I’m “checking out”, I can’t do this shit anymore….

 

 

 

 

Today this last day of January,  I decided to “check out”, I can’t do this shit anymore.

If you need support, please call either….

Lifeline: 13 11 14

or

Beyond Blue: 1300 22 46 36

 

I wrote a ‘note’ to Brian, taped it to my desk, then said “see ya” and walked out of the office.

I didn’t know what to do but ‘drive’. I tried to call a person (I knew would understand, not panic, and reason with my unreasonable) but only got their voicemail. I did leave a message, that I’m guessing made no sense at all, as I was blubbering through snotty sobs. I continued to just “drive”… I had no idea on what I would do next… The thought crossed my mind that if I did harm myself in any way, that person would probable live with the guilt, of not being able to take my call and blame themselves, and that WASN’T fair.

I then contemplated “driving off the road at high speed”. That thought came and went as did numerous others like,” jump off the overpass”, do a “sharp left” and roll the car. The thought that I may injure another person was enough to “stop me in my tracks” and try to make some sort of “rational”, against what my unwell brain, was trying to tell the well part of my brain. I managed to pull myself into some sort of sanity. I continued to drive crying/screaming hysterically (so loud I hurt my own ear drums and screaming to the point of having limited vocals). I drove for a couple of hours until I exited the high way and started heading in the vicinity of home.

I was stopped at the crossing waiting for a train to pass when I toyed with the idea of driving onto the tracks. This would work and ensure a way out, of the world that was so unbelievably painful for me.

But then the gutless and guilt ridden me came out. What gives me the right, to so violently and gut wrenchingly impact that poor train driver and others that would have “front row seats” and witness my bloody end? That wouldn’t be fair to anyone and I did not want to make (or fuck up) anyone else’s lives in a dramatic way, in this one shitty moment, that would, and has, passed me many times before.

I called Brian. But I hung up before he answered.

I then drove to my psychologist (I’d seen her the day before) as I knew I desperately needed help and my attempt to reach out twice today previously, hadn’t been successful.

Here I am heading in the Psych’s direction and I telephone through warning them of my arrival. My Dr, my last hope (or so I thought) was out of the office that day. She wouldn’t be back until the following Monday. How the fuck was I going to get through the next FIVE days?

At this point, I’m sitting in the car park. Numb, with impaired and a limited vocal range (from all the screaming), contemplating the shit hole I was in. My phone rang. The only reason I answered it was because I thought the receptionist may have got on to my Dr and it was her, calling me back. Instead, it was a fella wanting to organise a meeting with Brian and I.

Fuck. Me! The call seemed to last forever and whilst I wanted to say to him “look, you have called me at a really bad time (I’m in the midst of working out how I’m going to kill myself), he went on. And on. And on!!!!!

That call though, was enough to distract my suicidal self, long enough to head home. That call just may have been the divine intervention I was so desperate for?

I’m almost home and a song came on the car radio. That song was “One Way” by Hillsong United. I actually smiled stupidly, as the lyrics rolled around my chaotic, overwhelmed and frazzled, mind.

I lay my life down at your feet
‘Cause you’re the only one I need
I turn to You and You are always there

In troubled times, it’s You I seek
I put You first, that’s all I need
I humble all I am all to You

The gentle, still small voice had boldly, grabbed my attention. That single ray of light, piercing the dark putrid pit I was currently festering in.

I got home, put my nightie on and crawled into bed. The physical and mental exhaustion rendered me unable to do anything else. I stayed in bed for the following four days. Those four days, I spent keeping myself alive and I  just focused on getting myself through each moment. Each hour. Each day.

A peace washed over me. And the narrator of that still, small voice enveloped me, comforted me, and starting giving me “my fight” back. That fight, was ever so slight. But, moment by moment I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, I could  “do it”, and it’s then that I realise only “I” can do anything about the way my life was, right now, and how spectacularly it had spiralled, out of control.

It was then that healthy thoughts began to trickle in. Trickle. They trickled in. Almost like the trickle was thoughtfully decided for me, and all I’d be able to handle.

Brian doesn’t deserve this. My girls don’t deserve this. Those that care about me don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this.

The buck stopped with me. I had to value myself the way so many others valued me. To see myself the way others saw me. I had to ignore the “haters” and limit the time I pondered the vicious and poisonous words that had spewed unfairly from their mouthes.

I had to want it enough to pull myself through the quicksand that threatened to swallow me whole, and swallow me rapidly. “I” was the only one that could do the work, within myself, that would make any step, chance, or hope in a positive direction and destination. No one else was responsible for fixing me, but me. And only ME.

As I reflect on this, I now realise the strength I had in this fleeting and temporary moment of weakness and the spiteful personal attack. The help I thought I needed, I already had. I just needed to “tap” into what I knew, and believed, had to happen. That slap on the face that says “get a grip Megan, get a bloody grip!”. I really do believe that we have the ability to help ourselves in order to get better. No matter how small the steps, they are still steps. You can stand at the crossroads wondering which road to take, and not take either, as your life passes you by. Or you can choose a direction. Even if the direction isn’t right for you, you can still go back and take the other road. Don’t spend unnecessary and valuable time “umming and arghing”. Life is precious and may just pass you by.

It may be as simple as chatting with a professional, your GP, a trusted friend. It is even possible to speak anonymously to someone on the phone if you feel you have no other option. Go on, you are worth it and you can be strong when you have to be. Throw yourself a lifeline. Go on, I dare ya!

Megan