A few pills too many
Friday 17th November 2017 (6.44pm)
Though this is dated last Friday, this first paragraph (and last) in bold italics is the here and now (Sunday 19th November, 7.02pm). I have been undecided as to whether this was going to go public but I thought that I would remain honest and true to myself and all of you who have read and supported me. What follows was not easy to write. Things are still very raw. Even looking at it now I don’t believe that this was actually me. I am not writing this out of sympathy or attention. It is simply to provide the cold hard facts of what it looks like and means to suffer from a depressive illness.
I have spent today in A&E. Yesterday was not a great day. I cannot put my finger as to why or even if anything had happened as I do not know. This may become apparent as I write. Early morning I was hit with reality about my diagnosis and my future as a Police officer. In the afternoon, I found out that I had been extended on half pay until the end of the month but as of December I would be on zero pay. This was hard to take considering my illness is preventing me from working. Rock and hard place comes to mind. I know rules are rules. I have been stressed about this over the last few days and as such my head has not stopped hurting since Tuesday.
I took Olly out on a nice walk late afternoon, came home and gave him his dinner. I was not hungry but made myself have something to eat. At about 7.15 I decided to take 2 paracetamol for my bad head. I then thought, I will take 2 more, then another 2, then another 2, then another 2 … then my phone rang and I saw the name of the Consultant Psychiatrist who assessed me through work a few weeks ago. I wanted to speak to him so I answered my phone. Something I had not been doing recently to friends. I realised that I had been sitting on the kitchen floor, Olly was jumping over me licking my face. It was like the Psychiatrist knew what was going on. It frightens me to think what may have happened had my phone not rang. I told him what I had just done. He advised me to go to hospital as I would need blood tests to check for liver damage and drug levels. This really shit me up. I did not realise that taking the amount I did on the bounce could cause such damage (I know the pack says no more than 8 in 24 hours, I took more than that within 30 seconds). I did not see this as an overdose, yet it was. I did not want to go that night. I thought nothing would be wrong with me as I am fit and healthy. I reasoned with the Psychiatrist, and promised that I would go to A&E Friday morning.
Today, I woke up early and had a nice walk down the beach with Olly. As promised, I went to A&E. I arrived by 10am and got triaged and assessed quickly. I had an ECG and a number of blood tests taken. At 10.29am, my phone rang. It was a friend from work who I have not wanted to speak to recently. For no other reason, than not being able to or wanting to ‘people’. I was sat in a waiting room, my phone was on silent, yet I could see who was calling on my Garmin. Something made me answer the phone. All I could say was that I was in hospital and that I was ok. I was then called by the Doctor. Within 35 minutes, 2 of my friends were sitting with me in the waiting room.
I felt like I should not have been there, like I was wasting NHS time. There were people there with serious injuries and illness and I was there as I had been an idiot. I wanted to leave. I felt ok, but before I could be discharged, blood drug levels, liver function and clotting had to be checked. This is where the wait came in. At 3pm I was allowed to leave, as I was going to discharge myself. Physically I was fine. Mentally… well, that is work in progress. The Dr had spoken to someone in the Psych team and were happy that I had enough support around me. My friends stayed with me.
I do not want to die. Things are shit at the moment but I have lots to look forward to. This was just a blip, a moment of irrational behaviour, a moment of stupidity. I sit here now typing this and I look at Olly my little dog who is asleep. I think of the joy and love that he has bought to my life. We are a tag team and it upsets me what I did last night whilst he was looking up at me.
I toyed whether to tell my fellow Mind Over Marathon runners in our Whats App group. I decided to text the group to say what a fuckwit I had been. The support I have had has been amazing. What would I do without this fantastic group of people in my life? My line management are aware and my Fed Rep. Support has been offered, but over the next few days I want to shut away, go walking with Olly, watch crap TV and eat my body weight in chocolate.
This afternoon I was supposed to attend CBT, obviously that has not happened.
On Monday night I was at the Odeon in Leicester Square receiving an award from Prince Harry for ‘speaking out’. I can speak out all day about the importance of speaking out and asking for help, but when it comes to myself I seem to be pretty rubbish! I will talk about my amazing night in a different blog as that is for happier times.
Back to the here and now (Sunday 7.14pm). It has been a difficult few days. I have shut off from lots of things and I have not wanted to do anything, so I haven’t. I suppose I am still trying to process what has happened. I am grateful for Olly as yesterday and today we have been on a few nice walks. Friends who know have messaged to check up on me and I met ‘A’ at Costa. Tomorrow is a new week. I have things planned. On Wednesday I turn 43 (gulp). Thursday is a day of appointments and of course I am hoping to get to the gym; something which I have not felt like doing over the last couple of days. I will be fine, I know I will 🙂 x