I took my medication as usual on Friday evening, it was the last of the pack. I searched for my next pack so I would be prepared for the next day but I couldn’t find it. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to get any more until Monday, I tried not to think about it. I had missed days here and there before on previous anti depressants, I was sure I would be fine.
I woke Monday morning and felt odd, I had had an awful nights sleep where I had felt constantly nauseous. My heart started to race as I felt the saliva build in my mouth. I gulped and lay still, hoping that if I didn’t move, I wouldn’t vomit. My head pounding, I managed to make it to the bathroom before it happened. Assuming I had the sickness bug going around, I contacted a friend to pick up the kids and booked them both in for nursery all day.
I slumped back to bed to try and get some rest.
I woke to my duvet being pushed on top of me, I struggled to breath, I could feel a strong weight on top of me that I couldn’t fight off. I lost consciousness.
But I hadn’t. What I was actually starting to experience was a series of psychotic hallucinations due to withdrawal from my high dose anti anxiety and depression medication.
I woke again, this time because the front door had opened. My husband walked up the stairs and stroked my hair, he told me everything was going to be okay. I tried to hug him but he then laughed and walked away.
I was now out of bed, looking through my window as there was someone outside. He told me he wanted to come in to fix my windows. I didn’t remember my husband telling me this was happening, I walked to the front door and he tried to push it open, I ran upstairs and hid under the covers.
I continued to have hallucinations such as this, from friends visiting to more strangers trying to attack me, throughout the day until eventually I woke ‘properly’. I realised it was time to pick up my children so tried to drag myself out of bed. I sat in front of my bedroom mirror but could see three of me.
My head pounded as the lights flickered, suddenly I wasn’t in my own body. I saw myself walk upstairs and take the biggest knife out of the kitchen drawer, pull up my sleeves and slit my wrists. Laughing as the blood drained from my body.
I snapped back and burst into tears. I furiously checked my wrists to confirm it wasn’t real. I lay down to try and calm my breathing when I heard a voice telling me to do it.
“They are all better off without you.”
I felt like I was fighting with myself as I found my found and called the mental health team number I had been given. There was no answer so I called the Doctors surgery. I purely told them I needed to see a Doctor about my mental health and they told me to go up right away.
Exhausted, I signed in and asked if I could sit in the side room. I slumped onto the floor and burst into tears again. My heart felt like it was outside my body. My brain felt like it was on fire, thumping so hard I could feel the vibrations in my ears.
I tried to fight as the urges inside me tried to find a way to kill myself using objects in the room. Maybe the string that attached the pen to the blood pressure machine. No. I took the pen apart to distract myself. I stole the spring inside the pen then put it back together.
I still don’t know why I did this.
I was taken into the Doctors room and again chose to sit on the floor. She called the Crisis team who agreed to see me at 6pm. We agreed it would be best to meet at the Doctors surgery so the children wouldn’t see me in that state. Until then, I was locked in the same room. I don’t remember if I asked to be locked in or if it was done for my safety.
A friend came and stayed with me so I wasn’t alone.
They came and were concerned, but not enough to have me admitted. Gave me my medication and made a plan to see me the following morning.
I felt drunk. In a complete daze, exhausted and shaky.
I still can’t believe I went from completely fine to psychotic in such a short space of time. The previous day I had been absolutely fine, spending time with old friends as we went for a walk. The day before that I had had a brilliant time with friends and family at the local carnival.
It’s mind blowing how I could change so instantly.
It’s scary to think if I hadn’t fought with myself, I may not be telling this story right now.
I went to Tescos on my own tonight. We’ve been needing to do a shop all week and I wanted some time to myself to process everything that has happened over the past 24 hours.
I walked the aisles and felt confused. How had I been in such a crisis, not even 24 hours prior, and now here I was buying items for the kids school lunches.
I looked around. As far as anyone could tell, I was just a normal person, doing the weekly shop. I engaged in polite conversation with the cashier. I joked with the bus driver.
Just a normal person, doing normal things, who nearly committed suicide the day before.
Who, just three months ago, could say I had never harmed myself or experienced suicidal thoughts.
Who, just weeks ago, had cried tears of joy after a psychiatrist told me I’d be better in time for Christmas.
Who, just days ago, posted on social media to celebrate how well I was doing.
Who, only the night before, text my brother to tell him about my fantastic weekend, as I truly felt happy.
It can happen to anyone.