Before grade 10
began my extended family took a trip with my family to Israel for my sister and
cousin's joint bat mitzvah. This proved to be disastrous for me. Hours upon hours
of mandatory walking made it impossible for me to enjoy even a second of it. I
eventually gave up and stayed in whatever room we were staying in while
everyone else went to the top of Masada. A certain individual (not here to name and shame) berated me for not being a part of the family on this very special trip. This darkened
my mood significantly. Up to that point I had participated in
everything and it was simply too painful to continue. As if I didn't feel bad
enough for missing out, they insisted it made me a worse person to have done so. I
don't totally blame them because even I didn't entirely understand my situation
yet so how could those around me? I was playing games on the computer while I
waited for the rest of the family's excursion to end so it did seem like I was choosing my computer over the family, but this
simply wasn't the case. Regardless, these encounters made me spiteful and angry
which added to my depressed/miserable mood.
If I had to pick a time where I think things really
started falling apart for me it would be 10th grade. I took on too much and
paid the price. 10th grade would be my last year at a private herbrew school that has its
students take 11 courses at once in three different languages. It's a challenge
in itself, but when you're missing as much school as I did it becomes nigh on
impossible. This coupled with the experimentation of different
medications by my psychiatrist would prove too much. Things were much the same
as the previous year where I would force myself to go to school regardless of
exhaustion and pain. The pivotal moment of realization for both the
school and myself that things weren't working out occurred in a music class. At
this point in time I was on a number of medications that evidently I was unable
to tolerate. I'd be dizzy whenever I stood up, and at the end of class, when I
did so, I fainted. Everyone, including myself, was pushing me to go to school
and not give up. Obviously I was pushed too far. The school called an
ambulance as is procedure and I was taken to the hospital. It made me feel
awful. I'd been convincing myself that making it to school was a victory but
even when I did my medical problems brought me right back out. I got talking
with the administration and we agreed it would be best for me to drop some
courses and try to finish the year; after which I'd need to figure my situation
out if I were to realistically continue at Hebrew school. Something good did come out of
the fainting incident though, a friend of mine at school noticed how much
trouble I was having and he took it upon himself to come up with a Facebook
group for my grade to take part in. In this group everyone could share notes on the many
classes I missed to help me get the marks to pass, and so he named it Marks for Mitch. It actually still exists to this day even though I no longer attend
Hebrew School, for it evolved into a group where the whole grade shares notes
with each other and everyone benefits. Even after switching schools I would still check in every now and
then to see what people are up to.
Changing medication is
always a risk so even with the fainting incident we hoped it was isolated and that it wouldn't happen again. Of course we were wrong. I went to a winter camp over
winter break that year and slept through most of it, but even with the sleep I
needed I encountered another crisis. I found myself experiencing a
common side effect of medication, a dry throat, but this dry throat wasn't
alleviated by drinking water. I was downing cup after cup but my throat stayed
extremely soar. I must have been close to 10 cups when I became alarmed and
called my dad. As the phone was ringing and I was hurrying upstairs to go
somewhere quiet, someone ran through a door I was next to
and accidentally slammed it in my face. This proved to be the straw
that broke the Mitch's back for I fainted again. At the hospital they said I
have a minor concussion, but also that I was probably about to faint anyway
thanks to the medication; the door to the face just sped it up. Finally, we got
rid of that medication and tried stronger stuff like codeine, which gave me
some relief but at an even greater price.
By early 2010 I wasn't myself anymore. The happy,
energetic, child I was was gone and replaced with a depressed, drugged,
frustrated teenager version of me. I developed amnesia from the stronger medication and
my mind was slower. The temporary relief Codeine
brought allowed me to make it to school more often, but I couldn't think
properly. If you've ever been on narcotics for an extended period of time you
know what I'm talking about. Your mind becomes cloudy; you think and even speak
slower. The other problem with narcotics is that they're are addictive and
tolerance to their effects builds fast, so the dosage had to keep being raised.
Now I felt not only physically but mentally chained. I became suicidal. What
would then occur was a perfect storm of trouble for someone
having suicidal ideation: a very bad day. First off, I woke up and was
in even worse pain than usual, but also as usual I forced myself to go to school.
Then we were watching a movie in hebrew class, in which one of the characters
kills themselves while in a Nazi prison. It brought all my dark
thoughts up at once and so I immediately got picked up from school by family
friends (my parents were busy) to get away from the terrifying thoughts. I couldn't afford to
spend another day without catching up on work so I decided to watch a different
seemingly tame movie for English class: Dead Poet's Society. If you've seen
that movie you know where this is going. Unfortunately (spoilers) the main
character in that movie also kills themselves. At this point I flipped out and
broke down so my family friends took me home (I was watching the movie with them at
their house). So now I'm home alone, in agonizing pain, with my mind in a very
dark place, A perfect storm, indeed. All of my medications for each week is kept in
a little plastic container with a slot for each day. Dozens upon dozens of pills. I took them all...
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