Saturday, May 28, 2011

Pondering why I OD when I get so depressed

*** Please note that I am not going to take an overdose. I am simply reflecting on how I get to a point in my life that I take this drastic step. I have tried to OD over 8 times so I really would like to learn why I do it. This rambling entry is just me thinking out loud ~ So don't worry ~ I am safe***
When I cannot articulate my pain into words, then I feel this overwhelming compulsion to express it in other ways.
I used to cut. But I don’t like the pain. It hurts. And it leaves scars that I can’t explain away. I am a word cutter. My thighs are my canvas. I have had M*******” and H*****” (daughters names) and “I hate me…” I’ve carved “Ugly” and “fat” and “stupid” and “die”. I have started my own self deprecating dictionary on them.  
The scars take months and months to fade away. Even now, if I get out of a hot shower I can still see little white traces of these words visible. But once the red skin from the hot water disappears, so do the words…  But just to be sure, I never wear shorts.
Unlike most cutters I don’t enjoy the pain from doing it or watching the blood that seeps out. I can only guess I do it because it startles me into reality.  I haven’t cut in nearly a year.
Another thing I do which is far more dangerous is to take pills. When I feel that overwhelming pain and sadness inside of me it becomes all-consuming.  Sometimes it lasts for days on end. I become so depressed. Despondent. And if it gets worse over time I eventually go into a state of numbness.  I retreat into an anesthetic bubble of nothingness. I feel nothing I literally detach myself from my feelings. I don’t “feel” anymore.  I can no longer reason. I know I have a family that loves me but consequences aren’t relevant. I don’t want to say that I don’t care that I am going to hurt my family,… It’s more that I don’t understand that my actions will hurt them,…  I don’t have the capacity to know that I will be hurting myself or the ones I love. I just go into this dreamlike state of floating. All I can think of is taking pills that will put me to sleep. So I no longer have to exist. All pain will be gone.
I know people think that when I overdose I do it to be dramatic. That I think things like “This will get their attention” or that I ‘stage’ the scene to make it look dramatic. Nothing could be further from the truth. One time I did it in a hotel room and the police said I cut myself and I had pictures of my babies with me and I drew all over my body with pen and other stuff that I don’t ever recall doing. I don’t even remember driving the two hours there or checking in! My mind is way too detached at this point to involve anyone else’s feelings or consequences. (This means I no longer have a conscience to stop me from following through with it) No one else exists to me while I am in this state. I am outside my body no longer in control. I am too far gone. Please believe me when I say I do not overdose to get attention. I overdose to stop the pain. My dreamlike state that I have climaxed into is a result of days or weeks or even months of severe non-stop depression that my body shuts down from eventually. My mind and body can no longer take it so it automatically goes into this dissociated state as a defense mechanism. I goes into this ‘trance’ and once I’m at that point I am no longer in charge. That’s why acute and prolonged depression is so dangerous for me.
 Because I spend so much time alone I don’t know how long I am in this state. Is it hours? Days? I never remember going into it. And I don’t recall much when I wake up in hospital.
Can anyone relate to any of this or am I really just rambling on in my own little world tonight?

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