Category: suicide attempt

Aeschi model and ramblings

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders, psychache, suicide, suicide attempt, writing

Just woke up after a morning of pain. I decided to take my pain meds and go back to sleep. Like I figured, I woke up around 1400, which left me a half hour to shower and get dressed before the bus came. Well I did take a shower but going down the stairs to my sister’s apartment for coffee put a kink in me going out. I still plan on going out with my cane to Walgreens for some soda. I know I shouldn’t as I am trying to diet but I need something to drink other than water. I also need to get another bottle of water as I drank the one I had while watching the Sox game.

I am feeling energized by the coffee. I hope it doesn’t lead to a crash because I don’t want another nap today. I need to work on my writing today. I have been amiss doing so the past few weeks but now I think I know what to write about and I’ll just stick it in. I want to write about the Aeschi model for suicide and also how Dr. Jobes came into my life through his work. I really believe that if more clinicians took this approach to their clients or at least they had this approach in inpatient settings, there might be less suicides.

Aeschi model (pronounced Eshi) is a patient-oriented model, meaning that the patient has a say over treatment more than the clinician does. What has been found is that the provider-oriented model doesn’t work as patients can get frustrated over the “provider knows best” thinking. The Aeschi works toward a collaborative effort with the patient and provider working together to finding out what is at the heart of suicidality of the client.

Today I was at Starbucks taking notes on my Aeschi book. I was writing down what I had highlighted but there is too much information that I didn’t highlight that I needed to share so I gave up on it, for now. This book is so powerful that you really need time and energy not only to read it but to digest its contents.

The gist of it is to have the client be the person in charge of treatment and therapy, a novel idea when so many clinicians think they know it all better than the client and therefore take charge due do their discipline (CT, CBT, DBT, Etc.) I know that if my therapist had been in this category, I probably would not be here, or I would be seeing another therapist. I believe that if there is a collaborative effort of the therapist and client, there will be a higher success rate than if the therapist has the one track mind of he/she knows best. But the nice thing is that the Aeschi model doesn’t have to focus on one discipline. It can work for social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, mental health workers, etc. It just takes a little courage to step out of the normal boundaries and put the client first. To let the client tell their story without being judgmental or critical.

After the client tells their story, there is an openness that can be trusted. Once the client has a sympathetic and empathic ear that is open to whatever the client is saying, the real journey begins.

This model is the new age of what therapy should be about. I know that if I didn’t develop a relationship with my therapist, I probably wouldn’t be here.

On another note: I did go out today and wasn’t in too much pain. I was able to walk a block with my AFO on. Now I don’t know if the brace is what calmed the pain down or if my ankle is finally calming down. I had a wicked bad night last night. Ice and pain meds were just not working for me. Usually ice helps but this time it didn’t. I am going to try again tonight. I have my foot elevated on a foam block. Best $60 I ever spent for a foam device. It really helps my back and legs.

A remembrance of the past

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

I read a blog today that really hit home and made me think. It was about a person that wrote about her experience of attempting suicide eight years ago this month. I also have an attempt anniversary this month, actually in a few days time it will be 21 years ago that I first attempted suicide with diphenhydramine, also known as Benedryl. I remember that it was a month after my then therapist told me she was leaving. I thought fine, so will I. I planned my death on a day I knew my family would not be home and took the pills. What I didn’t account for was puking, violently. If I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be here today. I still remember my eyes being dilated for almost a week afterwards. I was pretty mad and I felt like a failure, a huge one. Probably the biggest one on the planet at that point. Here I was, a very intelligent teenager who couldn’t kill himself right. I sunk into the worse depression after that. Actually, I had no idea I could sink worse than what I already felt but I did. I began losing weight, lost my appetite almost completely. I was sixteen years old and all I thought about was death. I was not sleeping. I would wake up at four in the morning nearly every day and couldn’t go back to sleep. I would wake up dreading the world, not wanting to go to my summer job but I had to. I couldn’t show that I was depressed. My mother had already freaked out when she found out I had overdosed thanks to the said therapist who told her after I told her what I had done. I didn’t know what to do. I think after several weeks of this and it just getting worse and worse I called Samaritans and talked with them about my situation. The person told me that I should be in the hospital and I contemplated that. I waited a few more days to see if things would get better and when I couldn’t take anymore, I told my mother I needed help. She took me to the hospital and I got diagnosed as major depression with psychotic features. Up until then, I had dreams of joining the navy. Those dreams died in the hospital emergency room when they told me I was psychotic because the voices in my head wouldn’t shut up. I actually felt free to talk with them for the first time in my life. My mother didn’t like that as it appeared that I was crazy. Well I was…

I got to the hospital and got sent to a local psych ward that was NOT for teens. I then got transferred to a better psych hospital the next day. I would have two more admissions there before I had a break. So my cycle of being in and out of the hospital began. I had three admissions all within a year. I blamed my next therapist for this as if she was doing her job, I wouldn’t be so sick. This is the therapist that I saw after the other one had left. I have seen many therapists in my lifetime, too many in fact. Before I turned twenty-five, I would have eleven therapists. Some therapists only saw me for ten months, others were year and a little over. I never had continuity in my care so I always remained unstable. Surprisingly, the only stable therapeutic relationship I have had was with my psychiatrist, whom I have been with since I was seventeen. I wished so badly at times that I could see her for therapy but she only does medication.

And here I am twenty odd years later and I still want to end my life. How sad is that…

anguish and misery

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

I have been up since midnight. I don’t know why I woke up other than to use the bathroom. And I got a splitting headache. I have been listening to old music, 3 doors down and Rascal Flatts. I can always go from rock to country all the time. I have been trying to get the old cd of Rascal to MP3 format but I don’t have the software to convert it so I just ordered Roxio.

I had a goofy day. After I got off the phone with my therapist, I took some Neurontin to zone out. I really didn’t until about six in the evening, six hours after I took a big dose. I needed to take away the burning pain and the zaps in my foot. Now I am awake and I got to be up at eight. It’s two o’clock in the morning and I am wide awake. I took an Ativan to get back to sleep but it hasn’t kicked in yet.

I had canceled my appointment with my therapist for today but decided I need to talk to her because I feel suicidal. I had a bad pain out break last night and it put me in a bad mood, well, more than a bad mood. I would take some more neurontin but I don’t want to be goofy for six hours before passing out and then sleeping only for six hours. I just don’t know what to do. I keep thinking about ending my life and I can’t seem to think of a reason not to do it. I am sick of being in pain all the time. I can’t read, I can’t really write about stuff that doesn’t do with my pain and misery. I hate being miserable all the time. And the depression is weighing me down like a ten ton brick. I can barely breathe sometimes as I just feel like I have this weight on my chest. And nothing seems to work for me. There is no pill I can take to relieve this pressure. No pill for the anguish and heartbreak I feel every day. Just the emptiness inside of me that no one sees except me. I just feel like I would be better off dead.

Easter ramblings

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

It’s six thirty in the morning and I just can’t seem to go back to sleep. I got a million things on my mind that I have to do. I just did one, cancel my group for this week. I don’t want to go back but I am too afraid to say that just yet. I will eventually.

I had a good Easter, stuffed my self silly with a delicious ham that my sister made. I just couldn’t help but eat it.

I am trying an experiment with my pain meds. I am going to try and see if I can get off them without causing withdrawals or a bad pain cycle to ensue. Day one has been ok, though my ankle at night was testing me. It was really hurting but I was so tired I ignored it and it seemed to have settled down some. It still hurts but not at the same level. I always have pain in my ankle and foot. It is so common that sometimes I don’t even notice it. I have gotten so used to it.

I have decided to put the book that I am writing on hold. I really don’t think it is going to become of anything. I don’t know anyone in the writing world to make it happen anyways. I don’t even know how to write a manuscript. Right now, the paper is more like a long essay than a book. It’s about twenty pages long, the shortest book ever written.

Every morning at 0821 and 0921 I get a call from “unknown”. I ignore it because I don’t know who it is. It is very annoying. One day last week they called me three times, every hour. I was going to answer and yell at them but I would feel stupid if it was an automatic voice recording calling my number. My yelling would go unheard. So for now, I just ignore the phone call. If it was something important, I am sure they would have left a voicemail message saying so (which they have not). I just hate it because the calls wake me up and I hate being up before nine.

I’m not sure what I am going to do today. I cancelled my group. I should call my LTD and set up a payment plan with them but I am not sure I am ready to haggle with them. It is partly their fault for not letting me know that I had to let them know I was collecting SSD.

Baseball season starts today. I can’t wait. I really hope this year turns out to be a good year for the Sox. I’ll be wearing the uniform to try and give them some luck. But for now I think I will try and take a nap before my therapy.

Therapy pissed me off. I just got very annoyed with her and event though I said so, she annoyed me more! I just can’t take her stupidity. I really can’t. I’m going back to bed. Maybe a nap will put me in a better mood to watch the Sox game.