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Advice for the first anniversary of my suicide attempt

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Anniversaries don't mean a lot to me. However, I do feel the need for ceremony and feel the power in the actions of ceremony; I have marked a transition in my life with ceremony; or had a funeral for the loss of things that I never had for example. Just as your graduation ceremony marked an accomplishment. There may be a way to have your own personal ceremony, walking over a bridge, lighting a candle, wearing a special outfit and a small ceremony that transitions from the past to today. Writing out what you would want said at the ceremony that indicates your joy at receiving life, the hardship gone through, an expectancy of future good, and words of affirmation to the you who was suffering and the you today. It could be a homecoming of the warrior, or a graduation, or birthday party--- confetti, banners, cake & candles. Or it could be reflective and sacred. The ceremony would be meaningful to you and representive of your needs.

and I realize it is now the end of May, so perhaps it has passed. I hope you are well, feel safe and secure, and feel love.
 
Biggest heart-hugs and heart-thanks to all of you for your care and support and for just being such wonderful human beings in general.

I'm really sorry I disappeared like that.
I'm not really sure where to start about-me.
Probably first with, I'm alive. And second that, somehow, I am still SH clean.
Things got really really messy, though.

Probably should start back to the anniversary, as that was my first radio silence day.
I did make it up to watch the sunrise.
It was beautiful.
I didn't get a photo; there were some physical structures in the way from my vantage point that probably would have been too revealing about where I was.

The sky was so pink.
It was like everytime I closed my eyes and opened them again, more vibrant rose has appeared where once there was grey.

After that, things get blurry, but I think I went for a walk and ?maybe went to the gym. I made it home, though.
The rest of that day is also a blur; I think I spent most of it in bed.

The next day I was super dissociative.
I had T.
We did talk about my benzo stockpile. And that conversation, combined with her picking up that I really wasn't in a good frame of mind (though not to the point that I needed any acute emergency care), meant she told me she would need to tell GP about my benzos.

Yah.
I wasn't happy about it (UotD to me, thankyup).

That night, I woke up at 2.30am from a nightmare (not that unusual), finally got back to sleep, and then woke up from another at 3.30am. Did not get back to sleep after that one.

Grief of my grandfather's passing, the stress from my attempt anniversary, complete mental wtfo about my recent repressed memory bubble pop about the physical assault during my abuse, combined with having my control taken away by T (I can see, now, why she had to tell GP), and the sleep deprivation... hit hard. Real hard.

I had an appt with GP later that morning. Ended up staying at the medical centre for 3 hours for observation, and be seen by a second GP.
Not a lot of memories from that either. Other than GP telling me that she was concerned. Random snippets of conversations without context. And at one stage me being in a recovery room by myself waiting for GP come back to see me and plotting my escape from the medical centre. Either through the window or the main door avoiding people who might have seen me and realised.

Very nearly did it. But I guess part of me must have realised that it wasn't the best idea as we don't have the best track record of trying to escape through windows, and going via a door meant crossing through the main corridor frequented by doctors/nurses/Ts, and through a packed waiting room, and past the reception area.

I made it home on that day too, though.

Then isolated from basically everyone; GPs, T, inclusive.

Memory from unknown day of walking outside in the dark and feeling alive from the adrenaline of the situation.

And now, here, sitting on the edge of an unmade bed that I really should make.
Felt the overwhelming need to throw my empty water glass at the wall. Anger about something university-related. Along the same lines of the bullshit I've been put through.

I didn't, though.
Throw the glass, I mean.
I sent T an email with the report that angered me, and she said she'll read over it this evening and we can talk it through.

Talking.

I've missed talking.

I've missed here.
I've missed you.
 
So happy you are back! I was worried -- which means I'll be fussing at you at some random point in the future once you are feeling back to normal! :hug:

I'm so sad it was tough, but I'm so very proud of you for how you handled it. I mean, no SH, you stayed put in the hospital and you talked to your T and the GPs!!!! That shows you how far you have come over the last year. You did good :hug:
 
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