This June I lost my mother. She overdosed on pills in her bedroom above mine. She had struggled with depression, anxiety, and ptsd for as long as I can remember. The past 3 years though have been really tough. She was a lot more volatile and mean, but just for short periods then she'd go back to the amazing caring kind hearted person she was. It was always hard to tell if she was serious when she'd get that way. She'd always talk about running her car off a bridge or something along those lines but in a angry revenge way not a suicidal way. We had gotten even closer the past few years which I'd think would be hard to do with how close we already were. She was my best friend.
The week of her suicide started off great. We found I was going to graduate college early after several dropouts and hardships on my end. Then I found out I was going to lose my scholarship and she didn't have enough money to pay my tuition. Which triggered not only her guilt of thinking she was a bad mom but her ptsd of my abusive biological dad. Every solution my adopted dad and I came up with wasn't good enough. She started to get in this cycle and couldn't get out of it. The night she killed herself was the worst. She had taken her sleep medicine to sleep through out the day. So when I had come home from class she was asleep. I woke her up and offered to get us dinner which she accepted. I then went out to get food, when I came home I woke her up again and she didn't remember our conversation and got really angry at me saying that she was going to leave me and my dad and that we'd be happier without her. I told her that was stupid and that I'd leave her food out for her. When she finally came down stairs several hours later I went into the kitchen to talk to her. When I walked by her she tried to flip my drink out of my hand. To which I got angry and lashed out asking what her problem was. She replied me being alive was her problem. To which I told her maybe I'd go crash a car somewhere and stormed out of the house where she followed me and told me not to take the nice car then. That was the last conversation I had with her. When I got home I had found she'd locked me out of the house and had to call and wake up my dad to let me in. I then spent 2 hours debating calling 911 cause she had been acting so weird. I decided to wait till morning to avoid her wrath. I woke up 5 hours later went up to her room. By the time the EMTs arrived she was gone.
Everytime I walk into my house all I can see is how she looked when I found her. I blame myself so much its consuming my life. Everyday gets harder not easier and I don't know what to do.