Fear · Health · HELL · Multiple Sclerosis · PAIN · Primary Progressive MS · Ramblings · Strength

Suicide – It’s Time We Talk!

The dreaded “S” word. Weak, selfish, going to hell for eternal damnation… just some of the things you ‘hear’ when the word suicide comes up. None of those things are true when we talk about suicide. And we need to talk about it. A person who commits suicide is no more weak than you or I. A person who commits suicide is no more selfish than you or I. As for going to hell for eternal damnation, well, if you believe that I feel very sorry for you.

There are two things I know about writing this blog. First is that I am not a writer. I was a Business Major, no English for me. Well you know what I mean. The second thing is that I’m afraid. I am afraid of what people may think of me. But I’m also empowered, and that’s what I’m feeling by writing this blog. The people who try to or do commit suicide are in the depths of despair. They are drowning in the abyss of whatever pain has brought to their life. They feel a burden to all those they love around them and they want to try and make it better for them. In their minds they believe that by not being there that their loved ones will be inevitably happier. And yes, they want to stop their endless pain, whatever that may be. I am sure there are some reading this thinking, “What does she know about it, how can she make these statements.”  Well you see, on Mother’s Day, I tried committing suicide. And if I’m being completely honest, this wasn’t my first rodeo. So yes, it’s time we talk.

The total despair started on Friday. I’m not sure where it came from I just felt so lost and so much of a burden to my family. So I overmedicated a little bit on Friday then a little more on Saturday and on Sunday well… Monday is completely lost to me. Tuesday the vomiting started. I wasn’t sure what was happening. You see I don’t remember much of what I did I just remember looking over at my medication and realizing that 2/3 of the bottle was gone. there were over 120 pills in that bottle. So then I started piecing together what happened. The moment my daughter came in the room to comfort me as I was vomiting, was my literal wake up call. I was mortified. Then I realized it was my husband and my 27th wedding anniversary on the 8th, that I had completely forgotten about. WTF!! 

To my family it was a normal weekend with mom basically sleeping. So they had no idea what was happening. Back at the moment my daughter came in the room I realized it was time to talk. I told my husband what I thought was happening to me and that I needed help. I called my mom and told her what was going on. To my complete surprise I had called her and told her I was going to do something. She had immediately called my husband and he checked on me but he had no idea about my medication. And because sleep is my only freedom my family doesn’t try and wake me up when I am sleeping. I’m pretty sure that will change now. 😊  I guess I told her that I was writing letters to my family. And again, to my complete surprise, there were some notes on my phone. I will fast forward a little bit to Wednesday at around 5 PM. After 🤮 for two days straight and not sleeping I knew it was time to go to the hospital and get some real help. Help to stop vomiting and some mental health care help. So I made the call to 911 and went on my way to Antelope Valley Hospital.

Now here’s where the story gets, well I hate using the word but, crazy.  I arrived at the hospital anywhere between 5 – 7 PM. Time was not something I was paying attention to. The ambulance was AMR. I’m mentioning this because that’s when more despair hit as I realized I will have to fight tooth and nail with my insurance company for this trip. They do not offer ambulance service. The reason is because the companies won’t take the insurance because Independence Blue Cross does not pay, go figure. Now I’m at the hospital and a quick little story… I am on a bed in the hallway. There is a nurse using a rolling computer with no gloves, no mask, touching her face leaning on her hands etc. I was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out and tell me that I just got punked!  Everyone and their mother, including myself, were wearing masks. I guess she thought she was special. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I finally get brought into the little intake room. The doctor came in and he was very pleasant. The nurse came in and she accessed my port and got anti-nausea medication started. I had a lovely little roommate at first. A 93-year-old mom of 5. She was just the sweetest little thing. She made the first part of my stay bearable. She was telling me her stories as I was vomiting into my bag. And as weird as that sounds, it was comforting and I wasn’t as scared. Finally the medication took affect. My little friend was being taken up to her room. Before she left she told me how she was 93 and she’s never been sick in her life, so why now. I explained that she’s level 93 and she’s just in for a reboot for her next 93 years. She seemed to enjoy that.

The next person brought into this tiny little room with me was an older gentleman. At that time my anxiety started. By this point I was no longer vomiting but I was having an anxiety attack. I was offered Ativan which gave me my only real relief of the evening. I was told I would be taken to an area to be observed. Basically this area was the hospital’s mental ward. Then I arrived at the green mile, my name for the green section of the hospital. I saw no psych doctor. I did speak with a psych nurse. Of course they asked me why I was there and then asked if I felt suicidal at that moment. I explained I feel suicidal pretty much every moment because of my situation, but at that exact moment in time, no. Then they asked if I felt suicidal at that moment in time how would I do it. I basically said, umm I am in the hospital now so I’ll probably grab a syringe and poke my eye out. I don’t know. 

During this time other patients are coming in. Homeless patients saying they were suicidal and/or could possibly hurt someone. I know they were homeless because people were “talking”. One person was discharged and was very upset because I guess he had nowhere to go. He then showed back up because he went and got readmitted. Seriously. Pretty smart as he/they really know how to work the system. It was just a very surreal eye-opening experience for me. As for me, at 3:51 AM I was told I was being sent home because there was no real risk with me. I can’t even begin to tell you the look on my face but I’m sure you probably know. 😳

You see I’m not on Medi-Cal through my disability. I use Independence Blue Cross through my husband’s work. They don’t pay so hospitals don’t want me. Read that again, because that’s exactly it. Now if I had been a wealthy person with a good insurance, I would’ve been put on hold. If I’d had been homeless person or someone at poverty level on government insurance I would’ve been put on hold. But I’m a nobody with crappy private insurance so I was kicked to the curb. At 5:42 AM the ambulance arrived to take me back home. They were trying to figure out who is going to pay for it. I explained to just get the ambulance that I would have to deal with my insurance company after the fact. You see there’s no way for people like me to get transport to and from hospitals with Independence Blue Cross. and, they are “out of state” so it’s at an out of network rate. So I have to appeal every single time for an in network rate. This is NOT what should be happening in the United States of America with private insurance or any insurance! 

So now, I am home. The only thing that was accomplished was I found out I have an awful bladder infection. I already knew that, bladder stones. Duh!! They gave me no mental health care help. I had to ask for mental health care resources. I got two pieces of paper with some phone numbers.  I tried to kill myself and that was the help I got. Going through the two days of hell vomiting continuously woke me up. Does that mean I will never try to hurt myself again? I don’t know. But now it’s no longer a secret. Now it’s no longer the elephant in the room. Now I can call out for help because those that love me know what I’m going through. 

I have a video call with my neurologist on Tuesday. I will be making video call appointments with my other doctors today for next week. I’m not going to be complacent anymore and allow this kind of treatment. I’m going to fight for my life and my health and my family. I’m afraid every day. I have feelings of ending my life every day. But now, after this time, I believe I will choose life every time. Can I say that with 100% certainty? No, of course not. But I will do my best to always choose life.

Have courage and be kind.

Fear · Hope

What if…

I cannot sleep. Hubby is sleeping peacefully beside me softly breathing. I am sitting here with thoughts flying all over the place. What if  the medication doesn’t work? What if it makes me sick? What if I get the bad side effects? Then back to, what if it doesn’t work? I have waited for so long to find something to help me. I hate my wheelchair, I hate my non-working body. I hate MS!!! What if it doesn’t work? I’m so scared right now. I’m not expecting a miracle as those do not happen to me. I try to remain strong, be positive, keep smiling, hide the real pain. I’m afraid what it will do to my psyche if it doesn’t work. Will I find the inner strength like I always do, or will this be where I finally say no more? What if it doesn’t work and they cannot find anything else for me? What if by the time they do I am too far along in my disease?

This is an overwhelming feeling for me to be so full of fear regarding myself. I usually can put on the happy, silly, sarcastic Tracy face and keep on plugging along. But this, this is a huge breakthrough right now regarding walking for those with MS. I’m not complaining, I’m scared. I have a roof over my head, my hubby has a job, my kids are taken care, so I’m not complaining. I’m just scared.

What if...

It’s almost midnight here and my back is burning in pain, I can’t sleep as way too many thoughts are floating around in my head. My back pain will subside thanks to my meds, so I’m not complaining. I’m just scared.

I want to walk again so bad I can taste it. I know I cannot expect it to happen fully for me as my legs are pretty much useless, but even some strength back would suffice. OK!! Bullshit, I want it all back, but I have to be realistic. I’ll still have the fatigue, degenerative disc disorder, tremors, weakness, migraines, and all the rest of the joy that is MS. Even a little leg strength will help. Right? Then I think will walking even matter? I do not remember how and with my hyper-extended knee will I be able to? Shit, I need to stop over thinking don’t I?

I guess tomorrow, err today is another day…

Blessings and Hope!


Memories of a love lost…

They were apart, it was her doing. Come back she cried. No, he was through. Her insecurities and cruel comments were too much to take. He tried to understand, but it was over…this time. She could not breathe. How could she live without him in her life? How could she show him it would be different? She was so scared, scared he would leave her so she figured she’d be cruel. That it was her making him go. She could not understand why he loved her. She was nothing, he was everything. He would cheat someday, didn’t they all. Now he was gone. Her love, her life.

They were young. She knew from the moment she saw him, she loved him. Tall, dark hair, hazel eyes. Her heart. But it could not last, would not last. She trusted no one. And her fears inevitably would push him away. She had loved before, but never loved to her soul. Her first love. Words spoken. Some can never be taken back. He told her once she made him feel important, loved. And she did love him, with every ounce of her being. But, now he was gone. He was not coming back. How was she supposed to live, to go on?

She’d smile and laugh in public. In private, her tears burned her cheeks every day. They talked, she heard him drive by. Run to the window, please stop. Her heart beating fast, anticipation. She’d watch him drive away. He stopped once, came to the door. She had someone there, no one really, but he just looked and walked away. She wanted to run, to run and tell him she loved him. Without him she could not survive. But, she stood frozen. He had said to leave him alone once, so she did. Letting go she hoped would show him how much she loved him. It was all she had to offer.

Months passed, he found someone new. A child on the way. Her heart broke that day. Would her tears ever end? Would her heart ever mend?

One last time, at a friends. They ran into one another. She tried to be so strong. She saw it in his eyes, he did still love her. But it was too late. As the song says, ‘Letting go, is just another way to say I’ll always love you so.’ She had to let go, she had to find herself again…could she. Has she now?


She has love now. She loves for the last time. But, sometimes in the night she sees his face. Did he ever really love her? She was told once, she was his first love as well. Then why was it so easy to let her go. Does he ever think of her? Does he ever wonder, what if?  Does it matter anymore? A part of her heart disappeared that cold day never to return.

Letting go…

Blessings and Hope