I don't remember the thought process that led to my suicide attempt, although I remember the act and the lack of emotion involved. It is an unfortunate result of the retrograde amnesia you can get with some sleeping pills. For example I remember waking up late on thursday but nothing else of that day until the dramatic end. I do remember the act and I remember my brother finding me and driving me to the hospital. I remember being in the ER and talking to people, but not too much of what was said. I remember a co-worker visiting me the next day but not too much of that either.

So really I do not remember the most important parts. Only flashes of facts; concerns over work and the endlessness of chronic pain. Obviously, reading my post and the 'note' I thought it through and articulated it sufficiently. Afterwards though I was neither happy nor sad that I was disrupted (although now, man, am I glad my bro happened to be awake and happened to come into my computer room). Thing is, afterwards, I was more concerned for upseting my family than my own well-being. Because I know suicide is a selfish thing and it bothered me that I had upset them so much, but I felt nothing about my own survival. I felt fine talking about my motivations because them seemed rather reasonable. I did not want to stay in the hospital because I abhor them. And that was that. I was surprised and a little stunned by my friends responding on Facebook and then regretted freaking them out as well.

What is disturbing is the lack of response to surviving such an event. As thought the difference between living and dying was not important, except in how it affected the people I know. This heighlights my largest concern over the whole thing really. I am not an emotive person generally... I think about my emotions, I reflect, I digest and I move on. I know coping is a process and chronic pain will cause fluctuations in my emotions, but I know they will pass. While I know suicide can be a well thought out process, generally it is a spontanous emotional one, which means for me, a passing thought I would never act on.

But I did act on it. I did think it was time to end the pain in the most final of ways. I explained myself in detail. I remember writing that note and thinking it was good to get it out of my system. I vaguely remember thinking why not act on it. Sure it was stupid and rash. It is also understandable and scary.

It in fact terifies me now. Not the reasoning, which obviously I understand. It terrifies me that I could choose to act on a moment. Sure I knew I was capable of doing it. Hell, I wished for a heart attack just to have a nice, neat ending that would not be my fault and therefore would not cause guilt in my family. The thing is it was too damn easy. Easy to do and easy to sit there bleeding and not caring. The best way to describe how I feel right now is it is like completing a dare. I used to be afraid of diving from the high board of the swimming pool, because I have a fear of jumping from high hieghts. So heart pounding I went to the very edge of the board and said to myself 'one more step and then it is done and out of my choice' and I did. Then I was never afraid of it again. And now that I have had a little time to reflect on my survival rather than the act itself it scares the hell out of me. Too damned easy. And now there is not even the fear of it. Suicide was that occasional temptation on a really bad pain day, that limit, that extreme that was a comforting option but not something I would actually do... it was just a comfort to know if the pain got too bad I could. And now I have gone beyond that limit and it was too damned easy. I am afraid of myself. I am afraid of my own reasoning. I am afraid to be alone at night with just the pain there to taunt me and remind me that I did not even care that I survived. I should I think. I rather like my life. I am still the same laughing goofy person I was before. But now I know if left to myself and I think too much I can do something I will not have the chance to regret. I do regret it now because of the distress I caused. But I ought to care a little more about my own survival. I guess for now it is good enough that I am scared of myself.

I'm alive...

The thing about the internet is that it sure makes suicide more dramatic. I rather think I wrote a fine suicide note all things considered. Made a fine attempt too.

I may have chronic pain but I am not depressed. Sometimes we handle the pain and sometimes it handles us. Sometimes it is easier not to think about it so it is not so real and endless. Sometimes while I am at work and that pain is arching through me I feel like weeping and have to choke back sobs.... is that depression or is that simply a reaction to being in pain and trying not to show it? Does it really matter? Is my invisible disability not as worthy as a visible disability or more known illness? hell, after all this time enduring is this even surprising or is it simply inevitable?

I got caught in one of those dangerous moments. Where I am not upset but I can't imagine or conceive of living a moment more of that agony. A very dangerous moment because it is easy to just do it then... and that is that... no second choices if you make the wrong choice in that small moment.

I had had a migraine since that Friday and it was a brutal one. I went to work because frankly work was not giving me any choices in the matter. The pain became so intense I could not sleep, which meant that migraine continued through the weekend. Usually I get a sense of profound relief when the weekend comes because even if I am in pain I have no demands placed on me and no facade to uphold (thus the lack of a social life). This time however I was tired, I just could not sleep and the pain continued. I had been stressed out about work and how they were not handling my invisible disability, thus proving the 'invisible' part.

So that week was bad from the get go. I was so drained I thought to myself why not take a lot of sleeping pills, which I know will not kill me, but if I was lucky I would get a nice coma. I may not be able to call in sick for a migraine... but surely a coma would count? I called in sick Wednesday because the pain was making me frantic... however just calling in sick and knowing I would have to deal with the consequences of that on my return was difficult to handle. Having taken all those sleeping pills, well I slept on in till 3pm and missed another day of work thus tripling my distress on having to handle that. That night having taken just my one sleeping pill, but being in too much pain to sleep I got up... that being my mistake right there... what can you do when you are in so much pain, can't get rid of it, can't sleep and have to get up and go to work in the morning? Well, apparently you try to kill yourself. I don't remember all that clearly. Just that I could not go to work and I knew work would not let me not go to work. I was too calm... maybe numb. Nothing much mattered at that point except ending that pain. It was like my brain had come to this inevitable conclusion that I had no will or desire to resist. Stuck in that moment of pain that clouds out everything else, eliminates all other possibilities. And I gave into its demands. And it was so easy to take that knife and make that pain end all the pain. And as I was bleeding I was thinking there it goes... finally I did something to finish it. Fortunately, my brother woke up and found me, took me to hospital and that is that.

I am not depressed, which sounds insane to say after such an attempt. I am just living in a lot of pain, trying to do what I should be doing and that can be too much for the best of us. So I survived. I have no intentions of trying again. Normally I would never consider such a final act that would cause so much pain to the people I love... but the power of that moment and that agony that seemed like it would stretch to eternity had me its it grip. Never underestimate the power of pain and its ability to take you out of the moment, until you are lost in it.

So I feel fine now. My wrists are a constant reminder of what I attempted. And I freaked out my entire family. And this all seems so extreme to have done such a thing because I could not imagine being able to work the next day or face the guilt of not working. Work is not worth it, people tell me. But work had power over me. The power to make me think I was failing. To make me feel guilty for being in too much pain to work. To make me worried I would lose my job and the guilt that would cause. To make me feel ashamed for being in pain, for being ill for not being up to par. What can I say? People dont think clearly when they are in pain. I don't know why my workplace would think I would endure that torment silently forever... something had to break, kinda wish it had not been me... I had a nice facade going on there.

This is that- The end- Story over

I think it is very important to state that this was a post I made prior to a suicide attempt. And obviously I did survive luckily. And I am leaving it on here because it reminds me of my mindset.

Time for plan B. Plan B takes a lot of time to prepare sooo I will just go with the standard good byes. I can cope like the best of us. But at work, where i feel diminished  ashamed about my own illness, hurt about how management only cares that I am there and not about the pain they are causing me. Granted all this pain, plus work, plus lack of sleep is not putting me in the right mind. But I am tired and the thought of going to work with list pain one more time freaks me out. I can't do it anymore.

So suicide note:

It’s not you its me. It is not about some sort of depression or ennui that comes and goes. I am not depressed, I am just shoved into a corner. This about the loss of hope. This as about a workplace that would get up a cheer if your quite (not the workers... the management, saves them all that plotting to get me out of there legally). This is about someone with chronic pain that fought the fight, fought the battle, but lost the war (hey, it was a long out over a decade war). I have fought the fight for a very long time and done well. I laugh things on and pretend they are not as bad as they are to make others happy.
So don’t blame yourself. There is no point to that. I did none of the standard suicidal things. I did not act depressed  I did not start giving away my belongs. This is not about depression this is about pain tolerance and I just plain ran out.

Hell, when I took forty sleeping pills my aim as for a coma. I thought just a little break was all I needed to survive the pain and work again. Seriously, who would have though 40 sleeping pills have little effect on me except make wobbly on the feet. Still. I wish I could figure out sure way for the coma thing... I don't want to break any hearts.

The thing is I have to go to work tomorrow. And I can’t do it. I can’t face working another day ins such pain, while management has one of their talk so me about how I am not getting this target and not available enough. At first they threaten to fire me, made me come in with horrific migraines and told others to not let me leave, now (suppose because legalities) they now just threaten by work position. Whether they created a hostile work environment…. Not the staff by the way, who have been wonderful to me and a sympathetic ear. The area manager would not accept my compromises and that was that. I was left with coming in every day, missing no days, which is fine for them torment for me. So they defeated me. And when they did I felt dead inside, honestly just numb… like they had taken the only think that could have worked for me, I was in the same situation and they could not care less unless I was productive.
I feel shame and guilt for not going in…. even damn it I am the sick one. Damn then. Maybe they think I am lying and that migraines are not a disease and maybe It is my fault for not changing my life style. Fact is, it is a disease. And with chronic migraines statistically we get most beating with the stigma stick. I think also that more chronic migraine suffers die from suicide than they do by stroke, heart attack and seizures. They don’t know shit. They mad me feel like my ‘problem’ was my fault. Then forced me in everyday with their veiled threats of a possible demotion. ,plus demanding I get my audit scores up and god knows what else while working with migraines, migraine related drugs and painkillers. I felt humiliated, frustrated, embarrassed and angry.
I gave up a social life. I gave up extracurricular activities. Martin does the shopping and the cooking. This is because working with migraine and chronic pain takes everything else I have to give. He fills the gaps because he loves me and I love him for it. Work does not care about that, that my life has been whittled down to making through the work day and then collapsing. And that is hard on my man, but he is a good loving man. I kept working like that for him, because I wanted to put my share in and did not wan to be a burden to him.
I am left feeling trapped. I have to go into work, I have to suffer, with no sympathy from the higher ups and the benefits are all there side, with no consideration or accommodation on my side. I know I can’t make it in every day. Not with those killer five day migraines. So they win, who is to say what the result will be. It is funny though, or so very funny… if only I had a mental disorder then I could have all the time needed. Chronic pain is a disability, but not according to them. What do they have against invisible disabilities? Don’t we suffer physical, mentally and emotionally?
Fact is I have fought long and hard. I had to give up getting my Phd, a dream gone by. I tried to just find a ‘a job’ and those did not work either because of the shift work. Then my current employer hired me even when I told her I had migraines and just cam off a leave of them. Point is I gave all those dreams and goals up in order to survive. And survive I did and developed some awesome coping strategies. But we all break under torture. That is a fact.
But I can. I am tired of this constant battle between good pain day at work to a crippling pain wish I could die pain day. I am tired of doctors who can’t help me fast enough since I am the one that has to work when the migraines go out of control.
I wish I would be killed in a car accident or have a fatal stroke or heart-attack. You may think that sounds odd…. But everyone with chronic pain has the same wishful thinking. Dying, just dying but not at our own hand, so not one would feel guilty about it. None of our families would suffer more than our death would cause. That is not suicidal thoughts.. That just a trick we use to get through the day. I wished for it endlessly when I was in so much pain and at work… I just wanted my heart to give out… because then that would be a ’valid leave of absences.” My writing has always been a way to distract me.

What can I say this is a half life I live. It is torture. But I like living. I love Martin more than he knows it. He is a good man who would help me at the drop of a hat if I needed something. He is sweet and goofy and smart. I will miss him terribly. He has ways been my strength, my comrade in arms and the love of my life. I love slurpies and thunder storms and good books… Hell, life is worth living. This existence I call like is not. I don’t know what to do about work any more. I can't do what they expect of me.

I am sorry Martin- I can’t do it anymore. For so long I did it and laughed about it… but work is killing me. Bad enough to have migraines ruin our social calendar and my life outside of work, but work is too painful and I know they want to fire me and makes me feel so useless so guilty and ashamed. And I think that is the way at home too… work takes everything I have, including all the med I need to take, and then there is nothing left over by the time I get home. I love you and I always will. I will miss you so much. I don’t want to do this to you. I don’t want to die, I just can’t take the pain anymore. It is one thing having migraine at home… but at work, it is horrific… how could they torture me like that? And it is a burden to you, even if you do not know it. Chronic pain does not just affect me it affects family as well.

I sorry Dave- You have always been there for me, thick and thin. My best brother, and my best friend. You make me laugh and then sometimes I forget the pain. That is like a super power. I could thank you a thousand times for making my mood better when it was otherwise not.

And to every one else. I am sorry I can no long fight the good fight. I feel selfish and cowardly. But when I think about working tomorrow I, well I would rather be dead.

wwll I rook e40 sleepimh pills

I cna'r stop the pain. i can;t sufered through the pain anymore a work. cna' face work after thar miss ed day, or the lecre of how crapy crappu im a m role. How evrtyinh i do s sub par

Ad i haev not sleept fro weeks... the pain won'tlet me... I just wan to esleep for awhile. Maye months. So I took 40 fleepimh pills and hoepinhfor s coma. coma would ne wundeeful.

But of id i axidentalu die.. no loss

I`d like to cremated if that happemé or in the lowersr cost coffim tjeu provide

My senses decieve me...

Well, if seeing is believing and perception is reality... then, man, is it extremely sparkly out today! For the last week I have had intense-er visual snow going on, such that it is dang hard to see without my sunglasses outside and now even inside it getting distorted. Usually it is just like a million bajillion pin prick sparks of white with a few black and blue ones in there. But the more intense it gets, the more it looks like thick sparkles that wobble into snake like lines. I keep staring off into space because they are very distracting.

To make my senses completely out of whack I have been getting bad ringing in my ears with the migraines and today it changed to a wierd waaooh noise.

Which just goes to show you even when you treat a nasty migraine at noon, the fun migraine effects dont always go away themselves.

I would love to just redirect you to the new site...

But sadly the redirect function doesn't function. I will continue to persist hitting it and see if it will eventually do something. Or s...