I write this story at 4 a.m. because I feel it needs to come out of me, no matter how vulnerable I may feel. I am an “open book” so that I can help others and perhaps so I can free myself from my own demons.
January 3, 2022 is a day I will not forget. I never write about suicide. It makes me uncomfortable, despite being a survivor of now four aborted attempts and having been hospitalized nearly a dozen times for depression, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), obsessive-compulsive Disorder (OCD), and anorexia nervosa.
I won’t go into the dirty details; there is no point in that. What I will share, though, is what I’ve learned. This latest attempt and subsequent hospitalization was due to a mixed bipolar episode, complex PTSD triggers, and — most significantly in my opinion — an ongoing identity crisis at its peak.
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