Suicide And New Life Resolutions

I want to start by saying I no longer feel like stir fried shit. okayyyyyyyyyyyyy I would say that my health has improved to warm poop. I'm working my way up the bowel meter. Yes!

If you follow my health journey on my #bravegirlology pages, then you know it started to go in the toilet late 2017. My first dalliance with the dark side was "Romancing the Stone." My kidneys had nothing better to do than calcify salt and sugar into painful little-jagged rocks that rip through your body like Zeus lightning bolts. The pain is unique. It is exquisite. It is constant, and for added fun, it induces waves of nausea and projectile vomiting vis-a-vis the exorcist.
This condition led to a series of health maladies that brought on severe bouts of depression that pushed me to the brink of Suicide
As I stated earlier, I posted about my ordeal a bit, but I didn’t really explain how all the things I went through affected my emotional and mental wellbeing. It was a gradual descent into despair with subtle changes in my mood and way of thinking. I hid it as best I could, and that was my biggest mistake. So, I am writing this blog to give voice to my pain and redemption, and I am hoping against hope that it will help give voice to someone who might be experiencing the same thing.

Romancing the Stone…

I started to feel sick around September of 2017. I would get sharp pains in my lower back accompanied by nausea, and extreme fatigue. I ignored it. I couldn’t afford to be sick. I had too much going on. My family’s media company was really starting to take off, and I was anxious to reignite my writing career; all while working a full-time job and maintaining a household. I was fucking Wonder Woman, and I had zero time for that bullshit. So, instead of listening to my body, I chose to push forward.

The pain started to intensify, and I hid it as best I could.

It started to get harder to walk in October of that year. I was in constant pain. I couldn’t keep food down, so I stopped eating in front of my family. I couldn.t focus enough to complete my many projects, and I remember feeling so ashamed. I was always tired, and always pretending to be okay, which was exhausting in an entirely different way. I think my spirit was tired. My tank was empty, and my world had become constant pain. I left work in November, I could no longer do my job. I collapsed on Christmas and was admitted to Mercy hospital with kidney stones. My thought process had become negative and toxic during my stay. I was angry. I was depressed and ashamed. Anemic, I was given a transfusion and flushed around the clock with fluids. the kidney pain stopped so they told me my kidney stones passed. They didn’t administer any test to check if the stones were gone, and I didn’t press the issue because I was so happy to be leaving. I thought that the dark thoughts were just hospital blues, and I would feel better emotionally once I was home with my family.

I was so wrong!

Little Flight of Horror…

 On Jan 31st Iflew my fiancé to Georgia to see his favorite cousin for his birthday. My mom’s birthday was a day before, and I spent the day in the casino with our family. The pain had returned but I hid it. I desperately wanted my family to think I was okay. I had spent the last few months feeling like a burden and a failure. I was afraid if they knew I wasn't well they would feel the same way about me. So, I partied like a Rockstar with my mom, and then went halfway across the country with my man. We walked around Savana sightseeing, and I chewed painkillers like they were skittles. I became severely ill on the flight home.

I threw up several times. I experienced the worst torment in my life thirty thousand feet in the air. I couldn’t stop screaming as a kidney stone ripped its way down my ureter in mid-flight. I was rushed to Jefferson hospital as soon as we landed. They found multiple stones in my left kidney and one in my urethra. They performed emergency surgery but could not get the stones. They placed a stent in my kidney and scheduled another surgery to remove just the stone in the urethra. While waiting for my procedure my Insurance changed. Jefferson didn't take the new insurance and refused to see me to remove the stent. I couldn’t find a doctor to help me. I was in constant agony. Urine backed up in my left kidney enlarging it, and I just wanted it all to be over.

I want this to be over.

I want it all to end.

I want to end.

Hope Floats...

Tired of being in the house in constant pain, I went for a drive. God led me to the Health Annex. I went there in tears and begged for help. My new Dr. was an angel. He hugged me, prescribed a slew of meds and scheduled me with a Hahnemann hospital surgeon. She removed all my stones, and I actually started feeling better. With my kidney stones in the rearview, my new doctor set out to tackle my anemia. He said my heavy periods were the culprit. He scheduled me with a gynecologist at Penn who was to give me a hysterectomy. However, they refused to do so. They said my fibroids were too small for surgical removal.  They gave me an IUD instead. The IUD made me feel crazy. (crazier)

I didn’t know that my thought process could get any darker. I was wrong. Thoughts of suicide became vivid and more pronounced. I couldn’t dismiss them, but I was too embarrassed to tell anyone about them.  I started to gain weight from the steroids in the IUD. My mood swings were vicious, and the pain was starting to return. When I went back to my gynecologist to relay my concerns, they dismissed them completely. I asked if they could just give me the hysterectomy like my primary doctor suggested. They declined. They told me that a hysterectomy would be too risky because of my weight. "You need bariatric surgery," they said, and I reluctantly started the process.

Hope Dies… SUICIDE

Meanwhile back at the ranch, money was tight because I hadn’t worked in over six months, and I wasn’t promoting my books or my business. My mom’s health started to fail, and my depression had swallowed me whole. No one really knew how bad I was doing. I gave Oscar-worthy performances every damn day. I can’t really tell you when the thought of suicide stopped being background noise and turned into the ultimate solution. But I think it happened around the same time that I started identifying myself as the problem. I thought that If I was gone everyone would be better off. The alarm bells went off when I started to think of ways to do it, and the endgame plan started to form in my mind. At this time, I knew I needed help. I reached out to a friend, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the whole truth of my state of mind. She was great and said all the right things, but none of it helped. I mean, how could it? She couldn’t provide a solution to a problem she knew nothing about. So, I buried my depression under my discomfort and went about my day to day as if nothing was really wrong. This lasted for about two weeks. I pretended to be okay. I buried my feelings deep inside, and then it all came crashing down. My thoughts of suicide became a reality and I left my home one sunny day in the summer determined to end my life.

But God…

I pulled the car over and started to pray. I prayed hard, and I cried. I called the suicide hotline 1-800-273-8255 and unleashed eight months of frustration, pain, and fear. The man on the phone played a big part in saving my life, and I can’t even tell you his name, but I am certainly in his debt. He listened to me for hours, and then he convinced me to call my mother. My mom talked to me until I got home. Then she just rocked me and sang to me, like she used to do when I was little. I slept peacefully for the first time in a year.

;;; ICONTINUE ;;;

New Life Resolutions

A lot more happened leading up to my breakdown. Although I couldn’t fit it all into a single blog post, I’m sure I included the important parts. I pushed myself to hard, and I stopped taking care of me. I allowed my emotions to rule my decisions, and my pride caused me to keep pretending. I thought… this wasn’t me, couldn’t possibly be me, and when I finally accepted that something was wrong with my mental state, I let shame bar me from seeking help.

Welp, to hell with that bullshit!!!

My 2019 and beyond resolutions are as follows…

Use your voice. Rest. Ask for help. Go to therapy and be honest with your therapist. Get second and third opinions on all diagnosis and prognosis from your doctors. Be proactive in your health care. Be kind to yourself. Play as hard as you work and write your ass off!

That last one has a lot to do with this blog. I plan to breathe life into my writing and blogging is a great way to get started. Every blog has a theme... self-esteem, motivation, cooking, entrepreneurial experience, love, sex, pedicures (it's a lifestyle blog so the topics are infinite). Each blog will have a short editorial, an interview, and a health and wellness section. This could not be possible without the wonderful talents of Cynt Bfree John H Howard Sylvia Hubbard-Hutula Julia Mallory Phette Fee Ett Hollins Jennifer Caress stay tuned... oh and if you would like to be featured hit me up at info@jpsimmons.com