If you or someone you know is in distress or considering suicide, there are places to turn for support right here in our province, including your doctor or Newfoundland and Labrador’s Mental Health Crisis Centre at (709) 737-4668.
The Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention website also has information about where to find help.
You NEVER have to struggle alone. Sometimes it’s easier to talk on the phone than it is face to face and that’s why these services are available. You can access them from all over the world, not just in Newfoundland. So if you are struggling, I urge you to take the biggest step of all and break your silence by confiding in someone.
I wish I had known about these services when I was in that dark place. But I’m glad I know now because I can share it with you guys. I hope you all have a safe night 💜
#SuicideHotline #SuicidePrevention #DontSufferAlone #SufferInSilenceNoMore #DepressionHurts #PickUpThePhone #SomeoneIsWaitingToTalkToYou
When you first become sick they will show you sympathy. They’ll send you cards and hope that you get well soon. The call or text to check in on you and see how you’re doing. They’ll cut you some slack because of your situation. They’ll be understanding when you have trouble keeping up with them.
But once your illness becomes a chronic condition they wonder why you can’t get better. They show impatience and frustration. They stop trying to include you in their plans. They ask why you aren’t trying harder. They just don’t get it. They just want you to be able bodied again so that you are not inconveniencing them.
People get tired of you being sick but they don’t stop to think that you’re probably tired of being sick too. They don’t take the time to think about how you would love to just get over it. They don’t care enough to realize that you did not choose this.
Just feel like venting. My chest is heavy. I’m emotionally drained and physically exhausted.
Why am I so lazy?
Well, it’s not lazy. Lazy is when you shrug things off because you just don’t give a damn. When you’re curled up on your couch, on your bed, alone and desperately wishing that you had your life in order, that you did all the things you had to do, that it didn’t feel like breaking through rocks just to feed and clothe yourself and get some sleep, that’s not lazy. People don’t understand. You tell them it’s hard and they tell you, no it isn’t. You start to wonder if maybe they are right. Is breaking through these rocks easy for everyone else? Are they that much stronger than me?
They don’t look like they’re struggling.
Just try harder they say.
But I am trying!!!!
It’s just not working.
Breaking boulders in my path until I’m worn out isn’t lazy. And I do it day after day after day after day after day. I’m not lazy. Most people don’t have those rocks to break. They don’t even know what it’s like to have to break through rocks to get things done. They don’t understand how hard I have to work and how hopeless I feel when I try and try and try and only fail to do what other people seem to do so freaking easily. Things are harder for me. They really are. And if those people had to deal with my problems, they wouldn’t be able to do any better than I am doing.
I’m not lazy.
I’m not weak.
I’m fighting hard. Damn it!!
I’m fighting harder than ever before.
And I guess I just wanted you to know that today.
The evil head of bipolar has decided to surface this week and it has forced me to my knees in brokenness. I spent the past 2 days curled up in the fetal position in my bed, a dog on either side of me keeping me warm. I am a walking zombie, experiencing waves of emotion that leave me crumpled over in tears. I’m so detached that I have no awareness of what’s happening around me, often not even hearing David say my name. Buddy has taken to lying on top of my chest and I welcome his weight and warmth as it’s the only thing reminding me I’m still alive.
Bipolar disorder is hard.
I’ve gone a while without having an episode but when I do, each one is truly a battle of life and death. Yesterday I took a handful of pills. Not enough to stop my heart but enough to induce a 19 hour semi coma. My husband came to find me in a very deep sleep, curled up in the fetal position, and drooling and he wasn’t able to wake me. After a while he pulled me to a sitting position and got me to drink water. In a fit of rage he flushed all of the medication, leaving me without any for the next 2 weeks, until I can get it filled again. I’m screwed.
Then he sat up all night. My husband sat up the entire night, watching over me, afraid that I was going to stop breathing. But I didn’t. I made it through the night and he left me in bed and went to work at 6am with zero sleep. And that’s where I stayed until 4pm today. My only accomplishment has been a shower which I cried the whole way through.
If you have a god that you pray to, I ask from the bottom of my heart that you would whisper a prayer for me. I’m not doing so good …. and I’m really scared. I don’t know how much I can handle.