The End?

I'm not depressed, the combination of drugs sees to that. On Sunday, 25th July, it will be 3yrs since my best friend killed herself. I knew she had that plan in mind, she never told me which date it was going to be or anything but she made it very clear that she knew what she was going to do.

She had a very long standing mental illness, she self-harmed in horrific ways and as a result had to get a number of skin grafts to fix 3rd degree burns.

After being prescribed antidepressants she began to feel that her ability to function was being impaired and it frustrated her immensely. Eventually she got put on repeat prescriptions and could just order more as and when. That was the beginning of the end.

She weaned herself off the drugs but kept ordering prescriptions on the right dates so no suspicion was raised. When doing that she was stockpiling the tablets which were an old and toxic tricyclic antidepressant known to be fatal in overdose.

I begged her to go and try to get help from the CMHT and the day before she died she consented and went to see them. For some reason they didn't recognise the level of her distress so they sent her home telling her that they'd arrange an appointment with her psychiatrist and she'd be sent a letter.

That night she was active online, she left various messages but none that even hinted at what she was going to do. It turned out that the very last one she sent was to me. Of course with hindsight I can see clearly that it was goodbye but at the time it never read like that.

Events get hazy after this but at some point on the 25th July she made herself comfortable on the sofa, covered herself with a blanket and necked all of the pills. They estimated that she had taken approximately 5mths worth in one go. Enough to kill her quite a few times over. The PM report said she could not have ingested any less than 17g of the drug.

That figure even scared me a little bit.


I'm jealous of her, she's got peace and freedom. Her torments ended that day and her soul soared to Heaven. I miss her, wish I could have her back. But, deep down I know and accept that her life was always going to end in that way and if it hadn't been then it would have been another day.



I love you, I hope you know that. Sing with the angels.


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Stumble & Fall

Things are slowly but surely getting worse. They can't be that bad yet though because I can see it happening. I am a great advocate of keeping an eye on my signs/symptoms and making sure I at least try to get something done before things go totally wrong. This is only true of my mental health, I'm not so quick about physical health. I admit to being somewhat bored of all the medical things going on in my life, I really hate getting this much attention focused on me, sometimes I wish that I could just be left alone. But, if I am seen to be 'refusing treatment' then I know very well that I would be risking getting put under a CTO...definitely don't want that.

What irks me slightly about treatment refusal is that I am under the impression that if I didn't have any mental illness I would probably be allowed to put my foot down and tell my medical squad not to do anymore.

The difference between physical and mental health for me is all about other people. I wouldn't be in any danger of potentially hurting another person or acting in an inappropriate way if I said that I don't want any more interventions. However, if I turned around and refused all of my mental med's there *could* be a risk of my behaving in a dangerous or inappropriate manner. I wouldn't want to cause hurt or pain (emotional or physical) to anybody other than myself.

It can be a tricky balance of doing what's right for everyone else and doing what's right for me. At the moment doing right by others is the important thing.
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