Wall of text incoming, so you don't have to read it if you don't want to.
After about 3 years of trying to deal with my anxiety/depression, it seems I have reached a bit of a breaking point. I am going to try to justify what I did first, even though I know how stupid it was of me. Okay then...
I've been missing a ton of school lately and I've really been feeling the pressure of it. I get very agitated and anxious in the morning before school. I'm fighting myself every second to try not to stay home, but that hardly ever turns out well. Recently, I've really started hating myself for feeling like I've disappointed a lot of people. I think what put me over the edge was finding out that I was ineligible to compete in Solo and Ensemble competition for band due to my low grades. I put so much hard work into the piece I was going to play. It was going to be the first thing I had done to be proud of in a long while, and it was also a chance to not disappoint my band teachers and instructors, but I blew it. I started feeling extremely lonely at this point. The very few times I wanted to talk to someone, no one was around. I found it extremely difficult to talk to my mom. I refused to tell any of my friends (they still believe I get sick easily
). At first, I felt comfort in talking to my school counselor. However, my mom mentioned that my counselor had told her she didn't have time for me, and I felt like an idiot. Everyone from school didn't seem to care about me personally. They were only concerned about me getting to school. I had absolutely no idea what to do.
After a couple days of me taking a bit more muscle relaxing medication than I should have, my mom took me to the doctor and I was prescribed Zoloft. When I got home, I went to my room and started to think. Nothing was changing in my life. It was this horrible cycle of me getting depressed, getting help, improving my attitude, promising I would stay that way, then getting depressed again. I had to do something. I had to find the motivation to get better. I started getting this idea that the only way I would find the motivation was if I hit rock bottom, or at least pretty close. My way of achieving this was to purposely overdose on my Zoloft medication. I wasn't hysterical when I was thinking this either. I thought this through, about everything. I knew what the consequences might be, I knew I was going to worry my family, and that I was probably going to be in pretty deep trouble with the school. I thought about it all night, and decided I was going to do it for sure.
I didn't want to do it too early, because I knew I had to get some work done in at least some of my classes. I purposely stalled for time in the morning, so that I could be late to school. When I was ready to leave, I took a deep breath, and took all 30 of my Zoloft pills, and took the empty bottle with me. I actually wanted it to affect me before I went straight to the nurse. I didn't feel sick for awhile, except for an ugly feeling of 30 little pills in an empty stomach. About two and a half hours later, I began feeling a bit on edge, and every time I yawned, it left this feeling of wanting to throw up. I went to the nurse, told them what I did, and gave them the empty bottle. They quickly put me on a bed and they started monitoring my pulse. After the principal and counselors came in and had a security guard question me for why I overdosed, the ambulance had arrived and I was taken to the hospital. After they questioned me, my mom arrived, and she had this piercing look that was uncomfortably between worried and pissed off. I finally was able to open myself up to her and started talking her. After I fell asleep for a bit, my mom woke me up because my dad arrived. I hadn't seem him in awhile so I was extremely happy to see him, and I finally opened up to him, too. The doctors had decided that they couldn't pump my stomach, so they were going to have to monitor me while my body took care of it. I now wished they had pumped my stomach. My whole body was trembling uncontrollably, including my jaw which caused me to bite my tongue quite a bit, and lots of rapid eye blinking. I actually laugh about it now but I had really started to space out, and I was freaking out because things were becoming "too real".
Anyways, here's where I need advice. While I was at the hospital, options came up with how to treat me after I was released. Basically the two options are to have me hospitalized for 3 days to a week, where they would have me medicated and have people talking to me and counseling me. The 2nd option is to have me go about my normal life, but I would be monitored and I would be counseled when I got home. I was thinking about being hospitalized, but a lot of my family talked to me, and they really want me to overcome this without medication. I actually want to do this without medication, but I'm not sure if I can. I'm also reluctant about the counseling at home. I want to be taken out of my life for a bit which the hospitalization does, but I would feel guilty and weak for having to resort to medication, and I would be disappointed in myself for not overcoming this with my own strength. After everything I have done, I can't afford to fail again. Thoughts?
After about 3 years of trying to deal with my anxiety/depression, it seems I have reached a bit of a breaking point. I am going to try to justify what I did first, even though I know how stupid it was of me. Okay then...
I've been missing a ton of school lately and I've really been feeling the pressure of it. I get very agitated and anxious in the morning before school. I'm fighting myself every second to try not to stay home, but that hardly ever turns out well. Recently, I've really started hating myself for feeling like I've disappointed a lot of people. I think what put me over the edge was finding out that I was ineligible to compete in Solo and Ensemble competition for band due to my low grades. I put so much hard work into the piece I was going to play. It was going to be the first thing I had done to be proud of in a long while, and it was also a chance to not disappoint my band teachers and instructors, but I blew it. I started feeling extremely lonely at this point. The very few times I wanted to talk to someone, no one was around. I found it extremely difficult to talk to my mom. I refused to tell any of my friends (they still believe I get sick easily
). At first, I felt comfort in talking to my school counselor. However, my mom mentioned that my counselor had told her she didn't have time for me, and I felt like an idiot. Everyone from school didn't seem to care about me personally. They were only concerned about me getting to school. I had absolutely no idea what to do.After a couple days of me taking a bit more muscle relaxing medication than I should have, my mom took me to the doctor and I was prescribed Zoloft. When I got home, I went to my room and started to think. Nothing was changing in my life. It was this horrible cycle of me getting depressed, getting help, improving my attitude, promising I would stay that way, then getting depressed again. I had to do something. I had to find the motivation to get better. I started getting this idea that the only way I would find the motivation was if I hit rock bottom, or at least pretty close. My way of achieving this was to purposely overdose on my Zoloft medication. I wasn't hysterical when I was thinking this either. I thought this through, about everything. I knew what the consequences might be, I knew I was going to worry my family, and that I was probably going to be in pretty deep trouble with the school. I thought about it all night, and decided I was going to do it for sure.
I didn't want to do it too early, because I knew I had to get some work done in at least some of my classes. I purposely stalled for time in the morning, so that I could be late to school. When I was ready to leave, I took a deep breath, and took all 30 of my Zoloft pills, and took the empty bottle with me. I actually wanted it to affect me before I went straight to the nurse. I didn't feel sick for awhile, except for an ugly feeling of 30 little pills in an empty stomach. About two and a half hours later, I began feeling a bit on edge, and every time I yawned, it left this feeling of wanting to throw up. I went to the nurse, told them what I did, and gave them the empty bottle. They quickly put me on a bed and they started monitoring my pulse. After the principal and counselors came in and had a security guard question me for why I overdosed, the ambulance had arrived and I was taken to the hospital. After they questioned me, my mom arrived, and she had this piercing look that was uncomfortably between worried and pissed off. I finally was able to open myself up to her and started talking her. After I fell asleep for a bit, my mom woke me up because my dad arrived. I hadn't seem him in awhile so I was extremely happy to see him, and I finally opened up to him, too. The doctors had decided that they couldn't pump my stomach, so they were going to have to monitor me while my body took care of it. I now wished they had pumped my stomach. My whole body was trembling uncontrollably, including my jaw which caused me to bite my tongue quite a bit, and lots of rapid eye blinking. I actually laugh about it now but I had really started to space out, and I was freaking out because things were becoming "too real".
Anyways, here's where I need advice. While I was at the hospital, options came up with how to treat me after I was released. Basically the two options are to have me hospitalized for 3 days to a week, where they would have me medicated and have people talking to me and counseling me. The 2nd option is to have me go about my normal life, but I would be monitored and I would be counseled when I got home. I was thinking about being hospitalized, but a lot of my family talked to me, and they really want me to overcome this without medication. I actually want to do this without medication, but I'm not sure if I can. I'm also reluctant about the counseling at home. I want to be taken out of my life for a bit which the hospitalization does, but I would feel guilty and weak for having to resort to medication, and I would be disappointed in myself for not overcoming this with my own strength. After everything I have done, I can't afford to fail again. Thoughts?
