a phone call

One crazy day at work I received a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize. I let it go to voicemail as I figured it was some bill collector. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only did this person leave me a message for me to call him back but he said that it was urgent to do so. This man was Dr. Edwin Shneidman, the father of suicidology. He was a man I deeply respected because of his work in trying to understand psychache and suicide. He was the first pioneer to create a suicide prevention center in the United States. He has spent his life trying to develop a scale for psychache and psychological pain assessment. Psychache is the unbearable psychological pain (despair, grief, guilt, hopelessness, frustration, perturbation, and pain all rolled into one). It is this pain that he and I believe causes people to think about taking their life. I sent him my paper “Is suicide caused by psychological pain?” and he wanted to talk to me about the pain scales I had mentioned. He was fascinated that there was a scale to measure physical pain but (as I argued) not for psychache. He was always thinking about how to have a psychometric assessment to gauge a person’s psychache.

Dr. Shneidman began his career by interpreting suicide notes. He began collecting them after he was sent to the morgue for confirmation of suicide autopsy. He and his colleague Farberow lead the early work of this important tool in forensic suicidology. In addition to this, he also co-founded the Los Angeles Suicide Prevention Center, the first in the United States to have one.

His message to me was for me to return his call and quickly (he wasn’t in the best of health). I didn’t know what to say to him or what he wanted of me. I was extremely nervous. Looking back I don’t remember too much of what we talked about. I know that we were on the phone what seemed like a half hour or so. I was too stunned to really remember anything but I know that he talked about his ill health and that he wanted to know what the physical pain scale was so I printed some off for him and sent them post haste to his house in LA. He died about a month afterwards.
After our conversation, my therapist was convinced I was going to be the next Shneidman. I would continue to follow in his work and in a way I have in my own way. I have book or downloaded/printed every article he ever wrote on the subject. I have scores of files on him. I also have the same on David Jobes but that is another matter.

about sleep

Sleep is a wonderful thing unless you don’t get it.

Past few weeks I have been having some major troubles sleeping. I don’t know why as I take enough meds to knock out a horse. I sleep in 3 hr increments so I had a total of nine interrupted hours of sleeping, this is after I fell asleep at 6 am this morning. Now it is nine o’clock and I am still tired and want to go to sleep but I know that I won’t.

I knew I wouldn’t do much of anything today once it hit 4 am and I was still awake. I had something to eat, peas and rice, and now I am so full. I guess that is why I am so sleepy. For the first time all week I don’t have heartburn.

Tomorrow starts my motivation of a friend. I hope that I will be able to keep to task. My friend has faith in me so I hope I don’t let her down.

Going to finish watching M*A*S*H. I love the show. I got the whole season collection at a good price. Now I can watch it any time I want to, wish is now.

Until tomorrow and thank you for reading.

Holidays: struggle between meaning and hope

Our lives are filled with charades and facades. If you are depressed and don’t want anyone to know, the façade becomes even more ingrained with the self. On the outside, people see you as happy, maybe even without a care in the world while inside you are dying and hurting inside. It takes all the effort you have to make it through the day. At the end of the day, you are more tired than you were when you woke up. The mental exhaustion of a façade cannot be underestimated. This is the face of chronic depression at its worse.

What can really bring one to their knees is the holiday season, a time that is supposed to be filled with love, joy, giving, and happiness. How are you supposed to feel that when you feel like the scum of the earth most of the time? It is very difficult to hold two faces, the face that everyone sees with friends and family, coworkers, etc. and then the face that no one sees when you are alone at night, away from the demands of life. I have struggled for years with this façade and it has taken its toll on me. I think it takes a toll on every one. We cannot allow ourselves to feel down because we have to be the one that is strong for everyone else. It is this internal battle that we face, the “I feel sad and lonely inside but I have to pretend to be happy and feeling connected to others”. That is the struggle that leads to more hurt and pain on the inside. The hope for us is that tomorrow will be a better day, even though there is a part of ourselves that know that it won’t be. We cannot hide the pessimism. It is the real self that always shines through no matter what kind of happy façade we are pretending.

With the holidays, this struggle becomes more intense and the more intense it becomes, the more the disappointment we feel. If we act like a Scrooge, we are treated like a Scrooge and told to lighten up, if we act like Bob Cratchet, hiding the need for help, we end up losing Tiny Tim, which leads to depression of spirits much like the story goes before Scrooge intervenes in the end. Scrooge is one of my favorite all time movies and I think it really captures what it is like to be humble like Crachet and grumpy like Scrooge.

We all don’t always feel miserable all the time but there is a stress in the holidays that always seems unbearable. Psychiatric hospital admissions go up, the requests for detox goes up. Everyone wants to make a new start to the new year. And with that the hope that things will change. That the misery that is felt today will be gone tomorrow. That is the struggle those of us with chronic depression deal with every day and sometimes even those without depression have it as well.

100th Blog (ramblings 13)

This is my 100th blog. I had wanted it to be meaningful but I am still working on the meaningful part. I started writing it today on the father of suicidology and a man that means a lot to me. I got half way done and then got interrupted. I couldn’t finish a thought to save my life. I hate it when that happens…

I did get my glasses fixed today. It just needed a small adjustment and now I can see without things in my bifocal part being blurry. I ordered my bibliography program and my dad’s x-mas gift. Now I just need to get my mother, sisters, and kids something. One down and I don’t know how many others to go…

Been thinking about what happened the beginning of the week. If things had gone the way that I had wanted to, I wouldn’t have been here for Thanksgiving, or I would have been somewhere other than home. I can’t seem to get the desperation out of my head and now every time I have a pain that is a 5 or 6 I wonder if it will trigger something bad inside me. The demons really came out last Monday. I couldn’t stand because of pain and spasms. I just wanted it to end. And if I had the bottle of anti-spasm meds by my bedside, I know I would have taken the whole bottle until things did stop. I have had severe heartburn since that night. I think the stress of me becoming that way again is overwhelming me. I mean, I didn’t really do much that day except possibly stand too much and walk a few extra steps than I had to. I didn’t do any more stairs than to my room that day. And for whatever reason, just lying in bed reclining was enough to set off both of my feet into agonizing pain and spasms. I really just wanted to die because I couldn’t take my meds, couldn’t walk the few feet to my bureau to get them. I only had what was near me and then I passed out only to wake up at 0230 am. Sleep has not been good the past week. I think that has contributed to my mental deterioration. I sleep for a few hours and then I am up again. I just tired of everything but I just can’t sleep. Sure I can nap for a couple of hours but I don’t want to get into that habit. I really just want a solid six hours of sleep. I don’t think I am asking too much.