Enduring the unendurable

I thought I would try and write a little bit about my thinking about suicide and what it means. I have spent the last hour reading up on Shneidman’s psychache, the psychological pain that encompasses you to think only about ending the pain, even if it means ending your life. Then I read some more about the factors that go into psychache and suicidal thinking. It was a refresher course in knowing about suicide as psychache.

In getting to what my therapist wanted to me to write about constriction, there really is nothing to write. It is a term concocted by Shneidman that basically means you are fixated on one thing to ease your pain. But what I did come across, that is interesting, is what the Emperor of Japan said to his people after the end of WWII. He basically told them to “endure the unendurable and suffer what is unsufferable” so as to contain any suicides as the Japanese are an honorable country. That thinking is the formula for outliving a suicidal crisis.

I have been feeling good the past few days and don’t know why. I don’t know if it is hypomania or what but my mood has totally did an about face. It is eerily weird to feel so carefree. Yet in the back of my mind I am scheming and plotting to end my life in two months. Least that is what I think I am thinking. But then my friend from Nebraska reconnected with me. I am thinking that maybe I can take the Emperor’s advice and try to keep enduring the unendurable. I know I say this now that I am not experiencing any dysphoria or physical pain. I just can’t think that I can stop thinking about killing myself is somehow contributing to my euphoric feelings because I know I have a way out of my suffering. It is a funny place to be, and I don’t mean the ha ha kind of funny. I never have felt good for more than a few days at a time and this go round will be almost a week that I have felt up.

Since reconnecting with my college friend, I feel that I must tell him that I might not be around that much longer. I think he has the right to know as we have been friends for almost fifteen years now. But will I cause worry? Will he believe me when I tell him this? Or will he just chalk it up with the myth that talking about it means you won’t do it? I won’t know until I tell him. I rather he find it out from me than from someone else, though seeing as we have few friends in common, the likelihood of him finding out will be slim/next to none. But then I wonder how many of my friends will find out that I have died. I thought of writing a note to someone to tell them what to do as I don’t think my family would be able to do it but I don’t think that I can do that. Most likely that friend would ignore me or think that I am just talking.

picking dates

I started writing my lyrics book. I don’t know if I will ever get it published because of copyrights but I will worry about that when I am close to finishing.

I was supposed to get my blood work done today but I forgot my lab slip and headphones but didn’t want to miss the bus so I guess it will have to be another day.

It always surprises me the way people think about suicide and suicidal thinking. They think that you must be angry at someone or something. That something is keeping you here or you would have done it or that you are all talk until you do it. Or that you have to be in some mega pain (correctly so) to think of such things. I guess there still is some people that think that because they have had some experience with suicide because they themselves have thought about or even acted about it, they think they are experts. Well they are, to a degree. Not all people want to help after they have attempted. Some shy away from it and call it just a bad experience and vow never to go down that road again. Some continue to be suicidal, like myself. But I still want to help those that are suffering because it means that someone cares.

I have been writing for months (or what seems like months) about having a suicidal plan. The only people that know are my readers and my therapist. I am fearful of bringing up the subject with my psychiatrist for being hospitalized against my will. There are days, like today, that I don’t think I will go through with my plan. Then there are times that I think I will just for kicks and giggles. But the hardest part of this crazy plan is that it is not too detailed. I have a vague idea about what exactly I will be doing to kill myself. And because of this vagueness, I feel that I shouldn’t go through with it. The last thing I want is another failed attempt. That would devastate me more than anything.

As I was writing my lyric book, the first song that was on my list of songs was O.A.R’s “Shattered”. How fucking fitting. All throughout my suicidal career, I have always seemed to “turn the car around” and get back to my bearings, meaning that no matter how bad things were for me, I got through it, somehow, some way. And I am talking pitch black darkness. I don’t know what got me through each battle. Someone’s kindness, the neediness of my nieces and nephew, the words of my therapist or psychiatrist. I just don’t know but I got through it and some how came out the other side unscathed.

When I was a teenager and young adult, I cut to relieve myself of the awful pressure and pain that I was feeling. Today, the scars remind me that there were bad times and I got through with them. They are sort of like hash marks for all the trials and tribulations that I have gone through in my life. I don’t talk about these scars with anyone. They are just there as a reminder that I have seen darker days and some how pulled through. It helps to have these scars because they are real. They are the reminders I need to pull through along the rough patches that I continue to face. It is like they are almost saying, “you go through that, you can get through this”.

The trouble is, this time I don’t know if I want to “turn the car around”. I want my suffering to end. I want my pain to end, both physically and psychologically. I am tired of fighting every day. But then I have days like today where the battle doesn’t seem to great and I make it another day. But I am so scared of what tomorrow or tonight might bring. I never know when my demons will emerge from the darkness. So I have a date I look forward to. A date that will decide my fate, to test my resilience. To see if I will go through with ending my life. It is after all my choice. No one can really stop me for if not this date, then I will just pick another date.

Next song on my list is Linkin Park’s “numb”. How fitting.

games and suicidal thinking

Woke up feeling energetic today but after my therapy appointment, my throat was hurting from talking for an hour and I lost my zip. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, and then went back to bed, though I didn’t sleep. I just kind of played on the computer. I am still playing Pioneer Trail, though I don’t know why. I think only about 10 of my 150 neighbors are still playing, which makes it difficult to get things for your homestead. I am also playing the dreaded Candy Crush saga. I had to see what the hype was about and wish I never did. I started playing on my phone then moved on to the computer. HUGE MISTAKE! So after I am bored with twitter and checking status updates on Facebook, I will be playing candy games. One thing I HATE about playing it on my phone is the dreadful music. It sounds like a funeral march or something. I have to turn the sound off to avoid it but then when I play my MP3s and no sound comes on I am like WTF till I remember that the sound is off.

I read my therapist my last blog entry. I think I really have a bozo for a therapist. She didn’t get the point of the blog. Think we spent like 5-10 minutes talking about it and then she wanted me to write a blog about constriction. I was like, where did that come from. She really thinks that I am in this blinders thinking about my plan. I know I am, that is why I am planning on killing myself! DUH! You don’t have to tell me I am suicidal when I am planning on killing myself. I can’t seem to be able to talk myself out of it. I am going to be true to my word this time around. How can I not be? I am tired of being in pain. I am tired of fighting everyday. I am tired of struggling. Why should I continue my lousy existence?

I tried again with my psychiatrist to get an appointment though I am feeling what is the use? Not like she has some radical new drug for me to try to help this ache I feel inside. I doubt a pill would help cure me of my suicidal tendencies. My therapist has threatened to tell her what is going on with me but has not. I can’t bear to tell her for fear of her throwing me back in the hospital and it’s not like the hospital is going to do anything for me except piss me off, and screw up my pain meds.

I see my primary tomorrow. I hope that he can do something about this throat pain that has been bothering for almost two weeks now. Every time I think I am getting better it flares up again. I still have a cough that likes to kick up every now and again. My sides are killing me from it. It is annoying. I am kind of thinking I will be placed on antibiotics but I am hoping not as I hate taking them.

My writing friend is in England right now. She will be there for a week. She said to write emails to her about my writing progress but I kind of don’t want to. It’s not that I have to or anything. I don’t think she is going to respond as she doesn’t have internet connection up there. I guess she is in the countryside of England so why bother when I know I won’t be getting a response. Much like my psychiatrist that doesn’t respond even with all her gadgets. I get frustrated with her when she doesn’t return emails, in a reasonable amount of time, like a day or two. I know she is busy and might not get the email right away but come on, it has been almost a week since I last emailed her and still NOTHING. So I sent her another email today asking for an appointment. I still have not heard anything. FRUSTRATING!

So maybe I will write a blog about constriction over the weekend. Not like my therapist is going to read it anyways…

a useless therapy session

I had a pretty exhausting but good day. I had a little hypomania for most of the day but that seems to have dissipated now. I have not crashed yet but I know it is coming on. I am dreading it. Given that I already have suicidal tendencies in the forefront of my mind, it is going to be hard to get away from this crash, depending on how bad it is. I was euphoric for nearly a day and a half, the longest I have ever been in such a long, long time. But I think a migraine interfered with it since I have taken my migraine med I have been feeling calmer and the racing thoughts have stopped.

I am listening to the ball game because I cannot stand watching the game while Dennis Eckersley is announcing. So I am listening rather than watching. I like listening to Joe Castiglione. He has a calming radio announcers voice.

I gave my therapist the blog that I wrote the other night, before my euphoria. It is so weird that I wrote so darkly and then felt the complete opposite within 12 hours. I met with her today as I had my sister’s car. We did not go into overtime. This week I am meeting with her four times. I know that might seem excessive but given my mood swings, it will be good. My thoughts were all over the place while I was talking. I didn’t know exactly what to talk about as she didn’t do her homework of reading the Managing suicidal risk forward that I told her to. I didn’t even see the book on her desk when I came into her office so I know she didn’t read it. I forget now why I wanted her to read it other the fact Shneidman praises Dr. Jobes work. I was kind of hoping that she would pull out an SSF (suicide status form) but my mind was going a hundred directions at once. I don’t remember half of what we did talk about other than me feeling like superman. She wanted permission to talk to my psychiatrist, which I consented. I don’t know what she will say. She thought that since I was euphoric I would give up my idea of being suicidal but I was too giddy to say yes to that. Maybe I was feeling good because I know there is an end to my pain. Wouldn’t be the first time I felt ok after making the decision to end my life. But I also wonder if I felt good because the pain I have been feeling is finally gone for the time being. I did tweak my ankle today just stepped wrong while looking for something in my room. We talked about my pain meds being a factor but for it to last more than a day, I find that highly unlikely. I know the pain med might still be floating in my system but I doubt it would have lasted till now.

I tried to stay focused with the letter/blog. I know I talked about how I got four more followers to make it 190 right now. I am pretty proud of my blog. I know that I touch people with it. And I do get some bloggers that provide feedback. I got a comment today about what I am writing, whether I am trying to reach out to people and I am not. I am just writing to express my feelings. I am not writing for sympathy.

As I got to see my therapist today, I got to see my big teddy bear, Johnny. I miss him. He is just a HUGE cuddly teddy bear. I love him since the day he entered my life 12 years ago. I got him as a gift when I had my first back surgery. He is so big that he couldn’t fit in the bed with me. I had to put him in a chair next to me. I told him today that he would have to take care of my therapist when I am gone. My therapist didn’t like hearing this but I have been telling her for years this.

We did talk about my writing my book. I told her that I would just put my stuff on dropbox for my friend to publish. I then had to explain what dropbox was as my therapist is technologically inept. I really don’t think my book will ever get published. But from what I gather from writers is that you just have to keep writing in order for that to happen. I still want to get a good publisher like scholar or some kind of press but I am not sure I can ever hit the big leagues. I know there are some self publishing companies but I don’t really have the dough to make that happen. And I doubt I would make the best sellers list. I know my blog is successful but I don’t think my life will make the big leagues in the book world. Most people have gone electronic anyways.

I feel like I need another cup of Java I am so tired but I have been up since six this morning. It is now eight thirty in the evening. I just took my night time meds. But I can’t go to sleep just yet because I am listening to the game.

I am starting to feel like shit mentally. I am wondering if I should go back to the hospital but that just always gives me more problems than it is worth sometimes. I don’t really get the help that I need there, depending where I go. Mostly you are counseled by the nursing staff and they are ultimately make the decision on whether or not you can go, not the attending psychiatrist. You are lucky to see the attending more than 10 minutes. And that is not enough time to do any sort of assessment. They basically just ask you questions, are you safe, are you going to hurt yourself and if they questions are no for three days, they send you free. They don’t care what brought you in the hospital. Soon as you are in, your insurance company wants to set you free.