I almost ended everything in June..I'm sorry

I suppose this will be easier if I start in the beginning and summarize.

Everything was finally looking up back in March, tech issues got dealt with in mid April and things looked perfect.

Then something really bad happened in April, which got worse in May, which led to something worse happening last month.
I've been trying to figure out how to explain this ever since I got back from an emergency facility on June 22nd 2017.
Yeah that isn't a typo. And this is nowhere near as eloquent as what I've been writing mentally for the past six weeks, trying to figure out how to explain what happened to everyone I hurt as a side effect.

So here I am, writing up a blog to try to explain everything.
Explain what led up to this, and why.

Well to start out, things have been going to hell since November 2016, as in back when I stopped regularly posting stories and being reliable. It got better in December for a bit, fell apart again in January. And then started getting better in February, fell apart in March, got better till about mid April..

You have noticed the pattern haven't you? Effectively I've been severely clinically depressed for about 8 months and my PTSD has been in overdrive as well. The kind that drives you to write things like "Final Say", which may or may not have been written while I had a lethal dose of wormwood tea in a teapot right by my bed.

The night I published that, a friend talked me down from doing it. From trying to stop the pain by drinking that concoction of mine. That friend and others would end up doing that at least twice a week, till June 2017. This is not a joke or a test for a new story, this is....what has been going on beyond the screen.

Each time I'd move a little bit upwards, I'd fall further down. Around Mid April I stopped being able to do anything. I knew I had promised work, from cover art to edits to proofreading stories, but getting up in the morning alone was a monumental task. I had given up, completely and utterly, and started starving myself on top of it all. From that point on there were no longer any actual upsides or positive moments, just perpetual pain and misery and occasional bouts of mere existence.

I stopped being able to feel anything, my emotions dulled, my dreams became more interesting and worthwhile than anything I could do while awake. It wasn't even existing, I was in an autopilot state where the days blended together into a blurred film reel no longer memorable with nothing of value within. To be blunt, I had no more reason to live. The pain wouldn't stop, the PTSD echoes wouldn't shut up, and I'd started having full "reliving" episodes. The kind where you get to enjoy the darkest, most traumatic moments of your life over and over.

Gotta love PTSD.

That was my life. Nothing was going right, I couldn't get a job anywhere. My family is dysfunctional, funny story actually. I've been stuck living with my parents since my ex room mate chased me out last year in May. Lost my savings to my ex best friends wedding in November, and I'm the family black sheep scapegoat while I live here. Actually you know how I described Roseluck's parents? That's my dad, the person who I swear must get some sick joy out of snapping at me.

I can't afford to leave, and everything I tried turned to ash. Nothing seemed to work out, hell I couldn't get my youtube channel to work what was I thinking imagining I could make anything work out anyway? I'm stuck in a small town in flyover country, there is no future here at all. And honestly if I can't get out I'm not sure what I'll do, I just know what happened in June. After months of verbal, emotional, and mental abuse with no escape and PTSD "reliving" episodes at least thrice a week I did the unthinkable.

On June 17, 2017 at 11:35am; after everything else I'd been through and with no sign of anything getting better; I Glen Gorewood, overdosed in an attempt to stop the pain I was feeling.

Though the thing is I didn't want to die, I just wanted the hurt and pain to stop. I wanted the misery to stop. I wanted to stop being unable to do anything at all. I just.. I didn't want to go on like I was. And I just, I couldn't handle my family anymore.

I just didn't want to be living the life of a failure in pain...I wanted to dream forever.

My dad broke me that final bit, my brother helped but he actually hates what he did. My dad exploded at me while threatening to make me homeless and ransack my storage shed. He ranted and ripped away what little will to survive I had left. He broke me.

Honestly the only thing I had energy to do after I drank the mixture was text a few people and message some others on skype. That action saved my life, I just messaged "I'm sorry" to everyone. Nothing complicated, just "I'm Sorry."

I'm sorry I wasn't that strong.

I'm sorry I'm a failure.

I'm sorry I couldn't carry on.

I'm sorry I'm not able to do this anymore.

I'm sorry I'm going away.

That was what the message conveyed. Three people responded, one managed to get me to pick up the phone. That person called the EMT's and kept me awake long enough so they could get to the house. Honestly they are one of my best friends, they were before anyway. They saved my life.

The EMT's put an emergency anti OD drug in my system, I woke up over five hours later in the ER. I realized the pain was still there, that what I did wasn't going to stop it. However state law mandated I go for 72 hours (excluding weekends) to a facility for evaluation and observation. The only place open was a facility for the very severe and dangerous people. Those who, excluding me, were mostly there for reasons involving a certain kind of history.

I was supposed to be released the Monday after I got there, since I was cleared quickly and made a fast turn around. Mostly because I have a system to recover from episodes of severe depression, after all I have lived most of my life with severe illness. Truth is the system I used is one I used to use to keep myself going when I had terminal illness.

What is that system?
Analyze, document, think, plan, craft a solution. Oh how Twilight right?

Having a plan to get somewhere helps, it sucks I had to hit rock bottom before I realized that.

As for that being released thing..
My mother was on board with it, then my dad got to her. He changed her mind and what she said broke my heart. Eventually when I feel up to it I'll write a story here that explains it, it's easier for me to explain things in story form.

With help from the facility eventually I was sent home, but not until I almost lost my life due to an attack from another patient. Which could have been avoided if I'd been sent home Monday.

I got home that Thursday, terrified inside that I would be left on the street. That I'd come home and my mother would rip my soul out, that I would have no where to go. a million thoughts ran through my head, I was terrified as the transit pulled up to the house. I had and have nowhere else to go.

My mother let me in, and I told her what happened on Saturday June 17th.
After that things changed at home. I also cried into her shoulder for over an hour. I still do on occasion.

Since then my brother has been trying to support me, mom has been trying to help too. Dad is...

Obviously after what happened, things will never be the same again with him. I see him as dangerous to myself now, and it hurts that he didn't used to be like this when I was 10.5 years old. But it made me accept what he is now, that I can't let him in anymore. No matter what he does, which he is only doing so my mom stays, I will likely never be able to view as a parental figure or trustworthy again. Considering he snapped at me in the same pattern just last weekend, chances are he has no reason to change. After all as he has told me many times, I mean nothing to him.

My room has been cleaned of anything I could use to repeat what I did in June. The only reason that bottle was still there was I thought it was thrown away a year ago, if only I had actually done so...

For the next 60 days I'm not allowed to leave this house, well I can't move away specifically. I'm currently attending cognitive behavioral therapy, and I'm getting some assets evaluated so I can Auction them off. Then I'm leaving this house, this city, this county, this state; and I'm never coming back. I will still be on Fimfiction.

So there it is, that is what happened to me. That is why I disappeared. I fell to pieces, and almost did the irreversible.
For now all those promises are still on hold, because I have to focus on myself for now. According to my therapist this is going to be a long road, so bear with me.

The official evaluation actually lists me as having only one long term problem, it's downgraded to moderate PTSD from severe. So that's good news, that kind of thing almost never happens. I'm holding onto every positive now no matter how small like a precious object, so fragile it could break if I let it go. I kind of have to, after all very little is going right for me, and if I can't hold onto these droplets of light who knows how far into the darkness I will fall; or what I will do.

This is my last chance, at some level I know this to be true. I'm going to work very hard to make it count, to not fall into the abyss again.

The most important thing I have to say though is the most difficult. It's the thing I've spent almost 6 weeks trying to figure out how to word, so here it goes.

I'm sorry to every person I've promised something to and let down these past few months.
I'm sorry to everyone I've let down, but special note goes to the following.

The Psychopath - Feel free to hate me as much as you want, please be angry at me if you must. I should have known something was wrong months ago and let you know. I did reserve a copy of your book though, even though I failed to come through for you when you needed me to. When I was in the facility I actually kept thinking about that art I owe you, I realize apologies don't mean much but I am truly sorry for failing to follow through on my promise. I do love the newest update to the book of monsters, and I'm reading Lux Locus right now as I try to recover. People, get a copy of this guys book; he's brilliant!

Animefan - I'm sorry I could not edit your story anymore, it is a wonderful tale and I hope you found an editor in the meantime who can. For now I am incapable of doing so.

SevenofEleven - I apologize for being unable to edit much for you, and for not telling the truth about what was going on so you could find someone who could edit for you.

BlueColton - I still owe you art, and I'm sorry I couldn't follow through due to this. Your stories are awesome, and deserve more art; all the arts.

To everyone else, those who read my stories or those I just talk to; I'm sorry for almost ending everything. I'm sorry for being so close to never coming back, and going away forever in a most permanent way.

Also It's my birthday today, one that I almost made impossible to occur last month.
Happy Birthday to me, and the fact that I'm still here too I guess.

Once more I'm sorry everyone, but please bear with me while I try to anchor myself to the dock of life one more time.
After all, this is likely the last chance I'm going to get, so I should make it count.

Glen Gorewood

ps: Friends can save your life, I know mine did. So to anyone feeling in the same place I was, and kind of still am. Hold tight to all the friends you have, be they real or imaginary; after all to sail through the center of the storm you need a good sailing crew to aid you. After all, friendship is magic isn't it?

Comments

[BlueColton]

Glen, I'm so sorry to hear you're going through this. I would like you to focus on putting yourself back together one glorious piece at a time. Focus on writing your own story first. I'm glad you were able to fend off the Reaper one more time. Don't give in.

Oh, and Happy Birthday. I mean it.

BlueColton.

[Glen Gorewood]

4606123
Thank you BlueColton for your understanding. It's going to take time to get myself back together, and lots of work too. Reliably fending off the reaper is reliant on me not being put into a "shock" state again right now, so I'm trying to keep my stress levels low and work with my CBT on that. It's part of why I took so long to respond to your comment as well, this whole recovery is going to be time consuming; but hopefully worth it.

Thank you for the happy birthday wishes last week, in case you are wondering the cupcakes were the highlight. They might inspire a story eventually.

Glen Gorewood

[TheGuestAccess]

Congrats on recovering. I personally don't know you but I had someone in my life that suffered from PTSD when he came back from Vietnam(Yeah he was old). However, even though he knew he needed help, he thought it was better that he instead separate his ties with the world. He drove anyone and everyone including his wife and two sons. No matter what though they tried to help but he persisted down this path and passed away alone with a lot of people that tried to help ended up either regretting in their failures or even not liking him as they use to. Yet, hearing you over come this make it so uplifting to hear cause it means that you don't have to fight this alone as long as you let people help you. If you can fight back as something as serious as this then it can work on other serious issues.

Oh, and happy birthday btw. The reply is a bit depressing but just gonna end on a happy note .