I still feel embarrassed and a failure, and really it is not something I want to talk about or make public in a big way but in the words of Faithless, this is where I heal my hurts so it feels a little wrong to never mention the fact that I lost my battle with suicidal thoughts and took an overdose.
I am in the middle of the consequences of that decision, people were hurt, and I have to deal with the unexpected reactions of others feeling they failed me, and that they let me down when I expected anger, resentment and very much the label of selfish. Selfish is a word I have used but no one else, instead there has been genuine concern about what got me to the point that, as I call it, I ran out of cope.
On the one hand, the physical pain was huge and debilitating, and the prospect of that not changing appeared very real. All I could see was decline. On the other, I am officially disabled, dealing with the permanent effects of the events of the last two years and the medical consequences and more precisely the permanent cognitive effects and physical impairments I am left with.
Yet, I am embarrassed by the fact I lost and failed, professionals and friends alike tell me that I neither lost or failed and that I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.