Going from “I Tried” to “I Didn’t Give Up.”
What you will read below are the actual Facebook posts that chronicle my recent battle against mental health issues and suicide. That is your trigger warning, if this is too much for you. This is incredibly personal, but I feel it’s important to share and document it for posterity. I hope that there are things that you can learn from this process, and I hope it will help you understand better how someone gets to that point, and how someone can get out. This was not fun to go through. This was not fun to get through. But I am nonetheless grateful.
This is real life. And working in social media the past year plus during a pandemic from home and onboarding a new role at a new agency with new clients and new team members made it more challenging, although we don’t always control timing, and I’m super grateful to have ended up at St. John. I genuinely feel like I have done the very best I could, and honestly am just thankful for the grace and mercy of so many people, and love from so many friends. Onward, we march.
March 28- “I tried.” Two words I uttered again and again as tears flowed down my cheeks, my hands too tired to reach to wipe them away. I decided that my last message to the world, of course via social media would be, “I tried.” In those moments, I didn’t want to do many things, if any, and I certainly didn’t want to live. I tried to do a list of positives and negatives but was taken off-guard when the list of negatives was so much longer than the positives. And oh, those negatives. The more I ran down the list, the larger and heavier each negative became. And as the wave of grief crested, I found myself lifeless, my arms motionless. At that moment, I didn’t want to be strong. I didn’t want to be brave. And I certainly didn’t feel any of those things, quite the opposite. I felt weak. I felt estranged. I felt hopeless. I didn’t want to live, but I didn’t want to die.
What I was experiencing was to me, the perfect storm of all of the worst emotions, feelings, and events happening all at the same time, at a time when I was already so mentally fragile. I will not go into all of the reasons, but you’re aware of the severe depression, anxiety, PTSD, and ADHD. You’re aware I’ve been in therapy again since the beginning of March, and right now I am dealing with a massive amount of grief from loss, rejection, failure, low self-image, and the complexities of love and family. As I’ve been processing all of this, the word on my heart has been “hope.” From the beginning of my recovery process, “hope” has been heavy on my mind, and was my “word” for 2021. But what happens when the very thing you were “hopeful” for is gone? What happens if the places you went to escape become prisons and not safe to go, either? You feel hopeless, alone, homeless. And the grief that has been attached to that has been debilitating.
And so I sat, I thought about dying. I thought about the fact that it would take no one by surprise, with most of my friends aware of my mental health struggles and the reasons. I took comfort in that, knowing that in my past, the family members and friends who took their lives took their loved ones by surprise, and I imagine that to be harder, in some way. I thought about everyone around me, and how they would be taken care of. I thought about my work, and where my workload was. I thought about almost every detail that would be affected, and what kind of place it was in. At the end of it, I had a green light. I could see no reason to not live, other than that I didn’t want to die. I have spent days trying to process the grief that led me there, and the scary experience of those days of near-death, and understanding what was the thing that kept me from opening that drawer with all of those pills. I went back to that drawer over and over, each time hoping to make it back to my seat, and not hoping to make it back to my seat. What was the thing that allowed me to wake up the next morning and process the loss and grief all over again, only to be repeated? It was not strong will. It was not a “happy place.” Respectfully, it wasn’t even family or friends.
What was it? “Hope.” The very word that I had used to focus on for 2021, the very word that was in this time, causing so much pain and anguish. It makes no sense, but hope is apparently a powerful tool. Hope is what kept me going when I didn’t want to. Hope kept me from opening those orange bottles. Hope opened my ears to hear the birds outside the window singing the song of Spring. Hope for a future that is much better than my past. Hope for a day when I don’t question my worth. Hope for a day when I finally love myself. Hope that I regain everything I’ve lost. Hope for the things I deserve. And lastly, hope that all of the struggles will be worth the outcome. That is not something I feel at this moment, but I am here. I woke up this morning. I plan to repeat this tomorrow. That is what hope does.
Three days of last week I didn’t want to live. I came closer than I ever have to end my life and the pain, trauma, and grief. I wasn’t feet from it, I was inches from it. As soon as I could stop the crying, shaking, and hyperventilating, I reached out to a couple of dear friends for help. And they did. And my therapist. And best friend. I shared with them where I was, what I was doing, and asked for them to continue to check-in on me, which they have. I forced myself to get outside, played disc golf by myself. I walked alone with my thoughts and the heaviness of my heart. I didn’t make a plan. I didn’t focus on the positives. I walked with my grief. It joined me around the course. I cried a couple of times but didn’t cry all of it. I tried to let my mind find some peace. Did it take away the pain and heaviness? No. Not the first time or the second time, but it got me outside and enriched my lungs with fresh oxygen. It was just one method for finding some balance for my mind and heart. I woke up this morning. And I will wake up tomorrow morning.
I do not take any of this lightly, there is nothing more valuable than life itself, and I understand that. I also understand now how someone gets to where I was. I understand the feeling of drowning in fear and failure. I understand even more how important my mental health is, and taking better care of it with who I let in, what I do, and what I allow myself to feel. I am not sharing this for pity, or sympathy, I am sharing this because I personally know people that I have helped down off the same mountain, and I suspect there are more of you out there that I don’t know. I want you to know that you’re not alone. I want you to know that your feelings are valid. I want you to know that there may not be a quick fix for your situation. I want you to know that you may never get the answers to those questions. I want you to know that someone else’s actions do not define you or your value in this world. I want you to know that grief is a natural byproduct of love and is perfectly healthy. Above all else, I want you to hope.
April 8th- I’ve gotten lots of questions as to how I’m doing after the scary situation I found myself in a couple of weeks ago (https://www.facebook.com/jasondominy/posts/10226415972125591), so I thought I’d update you. I am doing better. I have still kept my twice-a-week therapy appointments, my best friend checks on me daily, and several others do every couple of days. I’m reading 3 books that have been helpful; “It’s OK That You’re Not OK,” “Transformed by Trauma,” and re-reading Brené Brown’s “The Gifts of Imperfection.” I have put my focus on getting better at my job, getting more caught up and ahead, and getting outside as much as I can. I have also been writing out all my feelings, all the grief, and trauma, and understanding where they came from so that I can move past them and learn to deal with them in a healthy way.
I have also worked on a plan to help better prioritize my mental health in the future with choices and treatment. Honestly, I think just getting it out and putting it out there publicly was super helpful to me, as it has allowed me to process it with many of my friends. After posting it, I received countless private messages from others who had found themselves in the same situation or close, and identified with my story, and that allowed me to process it alongside their stories. It also helped me because one of the things I fear the most in my friends is the feeling of being alone, either in a situation or in life.
So, I’m doing better. I’m still not 100%, but having these few days off of work as I’m dealing with this second dose crap has actually helped me itself. I can’t remember the last time I had real full days off, but these have been timely, even if they weren’t for fun. They’ve been so good for me. I am on my way, and I really do feel like I’m getting a second chance at life. I feel like it was a real restart and I’m super optimistic and hopeful about life again. Lastly, I want to thank each one of you that messaged me, called me, came by, or sent me books. It means so much, and I really appreciate it. You all have been so awesome, and I am honored to have you on my journey.
April 13- “Oh, no, not again.” As I sat there in my chair, I could feel that familiar wave of grief and anxiety enveloping my body. “No, let’s not do that,” I said out loud. But it still came, so I sat there. I acknowledged the feelings, I accepted them as real, I took several deep breaths, then several more, closing my eyes to focus, as tears started streaming down my cheeks. I had been doing so well for the past couple of weeks, but these things are powerful monsters. I wiped the tears from my face, dug back into the analytics work I was doing for a client and turned the music up. Phoebe Bridgers, live at Red Rocks. I know it doesn’t make sense to listen to depressing music when you’re depressed, but for some odd reason, it provides me comfort.
I’ve been in a good space lately, bolstered with hope, and focused on healing. I’ve been charting out my grief and trauma and focused on helping process it with my therapist. Usually every weekend I work most of the weekend, but this weekend I forced myself to take it off, which after taking Wednesday to Friday off to recover from the second vaccine dose, gave me ample time to reflect, process, and recharge in a way I’ve not been able to in a long time. While I felt guilty not working to get ahead this weekend, I knew what my body needed, what it was calling out for. On Saturday, I drove April to Augusta to meet up with her parents for a few weeks while she helps them out there in Myrtle Beach, so the boys and she are gone and it’s awful quiet around here.
So, as I sat there, realizing I was alone, realizing I was feeling that heaviness, I immediately got up, walked outside, and took lots of deep breaths. Came back in, and I was fine. It comes in like a rushing river, strong and powerful, but I’m learning how to deal with it better. I am 100% determined to come out of this stronger, more confident, more hopeful, and more optimistic about my future and my worth. I’m going to take the next few weeks that April is gone writing a lot of these things out, working to clear my head and heart, and resetting properly. I can’t take care of April if I’m not in a good place myself, so there’s work to do. But I’m still here. And I’ll be here tomorrow. And the next day.
April 14- And then, just like that, I found the piece of the puzzle I was missing, the piece that made the whole puzzle make sense. This morning I woke up at 5:30, as I have every morning for the past 3 weeks, sometimes earlier, but never later, and this is only after going to bed around 2am. Last night, I had an incredible trigger of feeling rejected, and it led me into a complete tailspin. I immediately messaged a friend who helped me down, and did some breathing exercises, and went to bed. I woke up this morning hyperventilating and immediately googled “rejection anxiety.” Surely it had to be a thing, it sure felt like it to me. And just like that, the piece was found.
Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is ‘an extreme emotional sensitivity and pain triggered by the perception that a person has been rejected or criticized by important people in their life. It may also be triggered by a sense of falling short — failing to meet their own high standards or others’ expectations.” From this article, “No one likes to be rejected, criticized or fail. For people with RSD, these universal life experiences are much more severe than for neurotypical individuals. They are unbearable, restricting, and highly impairing. When this emotional response is internalized (and it often is for people with RSD), it can imitate a full, major mood disorder complete with suicidal ideation.” Holy crap. This is it.
Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria to me is triggered by feelings of unworthiness, fear of making mistakes, being oversensitive to other people’s words, social cues, and is also connected to childhood and adult trauma and grief, of which I’ve been in the middle of for months. It is all connected. The abuse and rejection from my childhood to my adult life have exacerbated and made this even worse. It is no wonder I have had such an incredibly hard few months. “The excruciating pain of RSD is often beyond description. Patients describe the intensity of RSD as “awful,” “terrible,” “catastrophic,” or “devastating,” but they cannot verbalize the quality of the emotional experience.” To me, it has felt absolutely debilitating. I feel like I am literally fighting against my brain, that my brain wants to kill me.
The positive thing that I learned is that there are treatments and medicines that help with this, with the majority of people finding success with treatment, so I’m going to call my psychiatrist today. I’m not on any of the medications used to treat this currently. I was so scared last night. I just kept saying out loud, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.” It felt incredibly scary to me. And now I know and understand why. If you have felt this way, or feel like you’ve dealt with this or are now, read more here. I had no idea this was a mental issue, and now that I know, this is giving me real hope I can get through this incredibly difficult time I’ve had the past few months.
April 21- I’m breaking my self-imposed social media break (outside of my poetry IG account) to give you a quick update, since I know I’ve had some friends concerned about me. I’m actually doing really well, and really enjoying the social media break. I’m also doing really well mentally, I feel pretty optimistic. I’ve got a new therapist (because my old one has been gone the past couple of weeks with no check-ins, and I know I need it), I talked with him today and am meeting with him tomorrow. I’m talking with a new psychiatrist tomorrow to get on the medicines that help with Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (along with my depression, anxiety, and PTSD), and am excited about that. What this is telling me personally is that I am turning the corner on a hard, dark time, and I haven’t given up hope. Actually, the opposite.
I feel optimistic and super hopeful, and really do feel like I’m getting a second chance. I’m also learning some great techniques to help cope with some of these hard things, and have been practicing them in the last few days with good success. There’s no changing that my neurological disorders are still there, and will always be there, but finding more ways to cope and be successful in life, leads me to be even more optimistic. On another note, I started back on my weight-loss plan, and at my weigh-in yesterday was told I had lost 20 pounds of body fat and gained 10 pounds of muscle in a month. That’s insane! And I started back at OrangeTheory today, burning a whopping 1050 calories, and am pumped about that.
I’ve also been doing a ton of writing and processing of my thoughts, feelings, and past traumas, and that’s been super helpful, too. I’m not going to lie and say there haven’t been a lot of tears, a lot of curse words, and a lot of confusion, there has. All of it has been super helpful. Lastly, thank you to SO many people who have called, texted, messaged, stopped by, met me for lunch, on and on. Thank you. I love you guys so much.
May 4- A lot can happen in one month. Heck, a lot can happen in one day, but one month can be filled with change. I’m coming out of my cocoon because it’s National Mental Health Awareness Month, and I can’t think of a better time to talk about these things this month, for two reasons: 1. You’re not alone. If you feel like you are where I’ve been, or have thought about it, you’re not alone. 2. There is little chance that given the stressors of our environment, culture, families, workload, you name it, that we’re not all affected by mental health issues to some degree. While I have certainly battled mental health issues my whole life with ADHD, adding PTSD, severe depression, and anxiety to it has caused me to be both acutely aware of my limitations and weaknesses and understand the need for better treatment and a plan for myself long-term. Your mental health IS your health.
When you hear “everyone you know is battling something”, please don’t take this as hyperbole, it’s not. It’s very real. We have no idea what people are going through behind-the-scenes, and what is portrayed on social media is like pornography. It resembles the real thing, but let’s not mistake it for the real thing. I have spent the last month dealing with grief, trauma, rejection, disappointment, and a host of other things that span 30+ years of my life. Physical, emotional, and mental abuse. Religious trauma. Low self-esteem and image. The normal challenges of having ADHD, now with the dangerous and scary symptom of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Frustration over not being able to execute my work as well as I know I can. Working almost non-stop, and the fact I want to help April more. Because I’m scared to make a mistake, the anxiety around that and always feeling like I’m about to make a mistake, which in turn, means I make more mistakes, rather than just slowing down and thinking things through more. It’s a vicious cycle. Mental health issues are not to be taken lightly, and having a neurological disorder has taught me that I have a lot to overcome.
Where am I now? I am in a much better place than I was a month plus ago. I have a good psychiatrist and therapist. I’m on a better medicine regiment. I’m working on all my work stuff. I have been able to process a lot of the grief and trauma that I’ve faced since a small child, and figure out better coping mechanisms. My headspace is very good these days, a result of the plan I initiated when I first experienced trouble. First, I sought professional help. Then, I put together a small team of friends I knew I could count on and trust to support me and check up on me. Lastly, I made a list of goals that I wanted to achieve to help me get out. And every day I have worked on that list, already completing some of them, and some of them I’m well on my way. I can’t tell you how important these three things I did are, and I can’t encourage you enough to do the same for yourself if you’re facing mental health challenges. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for those things. Those things have helped me hope when I lost them.
Here’s what I will say- I have gone from “I tried” to “I didn’t give up”, and that is an awful lot. My story is only halfway over, I experienced a slight intermission, but the curtain has risen and the cast has made their way back to the stage. As we talk about mental health awareness this month, consider making EVERY month Mental Health Awareness Month for yourself. I know I will. If I can help in any way possible, please do not hesitate to let me know. I love and appreciate you all, especially that core group of friends who have walked alongside me this past month (you know who you are.) You are not alone.
May 6- Here’s why it’s important that I talk about suicide: Because no one talks about it. That really is, reason enough. I have lost several close members of my family, two uncles. I have lost 5 friends. I have known suicide in what I thought was an intimate way until a month or so ago. But there is a difference between seeing a volcano from the base and standing at the top, peering into the fiery, lava-filled abyss, and they are not the same. I now have a greater understanding of this scary, yet normal part of society.
Here’s what I’ve learned, that I want you to know: Suicide is a lot more normal than you know. Since posting about it originally, I have had more than 25 friends private message me, some had been there before, some are there now, and some have been very close. Every one of you has been affected by suicide in some form. And while terribly sad and horrible, it is completely normal. Especially in a society where we are now with so many toxic ingredients in our environments, both literally and metaphorically.
There is hope out of it. Even when I thought I didn’t have hope, I found small droplets of hope on the ground to cling to. It doesn’t have to be a one-way trip. Know that things are never as bad as they seem, even though they absolutely seem like they are. I have found more hope on the other side of this than I knew possible. I know it doesn’t seem like it sometimes. But there is hope.
There is little YOU can do to help someone going through these thoughts and major mental health issues other than being there for them. And I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it is. It is an incredibly lonely place to be, and knowing you’re there means a lot. You can’t fix it. You can’t take the pain away. Heck, sometimes we don’t even know what the pain is or how to help ourselves. So don’t take it personally. We have to get through these storms ourselves, but knowing you’re there helps more than you know. What else can you do? Be kind to everyone around you, because you have no idea who is in that space at this moment. It is hardly who you think, too. Just be kind and practice love, grace, and mercy, even when it’s hard.
If you are in that place, please take the steps I did to get out of the hole. 1. Seek professional help ASAP. 2. Create a small team of friends you know you can count on and who will support you. 3. Create some goals for once you get out. This is key and gives you something to look forward to. And lastly, if this is you, and you need someone to talk to, I’m always available, day or night. You are not alone.
