I share again and again how I cannot trust my mind. I can't. It lies. One of the biggest lies that I often play in my mind surrounds feelings of guilt. I was not the only person scarred as a result of my illness and my attempts. I left a string of casualties. I know that it wasn’t intentional and that I have a chemical imbalance… blah, blah, blah. The fact is that as I was hurting others were hurt.
I was in my late 30’s when I first attempted suicide. My son, who was 8 yrs old, was on a trip with his school. I couldn’t afford to go but felt it was too great an opportunity for him to miss so I sent him. This was around the same time that my ex-husband's affair began. He left the house and I missed my son so I took some pills. I called my mom. I somehow felt that if I took those pills I could get my ex-husband’s to help me. He would be more patient with my illness and we would get back on track. Makes no sense, right? So there it was, while seeking to fill a void in my marriage my first blow hit my mom.
My inability to cope with my divorce led my psychiatrist to place me on a more aggressive medication regime. We figured out later that I am medication resistant. I think the med change made things worse. I was in a fog and no longer able to do my job effectively. My principal at the time respected my work from the previous 6 years and did not write me up, and she could’ve. Instead she urged me to go out on leave. Shout out to Ms. Carter for being such a wonderfully caring person! She was my 2nd hit.
The next victim hits closer to home because the victim is my son. He was not at home the weekend that I made my next attempt. That attempt was almost fatal. I spent time in the hospital and a mental health facility in order to save my life. He was in 3rd or 4th grade. I don’t remember. In a very short span of time his parents divorced, we moved in with his grandparents, and his mom got “sick”. And there goes another one injured in the line of duty.
There were of course others wounded. My dad was devastated that he couldn’t get to me in time. Papa was who initially found me along with my mom. My Grandmother (caps intended) was broken that I had gotten to that point. There are more. I just don’t feel like going down the list so I highlight those who I know were impacted by my decision.
In some ways this is probably the hardest blog that I have written because I still hold some guilt. No, I did not intentionally hurt any of these people, but the fact remains that none of the people highlighted will ever be the same and my illness played a part in that. I forgive myself. What I am learning on this journey is that I cannot hide my feelings from myself if I am to get past them. I do know that I cannot hold on to the guilt. I have learned and am working to grow from my past decisions. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, but I no longer beat myself up about it. As I face the guilt that no longer serves me I challenge you to deal with your guilt. It may be one of the hardest things that you do but the freedom that you get when you forgive yourself is worth it. You’re worth it too!
Sidenote: Humor is a type of coping that works for me when dealing with topics that are hard for me. I do not make light of my illness or the decisions that I have made. Mental illness is a weighty matter. Do not take the manner in which I present my story as a dismissal of its seriousness.
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