Supposed Recovery
Mood Rating: 4/10
Well, Monday turned out to be a very bad day. My husband went to have lunch with his parents and I decided enough was enough. I searched the house high and low for the key to the medicine box, but I couldn't find it. So, I decided to take the pills that I had available, which was only 2100mg Venlafaxine and about 70mg Valium. I downed them in 2 lots, crying my eyes out, then I progressed to a new scalpel. I managed to cut about half a blade's depth, which is obviously nowhere near enough for an artery. I typed a note to my husband, and emailed a friend to say goodbye. I guess I knew what I'd done wouldn't be enough, but I just hoped with all of my heart that it would be. I certainly didn't want to wake up.
2 hours later, my husband returned home and slapped me awake. He immediately called my mum, my brother and an ambulance. Everyone seemed to arrive within a couple of minutes, so I must have been drifting in and out of consciousness.
To cut a long story short, I was admitted to A&E, then to the EAU (Emergency Assessment Unit) for observation over night. I had a number of ECGs and other tests, as there was a risk of hypertension, tachycardia and coma.
I saw some doctors and a great psychiatric nurse who gave me the usual Samaritans leaflets, etc. But he did give me a little more hope about seeing the psychiatrist on the 17th.
Since being discharged on Tuesday, I've been okay. I started to go down last night, and today I'm pretty tearful. I'm going to try and do some housework to keep me busy, and I need to drop my discharge notice off to my GP, especially as I received a letter today saying that a decision about claiming Disability Living Allowance cannot be made as yet; they need to write to my GP.
So, here I am. Alive still, and I'm currently thinking that that is pretty unfortunate.
Well, Monday turned out to be a very bad day. My husband went to have lunch with his parents and I decided enough was enough. I searched the house high and low for the key to the medicine box, but I couldn't find it. So, I decided to take the pills that I had available, which was only 2100mg Venlafaxine and about 70mg Valium. I downed them in 2 lots, crying my eyes out, then I progressed to a new scalpel. I managed to cut about half a blade's depth, which is obviously nowhere near enough for an artery. I typed a note to my husband, and emailed a friend to say goodbye. I guess I knew what I'd done wouldn't be enough, but I just hoped with all of my heart that it would be. I certainly didn't want to wake up.
2 hours later, my husband returned home and slapped me awake. He immediately called my mum, my brother and an ambulance. Everyone seemed to arrive within a couple of minutes, so I must have been drifting in and out of consciousness.
To cut a long story short, I was admitted to A&E, then to the EAU (Emergency Assessment Unit) for observation over night. I had a number of ECGs and other tests, as there was a risk of hypertension, tachycardia and coma.
I saw some doctors and a great psychiatric nurse who gave me the usual Samaritans leaflets, etc. But he did give me a little more hope about seeing the psychiatrist on the 17th.
Since being discharged on Tuesday, I've been okay. I started to go down last night, and today I'm pretty tearful. I'm going to try and do some housework to keep me busy, and I need to drop my discharge notice off to my GP, especially as I received a letter today saying that a decision about claiming Disability Living Allowance cannot be made as yet; they need to write to my GP.
So, here I am. Alive still, and I'm currently thinking that that is pretty unfortunate.
posted by Bipolar Bear at 11:38 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home