I’m 71 years old and have had major depressive disorder since childhood.  I’ve been hospitalized 35-40 times.  Months of ECT which allowed me to function…but this is a chronic illness–I will never be cured.  I have been put on every anti-depressant, MAOI, tricyclic, quadricyclic, anti-psychotic, anti-seizure med around.  I always get insane side effects: The worst was the pain patch Fentanyl where I had such severe auditory and visual hallucination I thought that back in 2003 when I was separated from my husband, living in a 200 sq foot studio Garth Brooks and his band were in my apartment! They were playing acoustic guitars, singing and drinking beer.  They were getting long neck beer bottles from my tiny fridge–I have never drunk alcohol.  Finally hit me that something was wrong, called my internist who laughed at me and told me “Take the Fentanyl patch, wash off your arm. Enjoy Garth, but he WILL go away. Second time was Remeron I had been given in a psych unit even though I TOLD them I can’t take anti-depressants.  They told me it was a pain med–trying to trick me.  It’s a drug given once daily, so I was home when it hit.  I was in group therapy and the other folks were sitting on my bed…I tried to reach out and touch them–then realized they were hallucinations…so I just held on for a few days and they went away.

65 years of depression. Married two men who were abusers. I had a terribly low self esteem, but had a high enough IQ that I was a National Merit Scholar by my sophomore year in high school. My mother was terribly abusive and was only child to be beaten each day.  I was a scholar in Ohio and had placed 10th in English and 15th in math in statewide high school tests. My parents couldn’t have cared less.  I tried so hard to get their approval but my mom, a registered dietitian told my twin sister and me that women were useless, wasted college tuition. My parents were wealthy and belonged to a tennis and golf country club that didn’t allow “girls” under age 21 on the grounds!  My twin and I sat in the car while our three brothers were living it up.  We couldn’t even get snacks or drinks from the clubhouse.  I was so abused that I left home at age 15. I worked in this low cost motel and was given an old room to live in. I also worked at a diner so I could eat.  I was able to get my high school degree with my teachers giving me special projects I could do at the library.  I ended up with a full scholarship to Ohio State. I lost count of twin sister Peggy and brothers. Peggy was already being hospitalized for bipolar and she hated everyone.

No one came to my high school graduation where I was lauded with scholarships and highest honors. I never had nice clothes…only what I could afford on paltry jobs at motel and being cook at a diner.

Summary: Took a bus to Columbus. stayed in a dorm, had zero self-esteem. Pre-med, majored in molecular biology, always A’s even though I was working two jobs.  My profs had me working in labs where I loved clinical and pure research.  I didn’t get into med school even though I did well–4.0, top 95th percentile on MCAT, great referral letters from profs. But I looked awful. Couldn’t afford hairstylist, nice clothes, and again NO self esteem. Didn’t make it into a state medical college.

I started working full time nights as a Holiday Inn restaurant–the coffee shop. I had NEVER had a date!  I lived rent free in a horrible house with nine guys—motorcycle mechanics and always on drugs.–how they made their money. They’d bring motorcycles into kitchens in winter–too cold outside. They all had girl friends-guess I was just one of the guys. A few girls called me a lesbian which was greatly confusing. No I liked guys…never asked out or even bedded by guys in house.  I met a body builder, a police officer at the coffee shop.  Never a date–just started living w him. Closer to work too.  We got married, then the abuse began. Handcuffed, beaten…left handcuffed to a pipe when he was at work. NEVER saw it as abnormal–“I deserved it?” My mom LOVED him and he got to play at their club…but not me!  She saw the bruises and blamed ME. “You must be a terrible wife!” I believed it.

BUT, I was into sports–tennis and golf classes at college. Had a knack…and this cop was REALLY GOOD at sports, so that was my get away. His mom was a nurse, so with her buddy’s help they got me into nursing. I graduated in two years in a 4 year program…worked in ICU. Then got a Master’s in NP, but I had divorced him after 4 years of marriage. We had golfed with his friends, so kept up friendship. But found out from his golf buddies that my husband was keeping a second apartment where he brought back women on job.

Ended up working as an independent NP in a Nevada casino town where closest hospital and doctors were 125 miles away. I became good at family medicine and emergencies. Guy with heart attack from casinos, Undocumented Mexican woman giving birth, and kid with shotgun blast to neck.  I had hired guys from a mining job that closed. I taught them x-rays, min lab work, helping me with deliveries, suturing, setting up clinic appointments, sterilizing instruments, ordering supplies etc. Two were illiterate so I also taught them to read and write.

Got a job in Pearl Harbor, HI teaching paramedic skills to the medics of all branches of military. Also taught Advanced Trauma Life Support to military docs and nurses. Bought a $2K 25’ sail boat, renovated her, learned to sail out of a book, ended up as captain for 40’ and 50’ two masted schooners for rich guys who couldn’t sail. Some of my “happiest” times. I STILL HAD DEPRESSION!  Seeing a psychiatrist once a week. Had no self-esteem! I’m sailing 45’ $400,000 ketches and I STILL have depression. Was winning women’s golf and tennis tournaments! Had many golf buddies—more comfortable with guys. Women were concerned with clothes and makeup–something my mom never taught me. Now could downhill and cross-country ski (Utah near Nevada work), rock climb, scuba and free diving, sailing any size boat, surfing, tennis, and golf.

SHOULDN’T I BE HAPPY??  Met a US Army military officer–West Point grad.  Were married within two months. I REALLY knew football (Ohio State) and baseball. He was transferred to Virginia Beach, FIRST hospitalization 1992 after two years of marriage. My doctors called him a “crazy maker.”  Abuse again. He had isolated me from friends in Hawai’i and my colleagues. I grew very ill, depression grew very bad. We returned to Hawai’i in 1994 and I was declared 100% disabled. I was 5’10” and 145#. By 1995 I was 110# and near death w organic system failure. Now he HATED me as he longer had a sports buddy and sex partner–I was good at both. Not working–I couldn’t get out of bed.  Only a disability check when I used to make good money. He was angry. Kicked me out often–I was living 4 to a garage, while he had the house. I was in the hospital more than out. He was an alcoholic and began using drugs. He couldn’t keep a job after retiring from Army.

In 2009 he left the house leaving cell phone, keys, wallet with all cards. Took no clothes–just the t-shirt, shorts, and his slippahs (flip-flops). Emergency bulletins, detectives found boxes of prescription pain pills, anti-depressants, Adderall! (Should NEVER prescribe this to an alcoholic), sleeping pills, Xanax!  After 4 months of hell, his remains were found on the side of Diamond Head. So decomposed his cause of death wasn’t found out…ever!  I found out we were deeply in debt! (Recession) Had lost the house, all savings–buying custom made tennis racquets, golf clubs, $4K custom bike, trips to Alabama where he had picked up all bills from Georgia to California taking his family to pro football and baseball games! Plane tix, game tix, fancy (expensive) restaurants with $200 bottles of wine.

Everyone blamed me. Couldn’t get life insurance (How do we know YOU didn’t kill him? No survivor benefits from Army–so selfish he never signed me up. I was so ill I could barely walk. Too expensive to live in Hawaii. Moved to Georgia where Greg’s brothers lived. Had to live in a trailer in a bad area. Just me and my service dog. Living on my social security. Couldn’t work–Georgia and Alabama didn’t accept my RN and NP licenses!  Most states accept all licenses.

Ten years later. My docs here won’t prescribe the Oxy 20 I had been on for 10 years—severe osteoporosis from staying in bed. 10 fractures of spine, severe osteoarthritis of shoulders, hips, knees.  I have never abused any pain pills. No therapists take Medicare. I am horribly depressed. Everyone here has Trump banners and bumper stickers.

Pain is horrible. My brother-in-law Bob died. Rest of in-laws tell me that Greg’s death was MY fault. I was “crazy!“

My service dog died. Can’t afford to get another dog.

I have NOTHING to live for! My few friends are back in Hawaii. I am agnostic so no churches. No friends–neighbors saw my Obama stickers (Hey I’m from Hawai’i) and actually smashed my “elitist” Prius up with baseball bats. Down here it’s N***** this N****** that!

Why is suicide bad??  I have nothing to look forward to! This past New Year’s Eve I was picking up meds and this doctor stopped ALL sleeping pill, minor pain med, and ½ mg clonazepam! I started crying in the small pharmacy where they all know me. I said “I can’t keep doing this!” Went out to my 14 yo Prius, and just cried. Pharmacy had called police. They wanted to put me in ambulance to go to ER. No way! In-patient psych has become horrific prisons. When I refused to get out of the car, these two large cops (Remember abuse by cop husband?) pulled me out, smashed my face on hood of my car–knocking out 4 bottom teeth and a large cut through lip and down to chin. Kept 12 hours, treated like this criminal!  Finally they let me go.

Oh Lawd, I am SO depressed. I have zero reason to live. My own family wants nothing to do with me. They’re all MDs, children are MDs…even when Greg was found dead I called and was told “Your brother is eating dinner! Don’t bother us again!”  I have no one. The pain is terrible.  WHY IS SUICIDE BAD???