Last week was bad. I know what the problem was. I’m depressed and I lost hope. Hope is the key to fighting depression. The hope that it will one day get better, the hope that this black cloud that gets progressively darker will eventually pass. The hope that this, I, my life can and will get better was snatched from me.
I’m sorry to admit it to you guys as I try to be a beacon of hope for those struggling but I tried two nights in a row to take my own life. I was admitted to hospital and again I tried to take my life and at the time- to my dismay- it didn’t work out.
It made me think that perhaps it’s not supposed to be. I’m not supposed to die but that wasn’t enough. I needed to die. I saw the Dr today though and he gave me hope in that my meds have been increased. My antipsychotic is used as a mood stabiliser and my anti depressant is also being increased. This gives me hope. I don’t like that I rely on medication as a crutch but I have come to a place where I can admit and accept the help of medication to help me manage my conditions.
It seems so simple but it’s given me hope that maybe something inside me might change. It’s something else to try. Something new to help me- and that is something to be hopeful for.