240mg Nitrazapam (very strong benzo)
200mg Amitriptyline
400mg Escitalopram
5000mg Lamotrigine
Will this kill me? If not, what will it do. I am fucking DONE With life.
Please don't suggest SN as I am not interested in this. I have had SN stopped at customs so that isn't going to happen now is it. It's a fucking joke. I'm going to have to resort to jumping at this rate
Hello,
I just wanted to give you an insight into my situation. After decades (I'm 37) of feeling like I wanted to die, feeling like I was on borrowed time I planned for my end.
I'm also very OCD, so I planned to the Nth degree. I planned on going on a Friday night in November 2018.
The week before I wiped my devices, I changed my mobile number (and only gave new number to 1 family member) got extra medications, wrote a will, had the car valeted abs removed my effects etc. I even got my spare key from a family member so she couldn't enter my apartment.
My choice was a massive overdose of Zolpidem (I thinks it's Ambiem is USA) and Diphenhydramine in total I had stock piled about 2500mg of each.
On that Friday I took my mother shopping, quietly thinking this would be the last time she saw me. I bought shopping for myself so it didn't look weird.
When I got home I binned the shopping, spent some time getting my keys in order, writing a note to the police (thinking they'd be the one to find me) I got all the tablets about of the blister packs and rather than necking them, I though I'd let them all dissolve in some nice a cranberry juice - I put the juice in the fridge to dissolve the tablets and set myself a time of 10:00pm.
For the rest of the evening I spent time with my cat and watching TV.
I know this will sound strange, but I had cleaned my apartment from top to bottom and I didn't want to mess my bed up, so I planned to use a spare duvet put it on the floor of my bathroom and lock myself in there.
I also as a fail safe bough some parcel tape, to tape a see through bag (about the size of a 50 litre bin bag) around my neck after I had drunk my juice and when I felt the medication taking effect. My thought being the drugs would render me on-conscious and I would suffocate in my sleep.
Anyway at 09:50 I locked my car in the living room left extra food in his bowl and extra water to last a few days (both rooms are open plan) and I told him I was sorry to let him down.
I went to the bathroom with my cold juice and pinched my nose and drank it down. It tasted fowl and I immediately vomited a little bit but most of it went down. Then I thought I'd give it time to take effect before I put a bag over my head.
Tge next thing I remember is waking up feeling like crap on my hallway floor, all my feet were cut, blood all over the floor and I was paralysed below the waist so I had to drag myself around my apartment by my arms. I thought it was Saturday morning, but actually it was the Sunday morning, a day when I'd get a call from my mother.
I thought I'd just need to move about a bit to get things going (I'd obviously been immobile for over (over 24 hours).
About 6 hours later I knew I'd have to phone for an ambulance and I knew I'd have to tell them why I couldn't walk.
Paramedics came, I found them quite rude as when I told them what I'd done and how much I had taken they simply said 'you didn't take that because you'd be dead'
Anyway I ended up in hospital completely bedridden, catheterised on a drip and thoroughly pissed off. What made it worse is that I could even walk out.
after nearly a week of been in hospital in the early hours of the following Friday I started to have a really rattley chest, every breath I took was difficult and I was coughing up blood.
I didn't think it was anything so I left it and as the ward was quiet in the night with just a young girl on I didn't want to cause a fuss.
A nurse then came around to do my obs and found my oxygen levels were dropping and then she noticed the blood in a bowl beside my bed and asked 'how longs that been going on'
The next thing I knew I was on oxygen and an arrangement had been made to transfer me to the intensive care unit. What I didn't know then was that I had pneumonia.
When I arrived at ICU the nurses must of gated me as all I heard was 'he's attention seeking, is just send him home with the police' bear in mind that up until that point I have never been admitted to hospital, never discussed my depression with anyone or any doctor. I felt really uncomfortable. I asked the consultant to let me go home but he refused.
Shortly after I was put on non-invasive ventilation which is a tight fitting mask with strong high flow oxygen (like a string wind in my face). I felt judged but medically I felt just like I had to flu.
I asked if I could have a drink as the mask made me really dry and they made me wait but I had a few drinks. Meanwhile hearing these nurses chat crap about me. Ordinarily I'm the type of person who calls a spade a spade and I will defend myself. But in that situation I felt I'd lost the moral high ground so I kept my mouth shut.
my first night in ICU I didn't sleep at all. The following day again in the early hours I suddenly felt like vomiting. I'd only had fluid and nothing to eat for days (I refused to do my business in the bed on the ward, but I drink as I had the catheter). However when I took the mask off on the Saturday morning (unlike the Friday) I found I couldn't breath without the mask, it's hard to explain but you can imagine been in a room and feeling like there was no oxygen. So in panic I gasped at the mask but because I still needed to be sick I couldn't keep it on and because I was panicking I couldn't re attach the mask securely anyway. The next thing I remember is lots of doctors in my room and I was sedated and placed on full life support.
Apparently my mother said when she next saw me she didn't recognise me as I was on a ventilator, dialysis (as kidneys had also packed up) and both arms, hands, legs and feet has swelled up massively (I've always been stock thin). I vaguely remember my feet looking big at the bottom of my bed.
I also remember waking up and trying to talk to my mother as she was stood over my bed but I was still on the ventilator so I I made up my own sign language (which she understood) to tell her I loved her.
I was given 50-50 and my mother was told that even if I did recover I'd need kidney dialysis a few times a week as an outpatient. My mother told the docs I wouldn't like that was I am good at hiding my illnesses (I have various and have had to give up work).
Anyway, I was sedated for several days apparently and when the doctors finally decided to wake me up properly I wasn't breathing on my own, so they kept having to ventilate me.
In the end the said they need to perform a tracheotomy which my mother told them de defo won't like that.
Fortunately at the last opportunity I started to breathe on my own and I didn't need that. My kidneys also recovered and there was no mention of dialysis again.
One thing I did have though was foot drop, I've never found out why I got it, but I assume it was from when my legs had swollen up.
I stayed in intensive care for about a week when I was stepped down into a normal ward. One thing I also had from the moment I was woken up until almost the day I left hospital was delirium. I though I was a murderer a pedophile , I thought I'd even stolen a car from the hospital car park and killed a family (I couldn't even walk so how TF could I drive) I should also make clear I've never broken the law, never been in trouble with the police so the fact I though I was these bad things worried me, and I can only put it down to watching a lot of crime documentaries in the weeks leading up to my attempt (I like docs and history).
To this day I still have the foot drop but it has recovered enough so I can drive my car. I had to get my cat back as he'd been adopted to a cat rescue place as my mother thought i was going to die.
I eventually hit him back on January 1 2019, I won't say his name as it was distinctive and may give my identity away, but he too had lost weight (so had I about 3 stone). He haven't settled for his new owner (who else would give their cat refrigerated water, ice cubes, top food, separate bowls for wet end dry, even napkins under his bowl - and he wouldn't eat his food unless he had a napkin). He soon put his weight on though and I tried to believe I had survived everything for a reason, so I took it a day at a time, I had daily visits from community mental health, which was a waste of time as I'm not talkative about my feelings and I felt patronised (I'm not stupid and in my career I was a senior manager) in the end I told them it'd be better if they just left me alone.
Unfortunately, this year has been a nightmare. My mother was moving from the family home to something smaller and I'm sentimental about history and things so that hurt, then my beloved cat got ill suddenly and I had to have him euthanised. I couldn't bare to be in the room, I feel shit that I couldn't be there for him and to this day I remain devastated.
For the last several months I've started to look into other methods to die. Clearly another OD is out of the question, I won't make the same mistake twice. First I bought some rope of eBay (after researching the optimum length and girth) I researched how to do a hangman's noose which I've also prepared. Then I tought about location, where's suitable in my local area, will I be seen, will it go wrong. I've sort of talked myself out of that.
For the last few weeks and coming across this site, I've decided the easiest thing to do would be to drive down to Beachy Head and jump. I'll pretend I have a job interview and book myself into a local hotel the night before that's close to the location. My mother won't connect the dots and won't thing anything other than it's a bit suspicious.
Now the question is when, I don't know, I've got down 30th Oct but I've put that back to November.
I feel bad to do this to those that I leave behind, but I can't be here for others. I have tried to get rid of this feeling of wanting to die, I've tried to ignore it but I can't and it's time I just did something about it.
When people are deforested suicidal they are expected to phone the Samaritans, how can you do that if you don't want to talk- and they can say my life's important but how do they know, they don't live my life. Even the community help is useless, sorry but it is.
When people are terminally ill they are expected to suffer and suffer indignity - is that fair?
I believe in the Darwin the Rory that the strongest survive the weakest and if I want to die I should be able to in comfort, with dignity, with no fear and no pain, same as my cat. The same for the ill who want to make their own decision.
Anyways, this ends a very long and boring story for you all. But the main point is OD's do not work and may very well leave you worse off.
If people do want to die, it's up to them, but I think there are other more guaranteed methods.
Best wishes to you all, and strangely I take comfort from knowing I'm not unique in my feelings. HH
