Category: suicide

suicide ramblings

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, mood disorders, psychache, suicide, suicide attempt

Today was not a good day. I got hit with pain early this morning and I couldn’t go anywhere. While I was watching the baseball games I started knuckling my calf muscle to take the knots out of it. It helped the pain along with pain meds. I tried stretching my calf but it still would not get loose. But the pain is gone now so I am glad it is. Now I just got to remember what I did so that the next time pain hits that part of my leg I know what to do.

I wrote a paper today, again on the Aeschi model. You will hear me talk about this because it is essential to get the word out for people who are suicidal. I believe in this model because it is so straight forward and humane. I also talk about CAMS but even though I know more about the assessment of CAMs than I do about the actual CAMS model. CAMS is Collaborating And Managing Suicidality.

Yesterday was a big day for me. The blog that I write for, What Happens Now, http://attemptsurvivors.com/ , was put into print for the Associate Press on suicide attempt survivors. It made the news and the sad part is that I cannot share it with my family. I am somewhat saddened by this. I can share this with my friends and the internet world but I can’t share it with those I live with. It is sad. But I chose to not share it because I am afraid it will lead to questions about my own suicidality and I cannot bare the thought of sharing this information with my family. It’s bad enough when my Suicide and Life Threatening Behavior journal comes in, I get the glances of disgust. Suicide is not a topic of interest in my house like it is an interest of mine, if only because I think about it nearly every day.

Suicide has been an interest of mine since I was young. Now at nearly thirty years later and I don’t know how many attempts, I still think it is the only way out of my suffering. I have made a date this year that if things aren’t improved, I will go through with it. I can’t help but think that being dead is the answer to my problems. I know that people say that suicide is the permanent solution to temporary problem, but my leg pain and depression are not temporary. I have to live with this the rest of my life and if I choose not to, isn’t it my choice? Don’t I have the right to die if I so choose? I am not saying that I will commit suicide tomorrow but it is in the distant future that I will die. I am not promised tomorrow, no one is. I just think that I don’t have a purpose with my life. And a lifetime of being in chronic physical pain is not appealing to me. I just can’t go on knowing that every day I will be in some kind of pain that has no end. Or the fact that I have to be on pain medication for the rest of my life. I just can’t fathom that. I worry that one day I will be denied the medication because I have been on them for so long. I just can’t risk that happening. I am scared of that happening. I’m also afraid of people not believing that I am depressed because I joke around so much. I’m sorry that I have a sense of humor. It has helped me with my depression more than anything. If I didn’t have it, I told my psychiatrist, she had permission to commit me somewhere. My heart is so dark at times I can’t stand it. I feel like it should stop beating because I feel so dead inside. And this goes on day after day. There is no relief. I never feel alive and joyful. Just sad and despairing.

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…

blog post 266

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, suicide, writing

I have been up very early this morning. I don’t know why but I woke up at midnight and then went back to sleep for a few hours despite taking some Ativan. I guess when it wore off, I woke up and I have been up since. I had an appt today with my neurologist. Nothing new to add except to try yogi for chair sitting. Didn’t even know that existed. She said there are videos on Youtube. So I am going to try that as a form of exercise but if it hurts me, I am not doing it.

Today my back is out of whack because the temperature keeps fluctuating and tonight is going to go down to the twenties. So much for Spring to be here. This will suck for baseball tomorrow night if the temp in New York dips to the twenties, though I think they might be a little warmer than we are. Least I hope so. I also hope it doesn’t snow. I have never seen a baseball game postponed due to snow but I am sure there have been, just not this early in the season, and the season just started!!

Since I got the movie Lincoln, I have been obsessed with it. I have watched it at least 5 times so far. I am going to watch it again tonight as there is no baseball. I just love the movie. My goal is to learn it word for word like I have for the movie Titanic. I am the geek that went and saw that movie in theaters something like 16 times. I also have seen it at least a dozen or more times since owning it.

I am at an impasse with my therapist. I canceled tomorrow’s appointment and I don’t talk with her again till Monday. I thought I was going to not talk with her again for two weeks as she had schedule conflicts on our normal tues/thurs times. I need a break from therapy so I decided to cancel. She just annoyed me big time yesterday that I couldn’t stand talking with her again. We have been going at it 3-4 times a week for the past month. I need some time for myself. I know I am suicidal and it probably isn’t a good time to take a break but fuck it, I need it. Yesterday after she got off the phone, I took a large dose of a medication used for my nerve pain to knock myself out. It did anything but that. I was up for six hours before it finally knocked me out. Probably why I am having so much difficulty sleeping. But then my psychiatrist thinks the sleep difficulties are because of my pain medication. I haven’t taken my pain meds in a few days because I am trying to ween off of them. I am tired of my primary giving me a hard time about giving them to me. Also tired of him telling me I need to lose weight. Same story every time I see him. If I could walk, it would be no problem but seeing as I can’t walk without pain, it is a problem. Now the big dude thinks that I have tendonitis instead of it being nerve pain. I know it is nerve pain because it only flares up at night, even on a day that I am doing absolutely nothing but keeping my foot up or sleeping all day.

I am also at an impasse with my book. I have been told to leave it alone and it will come to me later but I am not so sure about that. It is really difficult writing your history about how you are at your lowest point and how you survived it. Sometimes I have no idea how I get through a crisis. I just somehow do. I would plan my death down to the last detail, set a date and somehow, still not go through with it. I know part of it is because of fear. Fear of failing or being disfigured or worse, being in a coma. I had a terrible dream the other night about getting into a car accident because a semi-truck went through a red light just as I was passing on green and I died instantly. Then my family had no clue what to do with me or my things. All I kept thinking about when I woke up was I should write a note should something happens so that they know who to contact and stuff. Give them my passwords to my laptop and email and let my online friends know that I have passed. Sounds morbid I know but if I were to die tomorrow, you guys would never know about it and this would be my last blog.