I have tried to take my life several times over the years. Currently, I am struggling with the difficulties of trying to stay alive. I keep coming up with plans to end my life. I give myself a date and when that day comes, I plan on ending it. This has been going on for a few years now. My therapist has been able to stop the constriction by telling me how my family will feel and how she will feel if I go ahead and take my life. I can’t help making these plans.
I have been depressed for as long as I can remember. I recently been trying to get at the “root” of my suicidality but the feelings evade me. I just know that between the ages of 5 and 8 something happened that made me want to take my life. And by age 10 I tried by putting a pillow case over my head. No one knew about this. I told my mother right before putting the pillow case I was going to kill myself but she did nothing. My confidence in her dwindled that day. I felt I could no longer trust her.
Five years later I am a freshman in high school and my parents had started World War III. They broke up and so did my wrist. I started cutting to relieve the pressure and pain. I used cutting to relieve the psychological pain that I was feel and it became my friend over the next seven or so years. Sixteen I was hospitalized and everyone found out about the voices. That was tough. I had wanted to join the military to get away from my family but having a psychotic diagnosis, I knew that I never would pass their tests. My career was over before it started and I fell into a worse depression. I kept on getting rehospitalized, like every three months, because I just couldn’t handle my life. I was getting worse and the suicidality was getting better. I kept on thinking that I was the end.
As I suffer from delusions and psychosis, two years ago, I had a funny thing happen. I had the delusion and voice of Allah tell me that I should sacrifice myself so that the war in Afgan would stop. As you probably could tell, I was off my meds again. My psychiatrist doesn’t think that I should be on them all the time because of the side effects. I had to re-start taking them because I was the sacrificial lamb and I believed all this earnestly. Allah was talking to me and I was the cause of the war of Afganistan. The only way to stop the war was to stop my life. So again I planned another scheme to end my life. Only this time, like before, my therapist stopped me. I tried very hard to get her to see that it had to be done and to think of all the soldiers I would save by ending my life. It seemed like a good win win. Sacrifice one life so all could be saved. Isn’t that what the military does? Allah was not too happy when I started again on my meds. He was very angry. And he also wanted me to end my life anyway because it was better than taking medication. I agreed with him on this but I couldn’t end my life. By this time I was back in the hospital. I was still delusional, thinking I was still the “one” to save it all. But as the medication started working, the delusions dropped and I began to see more clearly. The voices went away except for my regular voices that I hear all the time.
Since that time, a lot has changed for me. I have become disabled and am in chronic physical pain. I now too have a plan on killing myself and it is to happen some time this year. I have had enough. No pill can adequately control my pain and it is a tough position to live in. I have a condition known as Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). It is a neurological disorder in which the nerves are out of whack and no one really knows the cause. I was “lucky” in that I had nerve damage already to my ankle and then when I sprained it, twice, I think it allowed the nerve damage to spread. Of course I also don’t walk correctly. I can stand here and give a lecture about pain and suicidal but I am afraid it will fall on deaf ears or not really reach the people it needs to reach. I wish you could say that you can live your life with chronic pain but I would be lying. There was a time when I was able to. I had adequate pain control and could work a full time job. That ended when instead of being placed on a regular psych unit, I was placed in a detox unit and my pain medication was stopped. Since that time in 2002, I have not had adequate pain control and I am afraid to ask. I have my pain meds but it only treats the physical type of pain that I experience. It doesn’t help with the burning sensation or the other electrical type pain that I experience. And nothing helps these types of pain. No cream or pain gel works. It might be enough to take the edge off so I can sleep but I am always in a 3-4 state of pain every single day and when my activity goes up, showering, getting dressed, walking to the bus stop or standing while waiting for the bus, then the pain also goes up. Sometimes all it takes is my moving my big toe and I am in pain. And with each episode, I think about death. I plan it, I imagine it, I dream of it. I no longer am able to work because I can’t walk more than 300 ft. I can’t lift things greater than 10 lbs. I can’t stand more than 20 minutes. And I am only 37. I got this horrendous condition when I was 25. It was a long battle and I wish that I could say that not working is helping me. In some ways it does. It helps me to write and distress. My voices are at a lower key than they were when I had a job. I don’t have the delusions as much. I just am constantly suicidal. And maybe one day I will. But as one of the bloggers Toni has written, “I am not living and I can’t die”.
You are in my thoughts and please know you aren’t alone in this battle anymore. ***hugs***
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