My Bipolar Story: The Crack in the Wall - My Story of Shock Treaments

Written by Marlene Margot

Over the next two weeks, I was given another six 'shock-treatments,' these treatments are very effective as they accelerate the recovery of the patient. My medication consisted of Lithium, anti-depressants and tranquilizers. I joined the chronic medication syndrome. I was told that I would have to remain on the tablets for the remainder of my natural life. By the end of June 1992, I was declared well enough to return home. I should have been as good as new. However, I was not happy. I fought the treatment. I did not want to have to take tablets for the rest of my life. I did not like Dr. L. It was too far to schlep all the way to Durban every time there was a problem. I put on so much weight. I went from 52kg - 74kg in a matter of four months. I had never been a fat person, but now I wasn't only fat I was obese.

I tried very hard to appear happy. My family had been through far too much with my illness and me. I felt that I could not keep doing this to them. Gee whiz! I was on every tablet imaginable, I had all the support that anyone could ask for and yet I still felt absolutely awful. If I didn't understand any of it, then how on earth could anyone else understand? I will try to explain, imagine your saddest moment of your life............ now multiply that by 100............. now multiply that by 1000............... [Hope you are still with me] now multiply that by 10000..............and keep going until you cannot multiply any more. Maybe you can understand a little bit, of what I was feeling. This is what is called the depths of despair; this is the mind of a person contemplating suicide. What would YOU do if your mind were in that state of hopelessness? I bet you would think about it.

On Good Friday 1993, I tried to commit suicide. I never did it to hurt anyone, in my very disturbed way of thinking that day; I firmly believed that I was doing the right thing. [This is the rationale of a suicidal person] I thought that I would be doing everyone a favor. I believed that Bruce and the kids would be better off without me. I would not have to feel despair, sadness, loneliness and emptiness any more. It engulfed me. I could feel it in every pore of my body. It overwhelmed me and was totally unbearable.

I swallowed 30 Leponex tablets; they are a powerful tranquilizer/sedative. My normal dose was one per night. You can imagine what 30 of them were going to do. I had washed my hair, bathed and in my pajamas by 3.30 in the afternoon. I had also phoned my sister-in-law Jennifer and thanked her for all her support while I had been ill. Jennifer thought that it had been a very strange call and a few minutes later she phoned back, but by then Bruce had found the empty pill bottle. I was rushed to hospital. My stomach was pumped, and I was given a coal-like liquid to drink. After all that they still couldn't get all the tablets out. The doctor tried to insert a drip but all my veins had collapsed. I eventually lost consciousness. Our doctor told Bruce that I had a 50/50 chance of survival. He said that I might die during the night, or I could become a 'vegetable' or I could make it and live. Well, I made it; my will to live is obviously far greater than my will to die. Thank God for that. I would have missed out on some wonderful things that have happened since then. There were repercussions. My daughter resented me; she could not understand that I would want to leave her like that. My eldest son was away at a friend's house when it happened and we didn't tell him until he got home on the Easter Monday. He said that he was glad that he wasn't there at the time. He also said that it did not seem real to him, as when he left home I was 'ok' and when he returned I was still 'ok'. My youngest son was only eight at the time. He says that he will never forgive. H e thinks that I planned the suicide over a period of time.

If I could turn back the clock to that awful day, with those dreadful feelings and change the way I felt. My God! I would. It took an instant to decide to end my life and that instant did so much damage. I looked at those tablets in my hand, and I thought to myself that they could end all my sadness, such terrible sadness. I wouldn't have to feel EMPTY anymore, and for the time that it took to think those thoughts was the one and only time in my 33yrs of life that I never thought of my children first. I know that words cannot erase the damage that was done, but I wrote a poem to my children, trying to explain how I felt. It's called:

I DID WRONG BY YOU

I thought my heart
Would break right in two,
That terrifying day
I did wrong by you.
I know that these words
Don't make amends
For what happened that day
But I recommend
You hear what I say.
Leaving you was not my intention,
I never knew
How to change direction.
I never gave a thought
To all I'd leave behind,
I was so distraught
I never meant to be unkind.
I saw myself losing hold
Of my resistance.
Daily thinking was
Bringing me down,
Twisting my mind
Beneath the ground.
Mistakes are wrong choices
Made by us all,
There are no rejoices
Only an open fall.
So hear me please
When I say this to you,
I'm sure you will agree
I did wrong by you.