Just when you think you are out of the woods, you reach a desert....

So my happy mood subsided and all hell broke lose.

It all started when my friend and I were talking on Wednesday night when we watch Glee together, and she said that whenever I get high like that I always "crash" afterward. This stuck like a pin in my brain. I was fixated on it...I couldn't shake it.

Thursday morning, I wake up and I don't feel as happy as I have been feeling and I feel sort of agitated. I begin to panic because I am thinking that this is it, the crash. I'll tell you what I did and why, plus the aftermath, but don't expect any logical reasoning for it.

I was filling my pill dispenser with my meds and I got to my anti-depressants which are orange, and instantly I thought that because they were the same colour as my new boots that it was a sign. It was the answer to my "crashing" problem. I was also eating yogurt and somehow I came to the conclusion that the combination of the yogurt and all my anti-depressants would stop the crash from happening and keep me happy. I took about 28 pills, 100mg each of Zoloft. Usually I take two a day.

Then I go about my day and end up calling my friend to see what she is doing and I end up telling her what I did, cause I was sort of proud for fixing the situation. She freaked and told me I had to go to the hospital asap. She couldn't take me because she had to go to work but she made me promise to go, so I did.

I've overdosed before but I don't remember any of those times because I was dissociating when it happened, so this was a very different experience from what I am used to. I got there and practically walked right in, not because it wasn't busy, but because they were afraid I would go into liver failure. I didn't have to get my stomach pumped but I did have to drink a thing of charcoal, which was horrid, and have an IV. They made me stay for observation for 24/hrs because apparently the half-life of this medication is long and it takes a while to clear the system. The charcoal absorbed all the medication pretty much, including my morning medications so by the afternoon I was going into withdrawals and felt ridiculously sick.

The Dr. told me that the amount I took was toxic and very dangerous but I was like, whatever. Apparently my blood results were fine and I didn't have any liver damage. What was the worst, everyone kept asking me why I did it and at the time I didn't really understand. I was pretty confused to have done it in the first place and because it wasn't the straight forward "I tried to kill myself" everyone had a lot of questions and I had very few answers.

Friday morning I was medically cleared to go home but I still had to talk to a psychiatrist. Coincidentally, my psychiatrist works at the hospital and happened to be the psychiatrist on call that day. So I was sent from the ER to the CDU (Clinical Decision Unit), an observation unit that holds people for up to 24 hrs instead of admitting them straight to the psych department. I was there for 4 hrs, in which time I made a "safety plan" for the next week, which my psychiatrist requested I do while I was waiting to be evaluated, and I talked to the nurse that was assigned to me. I was getting really frustrated because he was acting like I made this decision with reasoning that was logical and because I was sad and trying to kill myself...so he was saying things like "You have a choice, how is overdosing working for ya?". All I could think was, I didn't have a choice, this was the only option and I still believe that.

In the end I saw my psychiatrist and he decided that I was alright to go home. Little did he know that I lied A LOT in order to make sure I could go home. I told them that I just made a bad decision that "made sense at the time", when really I still believed that I did the right thing and I believed that I had succeeded in warding off the "crash" because I was still really happy. I wrote on my safety plan: new rule: no overdoses for any reason. period. even though I told myself that if it came down to it, I would do it again if I had to. I wasn't trying to blatantly lie, it was more I didn't know how to verbalize what I was feeling at the time. I was feeling very confused but stupidly happy.

I got out just after lunch around 1:00 and took the bus back home and napped for a few hours.

Strangest thing ever: On the way home on the bus this guy came on, only for a few stops, and he strikes up a conversation with me. He starts by complimenting my boots, which are orange and amazing, and then he begins to ask me things like "so what do you do for fun around here?"...I was so confused. I wasn't looking too hot after not showering for a few days and sleeping on curly hair, not to mention I wasn't wearing any makeup, but he asks me "so what's the best way to keep in touch?" I replied Facebook, because I didn't want to give him my number. So he pulls out a business card and gets off the bus. Soooo...I was picked up on the bus?? Bizarre...