This is going to be a hard blog, but I need to do it. I’m going to start out with my journal entry.
It’s Lexi’s 9 month birthday.
I ruined it.
This day will forever be scarred by a melt-down, suicide threat, and trip to the ER.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I’m supposed to be a beaming wife and mom. I’m not supposed to want to take my own life. A person shouldn’t fly under the dr’s radar until they threaten to take their own life.
Depression is real.
It’s really hard.
I feel so ashamed. I was so scared they were going to admit me to the psych-ward and I was going to officially be crazy. I feel like I’ve let everyone down. I feel sorry that my husband married me. I feel sorry that Lexi was given to me. They both deserve so much more. My mom shouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m letting so many people down. I don’t want anyone to know what happened today. I want to be normal again.
I don’t know how to explain what happened. One minute I was fine, and the next minute I wasn’t. Jacob had come home for lunch and literally been gone for 20 minutes. Lexi wasn’t throwing a fit. The day was calm. The only way I can describe it is panic. I felt like Jacob was never coming back from work. I felt overwhelmed. The only way I knew to end that feeling was to end it all. I knew I couldn’t do that with Lexi here. I called Jacob and told him he had to come home.
I couldn’t stop crying and shaking. As Jacob left the room to start calling doctors, I sat rocking back and forth on the bed. He decided the best place to go was the ER. We dropped Lexi off with his mom, which I barely remember. On the way to the hospital I started to calm down. But as we got closer the panic started setting in again. This time because I was so scared they were going to admit me to the hospital and I would have to be away from Lexi. That’s when I realized it was her 9 month birthday.
By the time we got to see a dr in the ER I had calmed down. I still had to be evaluated by a psych nurse. She was super nice and gave me lots of references. I had to sign a waiver saying that if I left I would seek treatment and call 911 if I had any worries. I was also not to be left alone for 24 hrs.
The next day I didn’t want to get out of bed. If I got out of bed then it would be real. The previous day would have really happened. I also didn’t want to face anyone. I didn’t know who all in my family would stop by the house or call. I was (and still am) ashamed.