1,000 Little White Pills

***NOTE: I DO NOT ADVOCATE SUICIDE FOR ANYONE FOR ANY REASON. IF YOU ARE FEELING SUICIDAL, PLEASE CALL 911 OR YOUR DOCTOR OR A FRIEND OR ANYONE WHO CAN HELP YOU THROUGH THIS DIFFICULT TIME.***

1 little white pill calms down the trembling in my hands from the Lexapro.

2 little white pills heads off most panic attacks

3 little white pills make me calm

4 little white pills make me relaxed

5 - 8 little white pills make me not give a shit

8 - 10 little white pills let me fall asleep quickly and stay that way for a while

10 - 15 little white pills send me to a place in my head where everything is soft. It also causes amnesia and concerning behavior for 24 - 36 hours.

15 - 20 little white pills will very likely land me in the psych ward as I cannot hide that I took them.

20 - 25 little white pills will land me in the medical hospital

25+ little white pills will put me on a respirator

25+ little white pills plus a few other types will put me into a coma

25+ little white pills plus a few specific pills will kill me

It took me years of pushing the envelope a little bit at a time to figure out these thresholds. By the time I did, I realized that I cannot take this path. The damage it would do to my children would be profound and irreversible, quite possibly fatal. The damage it would do to other loved ones is huge and devastating.

That doesn't stop me from wanting to do it.

The "Happies" are gone and I am sinking fast. I had a day of the controlled-energy-annoyingly-hyper stage. I have gone through the sleep-to-catch-up phase. I went through the hey-where's-my-energy-but-still-okay part in only about 6 hours. I had a full and intense day of don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-bite-your-head-off mood. (That sucked.) I am now in the crying-because-I-don't-wanna-do-this-anymore phase. If my past pattern repeats itself, I will soon go numb-so-I-don't-have-to-hurt and that will drop into despair and then sink further into I-don't-even-have-the-energy-to-be-depressed.

Right now, I keep finding myself standing in the kitchen in front of the medication baskets that keep the family's prescriptions organized. I stare at my bottles of little white pills. I don't touch them, not yet, though I will probably end up with a bottle in my pocket within the next couple of days. I just stare at the bottles and imagine the sinking, relaxing feeling of taking so many of them that I lose count. I breathe deeply and remember the strange sensation of forgetting to breathe and the step further of forgetting to breathe and forgetting that I've forgotten and really not caring at all. I can almost feel the way the room spins in slow, blurry revolutions interrupted by long, dark grey blinks.

And then I realize that there are tears on my cheeks. I am so frustrated. I try and I try and I try and I do so much but when I look at what I've done, there is still so much to do. I've barely made a dent. It seems so wrong that simply living life should be so very difficult for me to do. All I want is to close my eyes and have them not open again. Even my very best is not enough and I don't think it ever will be.

I am allowed to take 4 little white pills a day. They are very low dose (.5 mg) so I don't get addicted to them. I almost never take all 4. Right now, I take 1 in the morning, every morning, because otherwise my hands are so shaky my handwriting, typing and other fine motor skills are impaired. I will take others as needed. I am very confident that I am not now, nor am I in danger of becoming, addicted to them. Most days, I only take 1 or 2 and before the Lexapro, I took 1 or less a day.

But I get them filled every month without fail. And I have been doing this for a very long time.

I sat down (mentally) and figured it up one day. By my calculation, I have somewhere between 1,000 and 1,500 little white pills. There is absolutely no good reason for having that many little white pills on hand unless one intends to do something rather permanent. I know this. But I won't get rid of them, even though I have taken suicide off the table until my children are grown and have flown the nest.

Somehow, having 1,000 little white pills on hand makes me feel a little less trapped. I know there is a fire escape and, even though I don't plan on using it, it is there, like a security blanket tucked away in the closet. I'm not using them, but I know they are there, just in case.

And so I stand at the counter, and I look at my bottles and I wish it were an option. I go through it all in my head, the feelings and thoughts and sensations. I wish I could talk to someone about it that wouldn't freak out and throw me in the psych ward, or tell me to get rid of them, or give me The Lecture about all I have to live for and blah blah blah.

I don't need The Lecture. I have 1,000 little white pills...... and 1,000 reasons to not take them.

But oh how I wish I could!