Psychic Couch has been my home for years. It was that one corner of the internet where I could truly be myself—feeling comfortable and surrounded by friends I could talk to about absolutely anything without constantly second-guessing if I was crossing some invisible line. It was my sanctuary. There were times when I was really struggling, pushing myself to the brink both mentally and physically, and this community was there to lift me up and cheer me on. It was honestly the only place where I felt truly understood.
It’s a place I always find myself coming back to because it played such a huge role in helping me figure out who I am and build a life I'm proud of. I don't need it the way I used to, though; now, I mostly drop by just to see if any old friends are around or to lend a hand to someone else if I can. I haven't forgotten everything this group did for me. 🙂 To me, this was never just some random message board or a collection of digital avatars and strangers I’d never meet. We all knew each other so deeply here—honestly, probably better than we know the people in our actual day-to-day lives. 🙂
Nicole Barrett76 said:During those two weeks while you were sleeping or in a coma, did you experience anything at all? Any sounds, shadows, touches, a breeze, or perhaps any visions... like, could you perceive a difference between light and darkness... even just that, if nothing else...?
Did you feel them giving you IVs, or perhaps shaking you or slapping you, whatever?
Now that all of that has passed, do you feel as though some part of you has been changed forever? And do you think your family ever suspected that those voices coerced you into attempting suicide? Did they, for instance, ever suggest to you that when you heard the voices, you could have called for help?
Of course, if you find these questions too personal, you don't have to answer them.
Honestly, I didn't feel a thing, and I don't remember any of it.
Now that everything is over, do you feel like a part of you changed forever? And do you think your family ever suspected those voices were what pushed you toward suicide? For instance, did the voices tell you that when you heard them, you could have reached out for help?
To be honest, no. I don't really feel like some part of me has changed, especially not permanently... My family? I don't think so, at least that's not the impression I got. And yeah, they told me I should have called for help, blah blah blah, but it wasn't like they held it against me.
The first time, things just didn't go as planned. I was actually in a similar boat to you—feeling surprisingly okay, maybe even happy? It was about three days before I made my move. I spent that time subtly saying my goodbyes to everyone, making sure everything felt settled. On the actual night I decided to do it, I was out on the town with my girlfriends, just laughing and having a great time...
But once I got back home, that heavy feeling hit me. I realized, "Okay, this is it. This is the moment."
So, I took a massive amount of pills, and somehow, two weeks later, I woke up in a hospital bed.
The second time around, I didn't overthink it at all. I just acted on impulse, took the pills again, and thought it was finally over. But my body had other plans—I started vomiting almost immediately, which is how my family found out...
The thing is, my family lives in a bit of a bubble, honestly, just like most people do. I figured it would be easier on them if I blamed the voices in my head, so that's the story I gave them. I truly believe they can handle that much better than the truth—that I just wanted to end it all and die. If they want to believe that version of reality, let them.
I’m honestly kind of floored that you managed to take 300 pills... No joke.
The most I ever think I took was maybe around 80...
But hey, we both made it out on the other side. 👋 🙄
If you feel like sharing, I'm curious—what were those hallucinations actually like? Did you remember anything?
I used to get so tripped out; I once pulled all the curtains shut in my room and kept telling my brother he couldn't open them because people from the building across the street were staring at me...
-Lexi, there's nobody across the street! -There is, bro, I swear... *I start describing exactly what they look like* -Lexi, you're imagining things, there's nobody there. -How can there be nobody, you idiot? You're trying to tell me I'm crazy? You're the one who's crazy, not me! Just leave me alone.
....
Anyway, therapy isn't quite as brutal as it used to be. Azolar 10mg, Lexapro 20 mg, Trintellix 10, Xanax 1.5mg (daily)
I think I’ll hang in there for a little while longer; for now, I’m just powering through on some Xanax and seeing how it goes... It feels like my therapist might be away on vacation or something, so I'll probably just tough it out for a bit. It isn't turning out to be quite as bad as I expected it would be. 🕺
Larry Lewis said:Are you still working? I mean, please tell me it isn't because you're pushing yourself too hard.
What kind of paranoia are we talking about here? Because if this is actually getting heavy, you really ought to up your dosage.
I actually stopped working already... 🕺
It’s not so bad that I can't handle life, per se, but it definitely gets in the way sometimes. I'll probably hang in there until my next appointment with my therapist, though I might just head in sooner if it gets worse.
I’ve been feeling pretty paranoid lately, and honestly, I’m just feeling kind of fragile. I actually have an appointment with my therapist in two weeks, so hopefully that helps settle things down a bit...
Larry Lewis said:Perhaps you could ask her psychiatrist about long-acting injectable medications. They usually administer them once every twenty days or maybe once a month, depending on the specific drug.
That’s actually exactly what I was thinking.
Back when I wasn't really feeling up for taking daily pills, I used to get a Rispolept Conste injection every two weeks...