When You Can't Deal with Your New Life

Many of you are aware that I have had quite a difficult week. I overdosed (again) on Monday last week and posted a goodbye message to my Facebook friends. I would have been successful except for my post and my action-taking friends. So instead of just going to sleep and never waking up, the cops showed up, followed by an ambulance, and I spent the night in the hospital. When I came home on Tuesday, I slept most of the day, and on Wednesday I was right back to desperate. I had taken a very sharp knife, which I stashed in my room, and even though my mom kept asking me about it, I lied and said I had no idea where it was. That night, after my mother went to sleep, I went to the bathroom, locked the door, and held the knife to my throat. It was my plan to simply slit a few major veins, climb into the bathtub, and eventually pass out.

But when it came to it, I couldn't do it. And I tried several different ways to just get over myself and do what I had planned to do. Yet, those of you who have been paying attention, well you are aware that I'm not really into pain, and it hurt when I tried to shove the knife into my neck. It hurt, like, a lot. So ultimately I couldn't do it. At that point, honestly, I felt like the biggest failure ever, believe it or not. I mean, when you reach the point where you are determined to kill yourself but can't ultimately do it, yeah. It feels like failure. So I lay in my bed afterwards and thought about taking my car and plunging into the river. It was late at night, so minimal (if any) witnesses would be around, and my car would submerge with me in it long before emergency services could help me.

However, I didn't do that either. Instead I started to read and respond to all of the outreach I had received via Facebook. I posted an update saying that I was okay and thanked those who had taken action because they saved my life. I also explained that what I go through everyday in my new life is more than difficult without friends (which, funny enough, was the subject of my last post in this blog, but by coincidence only). Most of you who are part of my Facebook network saw the post, and the outpouring of support I received was almost overwhelming...and definitely a big surprise. I haven't had that many people reach out and want to make plans with me for years. To be honest, the thought of people from all over Maine (and the country for that matter) wanting to show their support and working to make plans with me...that alone has made me stronger (which was another blog post, again coincidentally). And honestly, I am soooo looking forward to seeing those of you who have made plans with me.

Of course I recognize that my feeling good right now is precarious. I still have moments (some of them lasting for hours) where the pain is so great that it starts to screw with my thinking. It creates thoughts of pure desperation to make this pain stop in any way possible, including ending my life. Yet, I know that I can't think that way, even in the midst of those desperate moments. I know that I want have a future, and I will simply have to make due with submitting to the pain I have and the many physical limitations that I live with to have a good life.

My current future includes a niece on the way...Abbey...who should arrive in September. I have plans to finish my masters at/around the end of 2018. And finally, I am starting to design and create a business plan for a complex business network that is almost all non-profit. When I think about what could be accomplished by this organization I am designing, I truly think it can and will make a difference in the world; plus, I already have people willing to help (which is pretty cool). So I just have to stick with my plan and stay focused on these amazing things that are in my immediate future. 

With this paradigm-shifting focus to positive thinking--which is particularly important while I am confronted with horrible pain and the mental stress it causes me--in lieu of getting lost in the negative thinking that so easily overcomes me at this point, I am truly hopeful that I am on a different path today than I have been thus far in all (almost) 7 years of this experience. I sincerely hope I can hold onto this new way of coping. And I think that socialization is one of the keys to all of this.

I have no illusions that this shift from the negative to the positive will be easy, particularly in the heat of the moment when I am feeling massive pain and desperation. However, I also know that I am going to practice. Hard. And even though sometimes I might find myself falling into the negative, that's okay, so long as I find my way back to focusing on the positive in the end. Take this morning for example. I am reading the book "When Bad Things Happen to Good People", and I gotta say its tough to read when you're coming from my position. I mean, it took me a few days just to admit that I belonged to the group "good people" so that I could continue reading. And again this morning I reached a point where I just chucked my kindle away from me because I couldn't handle any more of what the author was saying. I was starting to head down that negative thinking pathway, and I knew it, so I forced myself to put on some music that I knew always put me in a good mood. And soon enough I was singing along and even dancing (if one can call it that), and that negative crap was gone...replaced with positive thinking. I call that progress.

One last thing before I end this. Many of you have said that you should have been a better friend to me. Let me crush that thinking right now. You all have lives to live, and you're all busy. None of this is anyone's fault. Plus, I have been so reluctant to reach out that I am probably on the edge of being officially deemed agoraphobic. In fact, I will admit that I am a little overwhelmed to go from having no plans except for doctor appointments to having social plans with people I care about. But its overwhelming in a good way and I know that with just a little push, I can do it. After all, that's the mantra I've lived by all my life: I can do anything if I try hard enough. And it's worked so far.

And for those of you who don't know the backstory, I have a few links. Years ago I started a blog where I explained exactly what happened in my accident, etc.: Why I Survived. After hitting a few rough patches, I started a sequel to my first: Surviving the Seemingly Survivable, but only made it to 4 posts until I once again hit another wall. If you are interested in reading them, I suggest you start from the first post (which is available through the links on the side by date). That's where you can find the backstory that inspired me to write this blog, and this time I am putting myself out there much more than I ever have because I figure, why not? Anyway...until next time...thanks for reading.

Friends

Since my last post I have continued to build my inner strength and am trying my best to stay on a positive path, with the exception of the water aerobics. I haven't quite been able to work myself into a regular schedule with those classes, yet, it is still my goal to do so.

This particular post I want to talk about my old life versus new, in particular, friends. You see, prior to my accident, I always had a lot of friends. Both male and female, and I never felt alone really. However, last night as I walked to the car after a movie, I had a moment of clarity. I thought hard and deep about this epiphany, and I am sad to say that I think I'm right about this: when it comes to the friends I have now, I can think of only 4 people (this is disregarding Facebook, of course, because everyone there has like 150+ friends) that are still friends with me...and only one of them lives in my state. 

I know that sounds like I am feeling sorry for myself and maybe I am, but its a hard smack in the face when you suddenly realize that almost all of your best friends aren't there anymore. More so they won't even talk to you when you reach out to them. And this is true. The people who were my best friends for decades haven't spoken to me (without giving me a reason why either...which naturally makes me insane trying to think of what I could have done) for about 4.5 years now.

Did they decide I wasn't worth it after seeing me so disabled? I can't imagine that it's true, but I don't know for sure. Is it because I am a mean person? I don't think I was/am, but again, I don't know for sure. I do know that people come in and out of your life as you grow, so perhaps it is some form of that, but that doesn't explain why they have completely shut me out of their lives.

I guess this is going to be yet another part of my mourning process with this accident crap. Just another thing to have to get over. Yet, I have to say, I'm lonely without my friends. I miss them terribly. I see things or hear things that instinctively make me pick up my phone to tell them, only to remember that they aren't there anymore. What did I do?

I guess the point I am learning and making in this post is that we all should be thankful for our friends. They are a true blessing (even if sometimes they annoy you), and you will surely regret it if you lose them. I know this first hand. So celebrate them...if not for yourself then for me.

Lastly, an update on the path to the neurosurgeon. I went on May 6th to see the pain management clinic doctor--a very nice man--but I gotta say that he didn't make me feel at all comforted that I would be able to get better. So yes, in the end I was pretty hopeless that I was ever going to feel better.

The next step, according to this doctor, is for me to meet with a psychologist that specializes in pain management. Why, you ask? I haven't the slightest idea. In my mind this is a bogus step in the process that not only delays the possibility of me feeling better, but it's complete hokum. What the heck does a psychologist have to do with any of this? I mean, really. It's weird that I have to do this.

I really had hoped that this procedure would already be scheduled by now...perhaps taking place in the middle of June...but instead I have to wait to meet with this psychologist on June 8th to talk about God-knows-what. At this rate I am on track to have this procedure at the end of the year, if at all. Yes, it's awesome news, I know (as my keyboard drips with sarcasm).

At this point I am at a juxtaposition between being really lost, lonely, hopeless, and hopeful. It is, I admit, a difficult place to be. I don't know what else to do except keep on keeping on. Like Beyonce says in her song, Freedom: "Imma keep running 'cause a winner don't quit on themself". (Yes, the grammer is clearly bad, but it's powerful in the song) Until next time...