Attempt 5 and the Mental Institution

Two weeks ago today, I cut my arm in an attempt to end my life. My Master interrupted me by coming home earlier than I expected. He talked to me a bit but he did not make me go to the hospital. He talked me down and got my mind focused on other things. I am still coming to terms with the fact that this was the fifth time in my life I tried to commit suicide. The cut wasn't deep enough to cause me to die, but it was about my intent tha made it an attempt.

The only problem was I wasn’t okay. Over that week, I began thinking about other ways I could kill myself and I began to think about the old prescription drugs I had my Master remove from the house. I knew he probably didn’t really rid of them and they were in his car. During the night on Thursday, I quietly got up and went outside. I popped the trunk to my Master’s car. Sure enough, the pills were in the trunk. I noted that the bottles were pretty close to empty so I combined a number of bottles in two pill bottles. One was completely full and one was half full. I took the pills back into the house and hid them in our guest bathroom.

I went back to bed and I waited for the perfect time. On Saturday last week, I was feeling like that time was drawing near. My Master noticed the change in my behavior. He questioned me about it and eventually I admitted that I had a plan. I then showed him were the pills were and he took them. We talked for a bit then, he made me go to the hospital.

I was then admitted to a mental institution associated with the hospital. It was one of the scariest and hardest things I have ever had to do.  I couldn’t see my Master except during visitation hours and I could only talk to him for 10 minutes at a time. Just about everything was considered contraband from shoe laces to dental floss to ink pens. 

It was a co-ed ward and I had to share a room with another woman. We had our own beds and a wall separated us but we had to share the bathroom. Most of the people on my ward were either there for suicide or they were a recovering drug addict. I spent most of my first day there balling. I was still scared and I wanted to go home. I felt very alone and I was uncertain about actually being able to get help there. Legally, I could not leave. If I tried they could get a court order to keep me there because being suicidal is against the law.

I did have a psychology technician notice I was crying in my room. He can in and talked me for a long time. He listened to what I had to say and he didn’t make me feel stupid. He told me that I am not the first person to have come here with the same life story. He then convinced me to go out and socialize with other people. I wandered into one of the rooms with no one and started to watch TV. He sat down next to me and talked me about what was on.  

I began to calm down and I started to talk to other patients. The suicidal people were the cool people but there were ranges of coolness. I quickly became one of the coolest people in there.  I am sure it had something to do with the men on my ward finding me attractive and the fact that my life story was pretty fucked up and even included a pedophile.

I decided as I went to bed last Sunday night that the best way to get out of here is to accept that I am here and accept the help they are offering me. On Monday, I went to all the group therapy sessions and I was social most of the day. I didn’t feel the social pressure there that I often felt on the outside. I guess I had no one to impress and everyone had a story to tell. I didn’t feel so odd when I was there. I felt like a normal person who just happened to have been through some really tough shit.

They did change my medication. I think the change is helpful. I learnt a lot during the group therapy sessions like how to relax and just cope with life. I got released on Tuesday evening.  When I left, I felt 100 times better then when I went in. I felt this drive for life and to make a difference that I didn’t have before.  As I was leaving, my only regret was not doing this sooner. Going to the mental institution was probably the most helpful thing I have ever done for myself. Overall, the experience was positive.

Today, I am at home and still in my pajamas. My parents have stopped talking to me because I was in a mental institution. My mother called my suicidal feelings stupid and she told me that I shouldn’t have told anyone.  That hurt a lot, but my parents were never going to win awards for exceptional parenting anyways. My brothers and sister have been amazingly supportive. They all took my side and confronted my parents. We are all on the outs with them right now.

I am nervous about restarting work on Monday. I am uncertain of how that will go. I know I am still not functioning at 100% and I am coming to terms with the fact that I may never be back at the level I was before all of this.  I have therapy on Monday after work so hopefully that will help to unpack things a little bit more for me.

I am having passing thoughts of suicide now, but nothing like I was feeling before and I don’t have a plan. I am keeping an eye on that and communicating those feelings with my Master. He has been amazing.  I am just so glad I have him with me to be with me as I get better. I do not trust myself, so we have opted to lock up our extra over the counter medication and the prescriptions we are using. We have also locked up our sharp knives and sex toy box. My Master has the key, which is the way we both want it.

Emma

3 Week Update

I have been on medication for about 3 weeks now and it got upped earlier this week in an attempt to get me ‘stabilized’.  This process has not been easy and therapy has been challenging at times. I don’t know how I am doing. I am still here so I suppose the masses would view that as a plus but I am not sure if I view it that way.

The theory on how this happened is my crappy year with the death of a family member and my layoff caused my body to dig up things I have long since buried and repressed. It turns out my normal childhood was far from normal and probably closer to the Little House of Horrors. Sadly, I confirmed these things with my siblings. They expressed to me that they had also repressed things until like me their neat little worlds came undone.

I think somewhere inside of me I was hoping that my past wasn’t real and I was just losing my mind or had a false memory. I feel like my childhood explains why I am the person I am today. Not the suicidal person I am now, but the servant who likes pain and doesn’t say no.  I was conditioned to be that way.

I don’t know what this knowledge means for my future, my kink, or even my relationship. My Master has promised to stay by my side throughout this process. He wants me alive and happy. Right now, I am just trying to take everything day by day and resist the urge to hurt myself.

Struggling

I have been struggling a lot lately and the thoughts of suicide have not been getting better.  On Thursday, I talked to a clinician over the phone as part of the EAP (Employee Assistance Program) coverage for behavioral health issues. The clinician wanted me to go to the hospital. I declined, because I just don’t want to be locked up like that.

Yesterday, I was pondering taking the old prescription medicine we had in the cabinet and I even fiddled with the containers while my Master wasn’t home. I became very uneasy and unsure of myself. I wanted to take the pills but I knew that it may not work and my Master would be upset.  I decided to lie down and go to sleep. My rest was very agitated but the sleep seemed to help.

Today, my Master and I went shopping. There were unattended children who were playing with a cart and decided to ram it into us. I asked where the children’s parents were and after I found the mother, if you can call her that. She became very defensive and started swearing at me. She wanted me to mind my own business, even though her children were assaulting us. Then the boyfriend or whatever started threatening my Master and my Master starred at him until he walked away. Stuff like this is why I hate humanity. After I got home my head was still racing from the poor parents which seemed to reflect my view on not wanting to be part of this world. 

I paced around the bedroom at home for a few minutes while my Master was in the other room. I cautiously walked over the toy box and I pulled out the knife which has a razor end. I walked into the bathroom and I sat down on the counter. I starred at my right arm for a moment and I focused on a blood vessel that was popping out from the surface. I slowly put the knife up to my arm and I started to push down on the tip. As, I felt the tip enter my skin I heard a clatter in the bedroom. I thought it was my Master. I put the knife down quickly and I got up to see.

It was just my cat and the cat was glaring at me. It was then that I realized that I might need help. I located my Master and I told him that I think I might have to go to the hospital. He agreed and quickly got dressed. On the way to the hospital, I started to have second thoughts about getting admitted into the psychiatric ward because I didn’t want to feel trapped. I know that once I voluntarily enter the hospital for this problem I cannot leave until I get cleared by the doctor.

I convinced my Master just to drive around for awhile and then he asked if I wanted to walk around somewhere for a bit. I agreed. After we got some water, we went to a walking trail we had not been to in sometime. We wandered around for about an hour and we got lost a couple of times. I talked about my woes of life and took in my surroundings. At the end of the walk, I was feeling better.

We decided to grab some dinner and we got it to go and ate at home. Since walking seemed to help ease my desire to do self-harm my Master is going to buy me a treadmill so that I can walk at home too. We had a talk about how he can’t protect me from everything in the house and that it is okay for me not to be in the hospital so long as I don’t try anything stupid. I agreed, so as of right now I am still not in the hospital. I am feeling and thinking those thoughts as the evening goes on, but I am hoping that with rest things will get better. I see my therapist again on Tuesday. I am hoping to be able to make that appointment.

Slipping

*My apologies for the slightly incoherent blog. *

Despite my outward appearance of everything being put neatly together in my life things have been slipping for me lately over the past several months.  I have been having problems with depression, which have become increasingly worse. Over the past couple weeks, I have started to have thoughts of suicide and I find myself contemplating my own demise. It has been bad for awhile for a variety of reasons.

My diet change was hard. I had to give up all the foods that made me happy. I know it is not good to comfort eat, but I don’t even have that as an option my life anymore. I lost 20 pounds as a result. I am now down to a size 0. I can’t go out in public without the generalized public making negative hurtful comments. When I am grocery stopping, I have had obese people stalk me around the store. I have had obese people ask me if I intend on throwing up my food later. I have had them tell me to eat a sandwich. I have been told more times than I can count that I am not a real woman.

I realized the other day, that the older I get the less I fit in with other people. Why? Because I don’t have kids to talk about and I can’t have kids. I realized that despite all the effort and sacrifices I made for my step-child. That will never be good enough for the mommy brigade and nothing I have ever done has allowed me to form a bond with my step-child because her mother decided to use a fucked up form of parenting.  I wonder how such stupid people can pop out kids like candy and how well equipped people can try for years and never become parents.

I had a death in the family in late winter, the day before my birthday. It was a member of my immediate family.  My Master told me of the death and left to go to work 15 minutes later. My parents had already arrived at my house by the time my Master told me. I got to spend the evening with my grieving parents while my Master opted out. He also wasn’t there the next day as he had to go to work and wouldn’t call in for bereavement.  Eventually, he did use his bereavement days but he was still largely focused on his work. He didn’t seem to have much time for my loss.

A couple months later, my job got outsourced to India. I got called into a meeting with HR with most of my team. My supervisor also lost her job. I got told my some of the management that was still employed that the reason why I was rehired was to write the process documents for my department. So that the jobs could be shipped overseas, I finished those documents a week before I got notified of my job loss. I may have single handedly been responsible for most of my department losing their jobs and I didn’t even know I was getting setup. I felt like a complete utter failure.

I got laid-off with notice, so I still had to walk into this office every day until I found outside employment.  After I received that paperwork, I got a lot worse. My Master once again was busy and stressed out with work. He didn’t have the time to help me work through this and process what happened. I felt alone and uncertain of what to do.

I began having trouble sleeping and I would wake up completely soaked in sweat. Every day, when I would walk into work I would worry that someone was going to grab me and hurt me. I felt myself getting slowly and slowly more paranoid.  I felt myself isolating myself from those around me and I lost interest in all of my hobbies.  I didn’t see the point in continuing them. I lost interest in everything.  I don’t care about keeping up with household chores or serving my Master. It doesn’t give me the joy it once did. It just doesn’t matter to me anymore. 

Since the lay-off, I am no longer with that company. I have changed jobs twice since then. The first job was terrible. It was hostile and I felt couldn’t deal with the aggressive and second-class nature in which I was treated. My Master ordered me to quit. I have since found another job, which appears to be a good fit and that is the only plus I can think of.

Despite, things looking better on the job front I am still finding myself going deeper and deeper into this depression. My Master has also wanted to move out into the countryside, which sounds reasonable except for the way he wants to do it. He wants to take on tent living or buying a rundown house and doing repairs as we can afford them. That sounds like hell to me. It sounds scary to live in a tent or a boarded up house. People prey on those that are weak and we would be prey in that situation.

My Master finally took notice this week. My Master is making some efforts now to be there for me. But I honestly don’t know how much that will help, because he wasn’t always there for me. One of the reasons why, I wanted to be a slave is because I didn’t want to be alone or make choices alone. However, because my Master got engrossed in his work that is what happened. My Master tells me that he wanted to give me more latitude and to see how I would function and that is why he became so focused on his work, not surprisingly I failed miserably.

I opened up to him about my thoughts of suicide and we went to the doctor today. I now have a prescription for an anti-depressant. My doctor thinks that the depression is most likely a manifestation of past trauma. I am now going to a therapist once a week for the foreseeable future. I suppose in order for me to get better, I will have to face the demons that have haunted me throughout my life. I just don’t know if I really want to face that. I have always runaway from problems and more than anything. I just want the thoughts to stop. I want to feel safe and I do not feel that in this life. I don’t know what the future holds for me. Right now, I am just struggling not to get institutionalized.  

If I continue down the path I am on, I know I am going to get institutionalized. I am trying so hard to find something to live for, something to find meaningful and I keep coming up empty. Life just seems like an endless series of struggles for nothing.  I’ve noticed today, that the world tends to hate me until I tell them I don’t want to be a part of their world anymore. Then all of a sudden the world seems to care. 

Human nature is a fucked up thing.

Grammar Nazis

One of the things I find humorous about the internet discussion boards and social networking sites are the Grammar Nazis. I think that the Grammar Nazis are a bit ridiculous because nitpicking over comma usage or a misspelled word on someone’s post as a way to showing they are right shows me they have a serious problem accepting other people’s opinion on things.

But that is not what I find to be the funniest thing about Grammar Nazis. I think it is hilarious when they misspell something or if they are a moderator of a group and they correct a post for grammar and spelling and the post still contains errors.  I find this funny because the very same thing they would nitpick at someone else for doing they are doing themselves.  It is like the pot calling the kettle black to me.

Oddly, one the most common misspelled words by Grammar Nazis is your and you’re.  If someone is a Grammar Nazi, I would think that they could at least use the proper your or you’re in a sentence. This however is not the case but they will harp on anyone else for misspelling a word.

They also seem to have a problem capitalizing the first word of a sentence. One would think if you’re a Grammar Nazi, it would be pretty important and more important than a long winded post about disliking someone attempting to show respect by using a slash with lower case and upper case pronouns.

I do understand people getting upset over texting speak on a discussion board, because that is hard to read. Especially as you start to get old like me. These days, I find myself having to Google what certain acronyms mean because I have no clue. Unfortunately, this sort of short hand is becoming more and more relevant in our society where people want things done faster and faster. I opt not to go Grammar Nazi on these people, but if I don’t know what they are saying I will ask them what the acronym means.

I could go on and on about the inconsistency and humor I find in Grammar Nazis, not because I think they are right but because they don’t get it right either. I think that accepting people with their grammar errors and misspelled words is a better way to handle life. None of us are perfect and that is just part of life.

-emma

Fourth of July

On this Fourth of July, I am lying in my Master’s bed naked and writing a blog about the lack of freedom in my life. I opted not to be the typical free American that does as she pleases. I opted to give my life over to someone else because that is what makes me feel like I have a purpose in this life.

I have no desire to have a relationship as equals or to be free. I feel at peace when my Master makes decisions for me. I dislike the whole decision making process. I like to be told what to do and given a clear path. I don’t like the freedom nor do I want the freedom to go out and do what I want. One of the most calming things my Master has ever said to me is that I have no goals and no ambitions beyond what he gives me.

I like to be kept busy with chores and doing other things to serve my Master because I feel more content.   If I am off doing something for me or not doing anything, it tends to lead me down a path of self pity. Provided I am not sick, I am most happy in a semi-structured schedule from dusk till dawn. Unfortunately, my health is not the best so I have more free time than I want in a perfect world.

I don’t really feel having a lack of freedom in my life is a bad thing. It makes the world clearer for me and my Master’s home functions better because there is one person in charge rather than everyone having equal say.

-emma

Prepping for a Job Interview

So on a more upbeat note; I decided to post a blog about prepping for a job interview. I work in the business field. I look younger than my age so I have to make myself look the roll so to speak before an interview.

1.       I tie my hair back into a bun. I was actually told by one of my instructors in business school that women should pull their hair away from their face during an interview. This way the interviewer can see the woman’s face. I decided to try it to see if my instructor was blowing smoke or on to something. It turns out he was on to something.

2.       I wear my glasses. Apparently, glasses make a person look smarter. Therefore when I am doing an interview I leave my contacts at home and put on my glasses.

3.       Light make-up only. The interviewer should be able to see me and who I am not 10 layers of make-up that make it look like I am about to have a night on the town.

4.       I neatly trim and shape my nails. I remove any nail polish. I do not wear fake nails because I don’t want to send the message I am not willing to get my hands dirty.  Not to mention, fake nails drive me bonkers.

5.       No perfume. I hate perfume in general, but the interviewer could have a fragrance allergy so any perfume worn could give the interviewer a headache or even a migraine. This does not make a good first impression.

6.       Wear clothes that fit. By fit I mean clothes that are neither too tight nor too small. For me this is difficult, some clothing items I alter myself and some I pay a tailor. When it gets into reconstructing a dress shirt to fit me, I pay a tailor. It is worth the money because first impressions are important.

7.       Buy a portfolio. I put my resume, schedule of interviews, ink pen, and stuff along that line in my portfolio. It looks more professional than walking in holding a couple copies of my resume. I bought my portfolio for 15 dollars, it was worth the investment.

8.       I drive by wherever it is I am interviewing at the day before, because nothing is worse than getting lost or not being able to find the place I am supposed to interview at.

9.       Make sure all alarms are turned off on and the cell phone is set to silent. The last thing, I need is a reminder to go off during an interview or for someone to call me. I seek to eliminate that as a possibility. I check my phone beforehand to make sure this won’t happen.

10.    I give myself a pep talk in the mirror. I know it sounds stupid but I will stand in front of the mirror and tell myself a few times that I can do anything. It helps me build my confidence to convey who I am as a person to a potential company.