Reasons for Living vs Reasons for Dying
This title is the name of an article written by David Jobes. It has to do with suicidality. The idea is to list your reasons for living and then your reasons for dying. The hope is that the reasons for living outweigh the reasons for dying.
I have been struggling a lot lately with my suicidality. Last week I wanted to do something very badly. I didn’t care what it was, as long as the end result was death. I texted my therapist and after I met my ungrateful father, she called me. We talked about my plan that was running around my head and the stressors that was leading me to think of suicide. It was a short phone call so we didn’t get into real specifics. I am sure that if we had time for a session, she would have asked what my reasons for living/dying were. It’s her way of gauging just how suicidal I am. Usually if I don’t have any reasons for living, my constriction is pretty high. Constriction is the narrowing of the senses. In this case, I only see suicide as a way out and I am damned to achieve it one way or another. I have been stressed over my birthday, not to mention Christmas and still trying to save money for the new year because I know I will have to pay for my prescriptions again. I also need to save some money so I can see my therapist sometime in the new year. But that is all future planning and it is stressing me out to no end. I don’t want to live to see my birthday in the 9 days. I was planning on ending things this Saturday so I made plans with my sisters for a birthday dinner with just the three of us. I still have Sunday to worry about. And the fact that what I have in mind, I have plenty of is not helping my case. I have three bottles of meds that I could use to try and end my life. But the problem is where I will do this. I can’t do it at home because I don’t want to be found by family members. And I know it will be traumatic to anyone that finds me, but I don’t care. I can’t stand living this hell that is supposedly called life. I am in so much pain lately that I can’t think. The new pain meds have me so sedated it’s not funny. And I think it’s messing up my bowels, too. Instead of being constipated, I am now having loose stools. That might be good for a “normal” person but not good with someone like me who has impaired function of their bowel due to cauda equina syndrome.
I made an appointment with my neurosurgeon the day before my birthday. It is going to be a wasted visit because there are no new images of my back. The latest scan was in 2007. So it’s just talking to him to update him on what is going on and then he will most likely order an MRI. I will then have to have another appointment to discuss the results. I am scared that I will have to have surgery again. I have no idea what that will mean. Or he might decide to pass me off to another neurosurgeon because he is a pedi doc and not an adult doc. I don’t know. I will be pissed off it I am again passed the buck to someone else.
I am also worried that I am not going to get the level of care from the new PCP in my doc’s office when he leaves and my days on opioids might be coming to an end. That is what is really freaking me out. I can’t manage my pain without these meds. It keeps me sane. But some doctors wrote an article in a prominent medical journal about how chronic pain patients get lumped with substance abuse disorders and other mental health issues and therefore “abuse” the meds they receive. Which is utter nonsense. I have never abused nor taken more than prescribed. I take what I need on a given day. Sure there might be some days that I need more medicine than others but that is rare. When I have a pain flare up, it might mean 6 pills instead of 4. Or if I am not in too much pain, it might mean just 2 pills a day. It varies because my pain is not constant all the time. It’s always a three on a scale of 1-10 at any given point but any activity (going up and down stairs, walking for lengths of time, standing for lengths of time, etc.) will increase my pain at night. At night is when my pain is at its worse. That is when my reasons for living go out the fucking window and my reasons for dying increase trifold. This is what it’s like living with chronic pain.
My therapist knows this. She has seen the worst of my suicidality to know when to intervene and when to let me vent. She tries hard to let me work it out on my own as I usually do. She guides me through these rough passages. But I don’t know if this time she has what it takes to see me through these waters. I am so drowning and I just feel like no one is hearing me scream in a crowded room. I am just so sad that my doctor is leaving, my psychiatrist is not available at the moment, and I have to face a neurosurgeon the day before I really don’t want to be alive.