and that would look bad on my resume.  He agreed saying he would make it up to me and promised me that he would be there for me and for “us” forever.  So my life stopped and everything I did from that point forward, for the next 18 months or so, was no long to improve my future rather it was for our future.  I helped him with all his military paperwork.  Either I helped him fill it out by giving answers or looking up phone numbers or just filling it out for him entirely.  I also drove him to appointments, made sure he met deadlines, and spent large amounts of money supporting him as he couldn’t find a job during this time.  I had no problems doing all these things and I never complained. I loved him and everything I was doing was for our family, because that is what he promised me.   I did all this and more.  Which is why you can see I was not exaggerating when I said I felt as if my life was over, he was my life.  I had made his future our future and now that was gone.  

I felt hopeless and worthless.  I felt all my emotions crash and burn, leaving a pile of ashes were my heart and soul used to be.  I did die that night.  I continued to walk and talk but I felt nothing.  I had nothing. I was completely alone and abandoned.

He was the love of my life, the man I wanted more than anything to be the father of my children and he just left after he promised he would be with me forever.  I couldn’t see a chance of ever having kids after that, and my childhood dream, was to be a mother. I had given him his dream and at the same time he took mine away.  I felt like I could never love anyone the way I loved him, I couldn’t go on.  I decided at that point I would kill myself; I just didn’t have a plan yet.

As the time passed I began to work on my plan trying to figure out where and how.  The first step of my plan was that I refused to take my life in my parent’s house so I needed to find a location. So I decided I would kill myself at a hotel.  I was going to wait until I had been at current job for 2 years so my life insurance policy would pay out to my parents.  I knew they would be upset at my death and that the money would help them.  Having made part of my plan set I figured I would leave the “how” until later.  Having a plan set into motion gave me some comfort.  I knew that the pain I was feeling would end, so that helped me to go on day by day – knowing there was a way out.  In fact, after reaching that decision, a lot of friends commented on how my mood had improved.  They went on about how proud they were of me for finally seeing the bright side of the break up and/or getting over it – I never told anyone of my plan because I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of it or be upset with my decision.  Also, part of me hoped in that 2 year time frame I would change my mind, and then no one would have to know that I was planning all of this.

Then there was a week at work where I started to have stomach pains.  It was very annoying and frustrating.  I didn’t know why I was in pain and that made me even more depressed because not only was I sad all the time I was now in physical pain on top of my emotional pain.  I just couldn’t face work, I couldn’t face anyone.   I was crying all the time and just massively depressed.  That was when I realized I could wait two years.  I knew I was going to slash my wrists or down a whole bottle of Vicodin because I was just done with this world.  I got very scared because I knew I was going to kill myself; this was no longer a passing thought to comfort me, it was a reality.  That is when I went to the doctor’s office and told them I was suicidal and needed help.  They instantly told me to go to Forestview, a psychiatric hospital.  Luckily I had 2 friends who forced me to go and be honest about how I was feeling.  So I checked myself in.  Once I was there I was terrified.  The realization of what I was about to do sank in and I cried for about 12 hours straight.  I saw the psychiatrist and we talked and he told me that my medications were all wrong for me, that the break-up triggered chemicals in my brain that threw off my system showing exactly how wrong the meds were for me.  He said once I had the correct medication I would still be sad over the break-up but I would no longer be suicidal.  He was right.  24 hours after on my new meds I felt normal again.  No longer feeling hopeless and I could see that there was a future again.  Still very depressed and very uncertain about the future, however, I no longer wanted to take my own life.

After 1 week as a full time patient at the hospital and another week just as a partial patient (I was there from 9 am – 3pm in group therapy sessions) I was released.  I am nowhere near healed; I still have a lot of work to do.  I am still afraid I will never have children, or find another partner I can love as I loved my ex, but I want to continue living.  I want to see where the path leads.  This is my story; my truth.  I am sorry if it was hard to read – but like I said – no more lies.