Crazy pill count:
AM 300 Lamictal, 250 Nuvigil, 5 Zyprexa
Afternoon 5 Zyprexa
PM 300 Lamictal, 200 Seroquel, 10 Zyprexa
"Triptych" (moment before his lover's death) by Francis Bacon
I always hope to bring humor into our lives.
* BIPOLAR * b?i?p?o?l?a?r * bIpOlAr * b-i-p-o-l-a-r *
We’re stuck this way; let’s at least have a little chuckle.
But we can’t always laugh about it. Because there is nothing funny about suicide. Oh great, everyone’s having a fabulous time until someone brings up suicide. I know it’s a buzz kill, but it’s something we have to talk about.
I could tell you all about the statistics of bipolar disorder and suicide. I could give you percentages of how much the risk goes up after the first attempt, or the prevalence between men and women. But it doesn't matter what percent of bipolar patients attempt suicide, or what percentage try again.
It only matters when it happens to you or someone you love.
Suicide, we’ve all been there. Let me retract my sentence and start over. Suicide, I hope you have NEVER been there. If you have, we’re so f*^$%’n glad you’re still here. There is one thing in life I want you to fail at. It’s committing suicide. And I want you to fail at it
EVERY SINGLE TIME.
This is an all caps situation. I don’t usually use all caps. I’m just not an all caps girl. I don’t like screaming at you, but when talking about suicide and NOT dying it’s mandatory. If you don’t believe me look it up in
The Joy of Being Bipolar: Everyday moods that destroy your day Chapter 1:
Bipolar grammar in emergency situations when all caps can save a life.
I’ve talked about
Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 27,
Chapter 39, Chapter 58,
Chapter 99, and
Chapter 178 but finally I unveil Chapter 1…you finally know where it all starts, what it’s all about – it’s saving lives. Yours and those you love.
"The Suicide" by Richardo Reyes
If you have been there, I’ve been right there with you. What do you do when it’s 3am and you’re goggling the best “foolproof” way to kill yourself? When you are printing a google map to the closest highest bridge? When you are one exit away? When you’re searching for the perfect plastic bag? When you've found the perfect bag? When you’re ransacking your medicine cabinet? When you’re on the way to CVS? When you’re counting the pills you want to swallow?
You call your doctor.
But what if your doctor doesn’t answer or you don’t like your doctor?
Call someone else.
If you need to, take yourself to the hospital or call 911. I heard those 911 people save lives, and if you’re in the Seattle area, Dr. McSteamy may be on duty or on call.
(maybe all his scrubs will be dirty and he won’t be wearing a shirt)
Exchange the “lethal amount of blank and blank ratio” google search for a suicide helpline search. Do this BEFORE you make the slit, or swallow what you shouldn’t, but if you make the slit or swallow what you shouldn’t, call 911. Right away. Shirtless Dr. McSteamy would say “STAT!" (another stellar example of all caps saving lives)
You may be fed up with this world,
but this world is not fed up with you.
This world needs you. This is something I know for certain.
NATIONAL SUCIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE
(hear those all caps saving a life right now?)
1.800.273.8255
International Helpline: Search by Country
BEFRIENDERS WORLDWIDE SUICIDE HELPLINE
You might feel like talking, you might not. You might feel like listening, you might not. You might want to sit, silently, with someone on the other end waiting, silently, just in case you decide there is something you would like to say.
The important part is to call.
But then what?
How do you move beyond it?
Beyond google?
Beyond the ache and the darkness?
I have spent over a decade trying to figure out how to describe this feeling. I can't seem to find the right words. If you can, share it with us. Understanding our feelings can make them less scary and this is scary shit. Especially the feeling with five words that starts with I, ends with myself, and has kill somewhere in the middle.
"Suicide Note" by Noredin Morgan
This feeling – it’s like getting the air sucked straight out of your lungs – except it’s your gut and it’s sucking everything. When I say everything, I mean everything.
Your breath.
Your organs.
Your ribs, your eyes, your tongue.
Your every thought.
Your every feeling.
Your every emotion.
Everything is sucked away. All that’s left is this aching…it’s either the darkest possible emotion, or the absence of every emotion. I’m not sure. Is it a black hole? It must be. How can a black hole ache? It does. This black hole aches. God does it ache. It’s a vacuum. It’s endless. And it doesn’t stop.
The void. The ache of this void.
How do you move beyond this endless void?
Can you? You can.
Guess what? The aching I was talking about that never stops…it does. It feels like it won’t. You feel it in your core it won’t, that it can’t, but then it does. It will. I promise.
You may be fed up with this world,
but this world is not fed up with you.
This world has a hell of a lot of beauty to fill your heart with. You need to be here to feel it. Life is worth the ride and you are worth riding it. Ride the hell out of it.
This world needs you. This is something I know for certain.
"The Suicide" by Edward Manett
When you wonder if anyone would miss you – don’t – because I will.
When you wonder if anyone loves you – don’t – because I do.
You may be fed up with this world,
but this world is not fed up with you.
This world needs you. This is something I know for certain.
You can move beyond it.
You can move beyond google.
You can move beyond the void.
What if it’s not you? What if the crazy person you love is talking about suicide? What if you “found them in time?” What if you didn’t?
The first thing I get to tell you is that it’s not your fault. Any of it. Regardless of what your loved one says or said. If there were
“warning signs” you didn’t notice, or take seriously, if you got into a fight.
Nope. None of it – it was not your fault.
It is not your fault anymore than it is their fault they are bipolar and have found themselves in such a dark place. What if their suicide note only has one sentence and the sentence is: “It’s your fault.” It’s still not. I promise. If you don’t believe me look it up in the book
The Joy of Being Bipolar: Everyday moods that destroy your day. Chapter 2:
When is it my fault? NEVER.
This chapter covers a lot of ground. It’s not your fault you’re crazy, it’s not your fault if you wake up in darkness, it’s not your fault if someone you love is crazy, it’s not your fault if someone you love wakes up in darkness, and no way in heaven or hell is it your fault someone attempted suicide regardless if it “worked” or not.
So what are the
warning signs?
Good old
NAMI always represents with a good list.
Okay – it’s too late for a warning sign because the warning has manifested into what we were warning about. Now what?
They are tiptoeing on the edge: Talk or listen or sit. Let them pick which one. You can call a suicide helpline to help you deal with the situation as well. Call 911 if you think it’s necessary. If it is serious enough that you are thinking “I wonder if I should call?” That means you should. If you have to, break down a door. Don’t threaten them with 911 or a trip to the ER, instead talk to them about it as a positive decision. This doesn’t, however, give up your right to call at any moment you feel necessary.
"Suicide" by Ralph Sirianni
They have fallen off the edge: Call 911. Now. Like Yesterday.
Look around – did they ingest something? Try your damn best to control any bleeding. If you have to, break down a door. Get your boyscout/brownies CPR badge? You may have to use it. Don’t have the badge? Those nice folks on 911 can talk you through it.
Yikes, this is sounding scary. Because it is.
If you have been there, I’ve been right there with you. One of the scariest hours of my life was 2am on a Wednesday, opening a picture text of my dear friend’s bloody wrists. He had few words other than, "I am in a bathtub in Chicago." If you have found yourself in this situation I understand your paralyzing fear. But we’ve got to hold it together for them.
If they are conscious, talk to them because it is scary for them too. In route to Seattle Grace Hospital, when EMTs are in control, this is when you can call the hospital to see if Dr. McSteamy is on duty, or on call, or having sex in the on call room. Calling now gives him enough time to take off his shirt.
"Butterfly Suicide" by Unknown
My sweet crazy friends, of course this feels
(a) helpless and (b) hopeless and (c) out of your control, but it’s
(d) none of the above.
What? Impossible. No, really it isn’t.
It’s possible because of CRAZY PILLS!
Hallelujah crazy pills! This is a time to celebrate all caps!
Crazy pills always save the day, right? Well…er…uh…
Can this happen to you when you are compliant? Can this happen to you if you go to your doctor’s appointments take all your crazy pills, and carry Zyprexa everywhere you go? Well…er…uh…
It can. It has been me. Little old compliant me. Do I want to curse Zeus for this unfairness? Yes. Of course. But it can always happen because we have a serious mental illness. I like to joke around about it because we have to joke around about it. It’s healthy and necessary to laugh and joke around and have a sense of humor about something serious, but that’s the kink; it is serious. That little hiccup called being crazy. That little hiccup called bipolar disorder.
"Suicide" by Tamunda Sirbiladze
But IF you go to your doctor’s appointments and IF you take all the crazy pills you should, chances are it’s not going to happen. See how all caps save lives? Thanks to crazy pills if it does happen it should happen less often and with less severity. And thanks to crazy pills if it does happen, more or different crazy pills should get the situation under control. If it is ever happening, at all, ever, it means your crazy pill potion isn’t just right and warrants a trip to your Dr. Crazy.
Sometimes they call it a cocktail to make it a little more exciting, and let’s admit, calling it a cocktail does make it a little more exciting, so let’s call it a cocktail, shall we?
The good news that saves the day: With the right cocktail this won’t happen. So, for the love of Apollo, I am going to say it again. Take your crazy pill cocktail and if your doctor wants to switch them around LISTEN!
You’ve seen it here first: all caps save lives.
That whole saving lives bit…it’s real…and it’s true…
This world’s not ready to let you go.
This is something I know for certain.
"The Survivor" by Janis Trane Jones
Until next time…
