The Lowest Low

TRIGGER WARNING: There will be talk of an attempt on my life in this blog.

They say you have to hit rock bottom in order to change and live a better life right? Well, whoever said it wasn’t lying. And the thing is that everybody’s rock bottom looks different. When I was going through the worst of it with my mental health challenges, I turned into this person that I don’t recognize. I didn’t realize it at the time for a couple of reasons; I didn’t care enough to do an assessment of my personality and being liked wasn’t at the top of my list. After one of overdoses, three years ago, I had to get medically cleared first. Basically that means all of the medication I swallowed had to be free from my system before I could be transferred to a psychiatric unit. So I was taken from the emergency room and moved to the inpatient floor until I was cleared. The doctors were closely monitoring my liver levels and function because the type of medicine I overdosed on could have caused my liver to stop working. I had my blood drawn numerous times during this process and finally, I got disappointing news. My family, however, was relieved. The doctor told us that the medicine I was being given to reverse the effects of my overdose had worked; my liver was not damaged. My mom was sitting in the chair next to my bed and she was smiling. She said, “this is a good thing. Your liver will keep functioning as normal.” I can only imagine how I looked when I responded back to her. Hopeless, angry, apathetic. I told her, and I quote, “that is the worst news I have ever received. If I couldn’t succeed in my attempt, the least my liver could do was stop working and end me that way.” I broke my moms heart that day. My mom, the one who has always loved me unconditionally, worked as a nurse her whole career, a saint by anybody’s standards. When I think back to that day I am embarrassed. Who I was after that attempt, was not me. I grew up learning to be respectful and polite to not only my elders, but everyone. That is not who I was on those days. I was disrespectful, rude, and angry. I don’t know if my anger was overpowering my apathy, but I felt both simultaneously. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but that’s what I felt. I was mad that I had failed at taking my life again. I was apathetic because at that point I just didn’t care anymore. Too many emotions for one person to feel in a short amount of time. I hated myself for treating the people I loved that way, and I won’t make excuses for it. I am just grateful they stuck through it with me because I gave them plenty of reasons not to. That was my rock bottom, and it was dark.

Ciara