Driving Blindfolded

September 2014 I woke in a psyche ward to find stitches at the top of my nose. They made me look a bit like a science fiction character. Several days later I would find out I actually broke my nose. Large dark purple circles surrounded my eyes and black and purple bruises discolored a large portion of my body. My head was tender to the touch. I definitely looked like I had been in a fight. This would be my first admittance for an overdose.

I wasn't alert until the morning after the ambulance whisked me away. I honestly did not consider that I might wake up after taking approximately forty tranquilizers and a hand full of Melatonin.

After I took the easy way out with pills, I had changed into a favorite t-shirt, drank a lot of water, turned off the phone, went to the bathroom, picked up the house, fixed a cup of tea, and then settled into bed. I was certain of my fate as life's direction seemed to difficult to maneuver.

My husband had shocked me a couple of days prior sharing that he had a girlfriend for the past four months. By chance, they met at a gas station in the small town where my husband works an hour from home. Kevin and I met in high school and married after I graduated college. I was in the marriage for the "until death do us part." Unstable moods had eclipsed me and I had toyed with thoughts of suicide in the past during a long term, very deep depression. I would never recommend this route to anyone else.

I easily swallowed the pills that day and then wrote a note to Kevin stating how thankful I was for his love through the years. Something I had often previously questioned was if God would forgive me for taking my life. I came to the conclusion, right or wrong, that God loved me far more that I could comprehend. But there is no doubt He wasn't happy with me.

I laid a sign on our bed stating, "Do Not Dare Wake Me Up." I wasn't concerned with Kevin's feelings as I thought this would free him to be with his new love interest. So I succumbed to the allure of never wakening. I also wrote notes to my children and grandchildren, and the students I loved at the school where I worked. I was not thinking how the news would affect those I loved. Irrational, death seemed to be my only answer as I just wanted to escape the madness.

I must have gotten out of bed in a trance-like state and somehow fell over the kitchen stools. I was told they were turned on their sides. I assume this was when I broke my nose and bruised myself against the many wooden sections. I understand that when the paramedics arrived they took my vitals and proceeded to walk me out of our home. All the neighbors looked on and wondered....

When the paramedics arrived they took my vitals and walked my out of our home. All the neighbos looked on and wondered...... The ambulance attendants put me on a gurney and headed to the ER. Thankfully the meds I took did not require a stomach pump. I had researched that a bit, plus one of my long term doctors said a vial half full would be enough to stop my heart.

A psyche ward is something my hometown hospital did not currently offer. So I had double the fun and took yet another ambulance to the next town. This meant we had expenses that were not covered by insurance of about $1,000. This alone could be enough to put someone with bipolar into a mission home or on the street. So in my stupor I never thought to consider the financial costs.

Even though I was not yet alert, I am sure a stomach pump would have brought me to my senses. I once witnessed this procedure and it sickened me to watch. The pint size charcoal substance you have to drink in order to rid contaminants is enough to make me nauseated.

I didn't remember anything after going to sleep in our bed. I have no recollection of the paramedics, the ambulance, or the siren escorted trip to ER. Thankfully the overdose did little harm. I was recently told it can take up to a year for your body to heal from an overdose. This may be another reason why it is so hard to lift my head off the pillow each morning.

The staff and my doctor were much more flexible than most any place I have been admitted. They did show movies with ghosts which seems like an odd choice since some patients could be delusional. There was a lot of cursing between patients, and the music seemed overwhelmingly loud. I tried to ignore the commotion.

Waking each morning was quite unpleasant considering my first thoughts were of the affair ongoing. My husband left me confused each time he visited the hospital. He is so tired of the bipolar that he would love to leave, but feels a sense of responsibility. And hopefully still loves me.

It is extraordinary that no mania resulted after this event. Unfortunately, while still over medicated and not on top of my game, the staff allowed me to call the director of the school where I work. I proceeded to tell her everything that happened. I don't remember this conversation, but it lead to a leave of absence.

STIFLED

The lowest low

No more fun

Without a job

My world undone.

I would work

Without pay

I loved the kids

They made my day.

Now much time

To figure out

What my next steps

are all about.