The Most Liberating Sort of Euphoria

In the last 5 years, I’ve been hospitalized 8 times due to my mental illness and/or substance abuse. And you know what? That is nothing to be ashamed about. Every time you were sick over the last 5 years, you probably went to the hospital, too.

There is nothing wrong with getting help and for those of you in recovery, there is nothing wrong with admitting that you need to reset your sobriety date.

Thank you to everyone who has loved and supported me through yet another suicide attempt. I know that it isn’t easy. My biggest fear is that you all will see me differently now–that the people who once saw me as beautiful, positive, and worthy now see me as someone toxic, tarnished, and broken.

That is not how I want to be seen. That is not who I am.

Part of me wants to apologize, but I also need to be gentle with myself. I live with severe mental illness and it is beyond difficult at times. I’m still learning how to live with it well. I chose to relapse on Sunday, which lead to me wanting to end my life.

This is why substances and I cannot coexist. Point blank.

I’m grateful that I was able to spend the last couple of days in the hospital. It gave me some time to stabilize myself and reorient my head-space for recovery. All I can do is pick myself up, rework my recovery plan, and keep moving forward. Just by writing on this website again, I’ve already started walking out this new plan and I am hoping for the best, one day at a time.

To be honest, I really don’t want to talk to many people and I don’t want to pretend as if everything is fine. Because clearly, it isn’t. The morning after my overdose, I thought that I was ready to go home, because the weight of what I had done hadn’t hit me yet. It wasn’t until I was transferred to a behavioral health center that I realized that I had tried to end my life.

If I had succeeded, there wouldn’t have been any coming back from that.

I’m sorry if I seem distant or out of it for the next few days or weeks. I truly am trying to be positive and pursue my recovery with all that I am. My recovery is a garden and I know that if I harvest it well, I will experience a blossoming. I just need more time to process the fact that for a moment, I thought my existence would be over and that I wouldn’t have to continue on.

The morbid truth is this: that thought came with the most liberating sort of euphoria I have ever experienced and now it’s gone.

No, I didn’t ask to be born. None of us did. Yet, here we are.
Good luck, ladies and gentlemen.

With hope,

“You are going to start again. I know you and you’re going to keep moving forward.”
-Michael Reaves

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