S is for Suicidal in September

Between October and now almost to the end of February I have had no postings.  Well in September I had a several days run of extreme depression.  I couldn't sleep for well over 60 hours.  I was, to put it quite bluntly, extremely suicidal.  I went as far as making a plan and taking steps to ensure I would be able to carry it out.  Once everything was in place I was so happy and lighthearted, and just felt such relief as though a great burden had been lifted.  I hadn't felt so good and free since high school, which was also the last time I actually tried to kill myself.  I drove around town for a little while reveling in how relaxed and happy I felt.  I wondered if this was how normal people felt sometimes.  I didn't want to wait for a better time.  NOW was feeling so wonderful, I was ready to be done with hurting; with curling up trying to hang on and riding the next wave of depression so deep that it hurt to just, be.  I drove around thinking about things and feeling good and truly alive.
Eventually I thought about my children and especially what my little guy had just recently started saying to me when I came home, "I missed you, Mommy."  He was so little, how could he voice that?  I heard his little voice in my mind and I couldn't die, but I wanted to so badly.  The pain was so intense for so long I couldn't bear to give up this relief and joy I felt.  I found myself driving to someone I trusted and giving them a note and a bottle of sleeping pills for them to keep.  I couldn't throw them out the window or drop them in the trash and once at their house I resisted their efforts to dispose of the pills.  I think I needed to feel I still had an out.  I'm not sure, it's strange to think it out loud like this.  For me depression is like the ebb and flow of the tides.  It always returns.  Sometimes I get hit with a tsunami, same waves, but totally out of control.