Saturday, 17 March 2018

Mental Health

As some of you know Jill is in the hospital. She’s sitting in an ER hallway in the exact spot I was and the exact spot Jess was, while she waits for a room.

I know this is so hard for her, but I didn’t realize how hard this would be on me. Hello flashbacks. Hello wanting to scream at the top of my lungs. Hello depression creeping up.

I didn’t realize what PTSD really was, but it’s reliving your worst memories over and over again in your head. It’s seeing the worst that could happen and imagining it happening again and again. It’s torture.

I feel like there’s something wrong with me. That I make those I love and care for deepest so depressed and sick. 

I honestly can’t believe that I’m going through this again. I love Jill. More than words can even express. And I’m so scared I’m going to lose her. I can’t go through that again. It will kill me. I think it will literally kill me. And so I’m doing everything I can to fight for her to get a bed on a psychiatric unit. I refuse to have history repeat itself.

I said some pretty rude things to the psych resident and for that I am sorry, but I’m also not sorry because I meant them. I meant what I said when I told her that if they were to release Jill and she was to attempt or, God forbid, succeed, that it would be on them. Because I didn’t complain to the hospital when they released Jess and six days later she died. I didn’t want to ruin someone’s life. But you better believe that I would ruin someone’s life now if mine was to be demolished again.

I’m so angry. I’m so mad that we’re fighting for this. When someone says they aren’t safe at home you fucking keep them in the hospital you don’t say that they’d be better off at home. You tell them that they are staying in the hospital until they can feel better. Until they can cope. Until they can be functional again. You don’t fucking send them home.

I have shed so many tears over suicide. I have witnessed first hand what it does to families and friends. It fucks them up. I’ve been exposed to suicide since I was almost 16 years old. I’ve been depressed since I was 12. I’ve self harmed since I was 12 or 13. I know what a suicidal person looks like and I know that whether it be a cry for help or not you take them seriously. Because what if you’re wrong and you aid someone in killing themselves?

I am so devastated in our mental health system. They failed Jess, they failed me many times, and now they are actively trying to fail Jill. This is absolute bullshit.

So we sit. And we wait. Because that’s all you can do when you have a shit mental health system. And we hope and pray. Hope for a bed to open up soon. Pray for Jill to receive the help that she needs. Hope that I can get through this. And pray that Jill can get through this too.

Thursday, 25 January 2018

Hasn't Hit Me Yet

Not everyday is a good day.

Today started off a good day, but suddenly everything changed. I was getting ready to play video games this morning and relax until I got sleepy after working a night shift.

I was just listening to music when I "kinda lost my head."

I will never forget walking into the church while "Hasn't Hit Me Yet" played in the background. I almost broke down then, but I managed to hold it together. I held it together for the whole funeral. It wasn't until the pall bearers came to take her away that I lost it. I remember sobbing over the casket holding my brother and my brother holding me. The two of us just a mess.

I managed to speak at her funeral. That will always be one of my greatest accomplishments; making it through my speech without tears.

I remember before we started dating she sent me a text telling me that Blue Rodeo was one of her favourite bands and to listen to one of their songs; "Hasn't Hit Me Yet." I didn't appreciate that song then. I appreciate it now that she's gone.

I guess it just keeps hitting me, at the weirdest of times, that's she's gone.

I realized something yesterday; I have been without her longer than I was with her. We had our whole future ahead of us. We were supposed to be married and start a family.

We were together for almost two years and it's been just over two years since she died. I have been without her longer than I had been with her. That fact just keeps replaying in my head and I am so sad.

It just keeps hitting me that she's gone...

Wednesday, 10 January 2018

Better Days Are Not So Far Away

Working nights is hard. Staying up alone for your upcoming night shifts is harder. You're stuck with nothing but your thoughts and sometimes my thoughts aren't the best.

These past few nights, in between my cat naps, I've been left alone with video games, music, and my thoughts.

Lately the thoughts have have been intrusive. Lately my dreams have been intrusive. I keep having self harm dreams. I keep waking up craving a blade.

I just keep thinking of that new Hedley song, "Better Days."

"I've been down, I've been down
Burning up like fever
Better days, better days
Are not so far away
I've been lost, I've been found
Now I believe in
Better days, better days
Are not so far away"

And I realize that if I can overcome Jess' death, if I can overcome being hospitalized for my mental health, then I can overcome this too.

No matter how hard this gets, I know I can do this. For the past week I've fallen deeper into my depression. These dreams are not helping. I can see them so clearly and the pictures don't leave my head for hours after waking up.

But better days are not so far away.

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

I Cried Last Night

I cried last night. For the first time in, I think over a year, I broke down and sobbed for you. All I could think about was waking up alone to nothing but a suicide note. All I could think about was the police walking into the apartment to tell me they had found you and my body falling to the floor in grief. All I could think about was crying on the floor in my underwear when I found my Christmas gifts you had bought me.

All I could think about was you.

How you left me.

How you ended your life.

How you took a piece of me with you that day.

All I could think about was you.

Part of me is angry at you for ruining one day out of the year for me. Part of me is angry that you left without saying goodbye, because so much of me is sure that you didn't. Part of me is angry that you ever thought this was a good idea.

But at the same time I'm not angry at all. Because I understand the pain you were in. I understand why you left. I understand that this was the only option for you.

But fuck Jess, does it ever hurt. Like when you sprain a joint or break a bone. It hurts for so long and they give you medication to cover up the pain, but it only helps for a while. And after you heal it still aches and causes you to cry out in pain every now and again. That's what you did to my heart. You broke it.

You broke me. You broke me into nothing and I had to rebuild myself. From square one. Without the person I loved most in my life. You.

For the first time in over a year I cried for you. I laid in the bed and sobbed for you. My heart fixed, but never the same. But this time I had Jill to hold me and comfort me and tell me I was loved and that she wasn't leaving me.

I spent all day telling Jill that I loved her because I was so scared she was gonna leave me too and my heart would break again. Because you broke it so badly, you smashed it to pieces and it took a very long time for it to heal. I don't think it's even fully healed. I don't know if it ever will be.

I cried last night for you. I wish you were still here. Not as my lover, but as my friend. You were a great friend...

Rest easy my dear, and in a year I'll write to you again...

Wednesday, 1 November 2017

Upon Stumbling Across Her Picture

It's weird to see pictures of Jess. It's like I forgot what she looks like and now when I see a picture of her I ask myself; "Who is that I'm with?"

I'm not used to seeing myself with her anymore.

What used to be a reality is now just a faded memory.


I read a quote the other day, that went something along the lines of "just because you miss something, doesn't mean you have to want it back." And I took that to heart.

Just because I miss Jess and the life we had together doesn't mean I want it back.

I'm happier now, knowing she's at peace and my heart found love again. I'm happier now that I no longer fear her inevitable death.

Her inevitable death. Some may wonder why I use the word 'inevitable'. That's because since day one of mine and Jess' relationship, I knew about her severe depression and her suicidal ideation. I knew about her plans to take her life and I saw them in action over the course of our two year relationship. I knew from day one she would go by her hand, and her hand only.

And she did.

What used to be a reality is now just a faded memory.

Wednesday, 26 July 2017

To The One I Love

You're amazing. That's not the right word. There is no right word to describe you. You're fantastic. Hilarious. Intelligent. Stunningly beautiful. Your love never fails.

We met 2 years ago, our first meeting a blur. My first memory of you, however, never fails to make me laugh. Rhubarb will always make me think of you and I will never not laugh when we make strawberry rhubarb pie.

You treat me better than I've ever been treated. You know how to make me laugh harder than ever and you know how to stop my tears before they even come.

You do not know how immeasurable my love is for you.

I know you think you're the second choice, but you're not. You're my first choice, I just met you second. I'm sorry that I have a past and I'm sorry that you had to fall for me, the one with the fucked up back story. Please know that I love you just as much, if not more, than I loved her. I still miss her, sure, but as a friend rather than a lover. I'm sorry it had to be me you fell for.

You are my world. Please don't ever think otherwise. I need you in my life more than I think either of us realize. You are so much more to me than just a fiancée. You are my best friend. My other half. You are the mac to my cheese.

You are my soul mate.

I love you, more than words will ever describe.

Monday, 17 April 2017

Who Do You Love

"Well I've been deep in this sleeplessness
I don't know why
Just can't get away from myself
When I get back on my feet I'll blow this open wide
And carry me home in good health"

This was my theme song in the hospital.  "Who Do You Love" by Mariana's Trench.  Every time I hear it I think about wandering the unit at Alberta Hospital, every breath I took was one breath closer to being free.  Every step I took was one step closer to going home.

I couldn't get away from myself.  I was stuck in a deep depression.  One where I was hours away from taking my life.  I had a plan.  I had a note.  I had the means.  I had the place.  I knew who I was going to say goodbye to as I went.  I had it all figured out.  All I needed was the time to be right, and I had the right time.

24 hours before I could act, my best friend took me to the hospital.  I had no faith in my mental health system, and so I wrote "I Am Ill" that night.  I will never forget phoning my other best friend the following morning, crying, with the news that I was to be admitted.  I went voluntarily because I didn't think it would work.  I thought I would be out the next day and that I would be able to take my life anyway.

I spent a month in the hospital.  I cried, I yelled, I pushed my friends away in anger.  But I grew.  I grew up in the hospital.  I met people who were going through similar situations and I made friends in there.  I changed my meds and started feeling better.  I started laughing again and enjoying the little things.  I learned to not get angry at life when it didn't go my way.  I learned to apologize to those I had hurt.  I was a completely different person when they looked at me and said I was free to go.

I got back on my feet and blew it open wide.

I carried myself home in good health.