Hey All!
So I will save you the original post that I was going to make (it was very long and I wasn't even done writing it) and I will give you the TLDR version. You can call me Roo; I'm 30 and I live in the US. I lurked on the forum for a bit before I joined. Everyone seemed so open and supportive and I thought this would be the perfect place to convene with like-minded folks. As for a bit of history, both of my parents were addicts and I watched them struggle with both depression and bipolar disorder throughout my childhood. They were both abusive toward me and each other. The first time I remember wanting to CTB was at five years old. I didn't know what the concept of death really was, but I knew I wanted to hurt myself and I didn't want to exist anymore. At seven, I discovered cutting and how much it soothed me. At sixteen, I attempted to CTB by taking 63 Excedrin PMs but it just put me into what they called "a combative coma." Apparently, I took on a doctor, a few paramedics, and my dad while I was out of it. As for the experience itself, I remember falling asleep thinking it was the last time I ever would and I felt the most at peace that I've ever felt in my life. It was like my suffering was finally over. Then, I woke up. I was perfectly fine health-wise, bu I was hella pissed! Everyone was nice to me because they didn't initially know I tried to CTB. They thought I had meningitis and then encephalitis because my brain was swelling. In the end, people found out and they were mad at me. They wanted to commit me but my dad took me out of the hospital AMA. The next couple of years were spent trying to hide it from our small community. Once I went to college, my life got situationally better. I had more friends and I had pretty much escaped my abusive home life, but it seemed to keep creeping back in at times, since I didn't go that far away for college. Then, I decided to go to grad school across the country--so far away that no one would ever be able to influence my life. Moving that far away from anyone I knew was hard, but not as hard as I thought it would be. I guess by moving around a lot as a kid and by not having many friends anyway, it made the transition easier. I really loved what I was doing in grad school, but I was emotionally all over the place. I didn't have any money so I was barely making ends meet. Eventually, I started to meet people and I began to date.
It wasn't until I went through a horrible breakup did things escalate. I went from being utter ecstatic and in love to sitting on my couch with a bottle of vodka and a piece of glass to my wrist. I think that started the extreme swings. I tried to get help from the school psychiatrist, but he basically told me that I just had a shitty life and I would be fine. I did have a nice therapist but, from my experience, therapy can only get you so far. However, things started getting better. I got jobs and continued with school. I also began dating my current boyfriend, which made my life a lot better.
If any of you have ever been through post-grad, it's rough! I spent eight months looking for jobs and all of my friends that I made moved away. When I finally got a job, my coworkers were horrible. I had to leave it because they said such horrible things to me. I went through shitty job after shitty job and I was completely defeated. It got to the point that I went through a breakdown. First, I went to a GP physician and she gave me antidepressants. When I took them, it felt like lightning was going through my veins. I felt like I could fly. But then I crashed...hard. One day, I went out for my lunch break, bought razor blades, and took them to my car. I knew I was losing it and I tried to get a doctor's appointment. But, before the next day, I was already slashing myself. By the time I went in for the appointment, I was really cut up and I begged the intake therapist to help me.
Here's what "helping" meant: they put me in a room for ten hours with no food or water. I couldn't go to the bathroom alone. The only way I did get food and water was at the mercy of my friends. When they finally did take me to an actual hospital, my things were confiscated. I couldn't do anything but pace down the hallway and, eventually, they got angry with me for that. I couldn't even take a pencil and write in my room. They checked on me every fifteen minutes. I didn't even see a doctor until the next morning. I spent all of that time for him to take two minutes to tell me that I had bipolar disorder because the antidepressants were making me manic. I already suspected this, as I told the first doctor about my family history. After seeing the doctor, I was, luckily, released.
Ever since then, it's been a battle of the meds. It took a year to figure out something that sort of works. I still have fairly significant ups and downs, but the duration of them is shorter. I'm afraid to go back to the doctor and tell her I'm still having them because I don't want to go through a series of meds again and maybe end up more messed up. I haven't had a good therapist in years and, at this point, I doubt its effectiveness. My boyfriend continues to be very supportive, but I know it's hard for him to deal with because I had to deal with it to with my mother. I finally have a good job and nice coworkers. It's not what I went to school to do, which is pretty disappointing.
In the end, CTB is always an option and, to be honest, I've always seen that as being the way I go. When I'm down, I think about it a lot and when I'm up, I don't think about it much at all. So, if I ever make that decision, it would be when I'm level-headed--when I'm somewhere in the middle. It would be a long, educated decision and I'm sure it would have to depend on life circumstances. I already feel like a burden to those around me and I don't want to leave a huge emotional footprint behind when I go. Is it better to make them suffer as long as I live or is it better to rip off the band-aid and go quickly so maybe they'll be able to live happy lives without being worried about me? Also, there's the fact that CTB is scary and painful and, although I was a cutter, I'm still scared of having a lot of pain.
I'm here because you all seem like you're going through a lot of the same struggles, albeit different circumstances. I feel like I can discuss my thoughts and feelings freely here whereas in my life, people would be scared or wouldn't be able to handle it at all. So, I'm looking forward to getting to know some or all of you. I'm glad to be here.
As for interests, I love my cats! I play LOL and I just unlocked all of the Smash characters recently. I've also been into Tropico 5 lately. I love to read and write (in case this long ass post wasn't an indicator of that). I paint sometimes and I'm really into television and documentaries. My boyfriend and I just finished Season 4 of Better Call Saul and it was amazing! Right now, we're watching MasterChef and I'm really into Beat Shazaam. That leads me into the fact that I LOVE MUSIC! It's been my coping skill since I was a child and I'm pretty much into every genre, depending on my mood. If you want to discuss any of these things, I'm open to doing so.
Anyway, yeah...this was the short version. My apologies. :-)
Thanks for reading and I hope to hear from you!
