Wednesday, 30 December 2015


I've been mulling how to write this and what to say.  I met some friends last night, some I had not seen for over 25 years. I enjoyed the evening it was a good laugh.  It was something I could never have done only six months ago.  When you have a brain that continuously thinks of why things are bad one feels that is how others think and feel.   You lose your identity. You have to tell them that the person they knew was a facade, an illusion, created to allow me to survive life. The strange thing about it all is that one does not realise it is an 'Eleanor Rigby' face you have created over many years.  When I had my breakdown and I lost all my false identity, it unnerves you, it causes one's anxiety to increase because you feel you have let those friends down, and you have become insignificant and worthless.

Being worthless and insignificant makes one reclusive and you do not want to see or hear from anyone.  You go into your shell and this is when real problems start to occur, this is when one can die.

Dying becomes something you think about every minute of every day, every type of way, every action is analysed, you wonder whether one can do it and then you realise if you want to get better you have to try and kill yourself. People do not understand how unwell you are when it concerns mental health until you try and kill yourself.  The way the NHS works is too simplistic when it comes to mental health.  They ask the question straight away, do you want to hurt yourself.  However, when you are first there you do not wish to kill yourself.  You want someone to help you the best way they can and the NHS GP's do not. Once a GP establishes you will not kill yourself or hurt yourself, they lose interest and just give you anti-depressants.  As you get worse and more ill, you start to realise that the only way your life will change is to do something drastic.  Make them understand you are sick, well why not commit suicide.  You have lost all hope and had no ability to see a future; you can only see despair and misery.  Then you start to go through the motions of thinking of death. 

Walk in front of a car or train.  Jump off a bridge.  Take an overdose. Slice one's wrists.  Slice one's throat.  The list goes on and on, you think of everything.  I decided if I were going to kill myself (which you have to remember subconsciously I do not want to do), it would be an overdose, take drugs to make you fall asleep and never wake up.  That is what I did. However, once I had taken at least hundred various pills for different reasons. I decided hell I do not want to die. I wanted the NHS to help me.  That is the problem with the NHS; you have to try to kill yourself before they help you.

So I logically decided if I take these drugs in this order I may die or a may survive, I gave myself a 60% chance.  Luckily, for me I won.

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