anxiety, Beretta, chest pain, chest pains, psychiatrist, suicide
Just over a year ago I choked on some food. The doctor thought I may have inhaled a small part of it and pulled muscles in my chest from the coughing, which explained why my chest hurt for a while after it. Weeks later I still had some pain im my chest, not constant but would feel like it tightened up like I was having an asthma attack but I wasn’t. My breathing remained the same, no shortness of breath, just pain.
The end of 2013 was not a good time in my life. Not good is an understatement. It was shit piled up on top of a shit sundae after a main meal of shit sandwich. Work was a mad house, staff, customers and moving to new location was keeping me busy for more than 12 hours a day for three weeks straight. Adrenaline was all that was keeping me going, I loved my job and loved going to work everyday but it was intense running 18 staff, moving stock, organising phones and contractors ect. Though it all the chest pain seemed to hang in there.
Then the shit really hit the fan. I lost my dad, one of my best mates was in an accident and nearly died (he lived but was brain damage) and my wife was made redundant from her job of 20+ years. All this in one week. I went to work after we buried Dad and the bosses noticed I was not ok. I was bottling up everything and one day it came out. I snapped, threw furniture around, yelled at my wife, kids and mother in law(she lives in a granny flat with us). I went to my bedroom and locked myself in the walk in robe. The pain in my chest thumped, the shame of what I just did pounded on my. I was in that cupboard for five hours, my wife only checked once to see if I was ok. I was out of my mind and didn’t want to be here anymore. Fortunately for me, my gun safe was in this cupboard. I took out my Beretta 9mm pistol, found one bullet and but the barrel in my mouth. I don’t know how long I sat there with the gun in my mouth but I do remember thinking that if I did this in here it would be a big mess all over my wifes clothes and I couldn’t do that to her too. So the gun went back into the safe, the bullet back to is storage and I came out of there and told my wife i need help. the next day we were at the doctors.
Ten months later I am still not working. Doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists and drugs have all become part of my life to get back my life. Some days are good, some not so. Drugs seemed to work but then the side affects outweigh the benefits of the drug so onto another type and see how it goes.
There is light at the end of the tunnel, it is just a long bloody tunnel.