Mentioning of suicide, therapist panics

Mentioning of suicide, therapist panics

I had been seeing an interim therapist while waiting to go to college after I graduated high school. I was seeing someone in the local mental health center and I was supposed to see her for the summer as my current therapist got laid off due to budget cuts.

Some where in the middle of that summer, I reach the lowest point in my life, about three weeks away from when I was going to leave for college up in Maine. Like anyone else would do, I told my therapist that I was having suicidal feelings. She then did something totally unexpected. She took a deep breath, held it, let it go, and then sat there stunned like I shot her with a taser or something. She didn’t know what to do. She asked if I needed to be seen by someone in the emergency room and I forget if I did or not. I think I did because I got to the local hospital and was admitted for two weeks. I was glad my summer job had come to a close so I didn’t have to worry about work.

What I didn’t realize was that suicide is a big deal in the mental health field. The therapist didn’t want to take me back after my admission so I was stuck seeing a resident who basically said it was her or the hospital. I didn’t have a choice of people to talk about my feelings of being suicidal. Sure they were fine in the confined settings of a hospital stay but were taboo on an outpatient setting. I always knew I was high risk and it wasn’t until I entered into the field of suicidology did I really understand what it meant to be suicidal not just as a patient but as a clinician as well. I am not a clinician but I do have a clinical way of thinking about things. I might not be trained (yet) but I have more experience in therapy than a new graduate or even someone who has spent their lifetime doing this. I like to think of myself as an expert but then all people who have attempted suicide feel that they are.

What strikes me is the legality of the dreaded no-suicide contracts, the risk for malpractice, the ethical responsibility of the patient in the course of therapy, and the risk of losing the patient. Those are some pretty big reasons NOT to take on a client but what if you were in the situation that I was in. I already had an “established” therapist and she got cold feet when I told her I was thinking about killing myself. And in the age of the internet, I find that I am not the only one who has had this experience. I also have had trouble finding another therapist. My current therapist, though she still gets anxious when I talk about suicide, is thirty miles from me and I don’t have a car. We communicate solely by phone unless I can take my sister’s car every so often to drive out the forty-five minute to hour drive both ways. I have tried to find a therapist within a five mile radius of my house and have failed, not once, not twice, not three time, but ten fucking times!!! That is right, I called ten different therapists and they all turned me down because I had a history of being suicidal. It hurts and sucks. They just asked the question, I answered honestly, and got either referred to another therapist or was turned down outright. So I was stuck with the far away therapist. I then got hospitalized during the course of trying to find a therapist I could see face to face and when I did, he was scared of me. I mean beads of sweat were coming down his face and he had a high pitched, nervous laugh. I could tell he did not want to treat me. He didn’t want to lose me because I was such a high risk person. What makes you high risk? Having a significant history of suicide attempts, history of being abused either physically, emotionally or sexually or all three, constant suicide thoughts, and feeling hopeless. There are other criteria but those jump out at me as the most significant. I once went to a suicidology conference where I listed the prominent symptoms of my condition and had it reviewed by one of the suicidologists at the conference. He didn’t want to touch this person with a ten foot pole. I never felt so hopeless before in my life. I knew at that point that there was no hope for me, that I was destined to always be suicidal, or at least have suicidal thoughts. But it shocked me that this expert had no advice for me other than good luck.

To be a suicidal patient and have no where to go is a tough situation. You depend on the therapist to be there for you and to talk openly about any topic you want to talk about, including suicide. But what do you do when the therapist has no clue? You would think that the therapist would know how to handle the situation. You are after all trusting this person to give you advice about your life. It seems kind of too late to start the training now while you are in crisis on what to do. It’s not like you can put your life on hold while the therapist gets a clue. All I can say is to be patient. Don’t buy into a no suicide contract, they don’t work. Go to the American Association of Suicidology’s website to help both you and your therapist. There are not too many therapists that know how to handle suicidal crises every where and each state has their own rules regarding suicidal safety. The best advice I can offer is to both be honest with one another and to listen to each to whether out the storm of the suicidal feelings. Have a safety plan in place. Use a crisis response plan. Pick up a book on Managing Suicidal Risk by David Jobes and give it to your therapist. If the therapist says she or he cannot work with you anymore, find someone who can. That might take some doing and some time but you can find someone that is not afraid of suicide.

Guilt trip

Since putting the suicidal plan off the table, I’ve been feeling like I’ve let myself down, almost to the point of feeling ashamed of myself for doing so. I don’t know why I feel this way. But it sucks. I can always put it back on the table and the past few hours I have been thinking about it. What would it belike to hang myself somewhere? I would kill myself in my car but I don’t want to be found my family members. I wish the car was useful and could take me to a rest spot some place away so I could die. Yes I might have placed the ultimate date of killing myself off the table but the thoughts of killing myself are still rampant.

I’m supposed to go out with friends tonight but I really don’t feel like it. We will be going to Olive Garden, a place I like but I just don’t have the energy to put a smile on my face and pretend all is right with the world. I ended up going and it was worse than I imagined. I feel like I have been scarred for life. While going to the women’s bathroom I was suddenly aware of my misplacement. I felt like a girl as I was in there with girl underwear. It was the most awful feeling in the world. I hate myself more than I ever have right now. SO much for this being a good evening.

It was raining earlier while I was writing this and I talked about wanting to go to the Chinese restaurant across the street from Starbucks. They usually have a lunch buffet but they didn’t today for some reason. Maybe I was too early. I had McDonald’s instead.

I should have brought my laptop today so I would have typed this up while thinking about rather than dictating it as I am now. But then I probably would just go on Facebook and play my games and be distracted too much to write anything. I am not hooked on Candy Crush.

Getting back to guilt it’s depressing me. I feel lost, like I should have known better than to give up MY hopes of ending my suffering. I don’t know why I put a stop to my plans. Guilt always seems to work. It works to stop me and it works to make me feel bad that I don’t give in to my impulses. I don’t know what stopped me this time. My therapist didn’t have much to do with it as I usually defy her anyways. I guess I felt that my friend JD non response to my message to him and me feeling non-suicidal all of two weeks caused the shift. Now I am feeling depressed and don’t feel like I have a way out. I’m trapped again in the land of the living. I so wish I could wish my life away. Give my life to a patient dying of cancer and have them go on while I die or something. I don’t feel despairing. Just feel anguish that I can’t quelch.

I feel so lost, like something is missing. It has been months that I have been planning on taking my life and now that it’s no longer in the works, I feel lost, dejected, defeated. I didn’t go through with the act. So I feel a sense of longing. Like if I have to go through with it and I do die, I will accept my fate. But if I don’t die, then I will also accept my fate and not try again. I just wish I did go through with it. It’s a longing like I have never experienced before. It’s like I am not good enough to die or something. I know that sounds silly. How can I be too good to die? Maybe it should be that I am not bad enough to kill myself. I’ve planned my death numerous times over the years. I have never gone through with any of them. I feel like I am stuck in limbo. Do I live or do I die.

I guess I will never know. I just continue to live in this misery called life. And I don’t like it.

End of Story

I had a difficult day, though I slept through most of the day. I still have bad cramps and after taking a shower tonight, my leg is not acting up. I thought I was done with the pain and dreams of going back to work were filling in my head. But I guess I stood too long in the three song shower. Literally it takes me three songs to take and be done with a shower, four if one of the songs are short. I brushed my teeth.

It has been a hot week so I have taken a shower nearly every day. But today I guess my foot had enough. I just took pain meds. There isn’t a baseball game on tonight so I won’t be up late.

I am thinking about calling my cousin Paul but I don’t know if I want to talk. I kind of am discouraged and feeling really bad with the menses and the cramps are really getting to me. I still can’t believe that I got my menses. I really thought the patch was going to work. I will try again after. I only have about a month and half to live so I don’t see the point in making an appointment with my endo doc.

Been feeling down since last night. I think the good mood that I was in evaporated with the heat. I have been trying to feel good today but it has been such an effort. I got my hair cut from my cousin but he didn’t cut it short enough for me. I might go to the barbers on Wednesday like I was planning. I don’t know. I know a good hair SHORT haircut always makes me feel good.

I had therapy this morning. I don’t remember much except that I fibbed. I told my therapist that my plan was off but she didn’t believe me. I just couldn’t take talking about it with her anymore. She kept on asking stupid questions. She wants me to see a consultant. What am I going to say to him, really? I am going to kill myself and there is nothing you can do, have a nice day? Why bother involving him? Doesn’t make sense to me. Not like he is going to help me. He doesn’t have anything useful that I could use. I would have found it by now. I am tired of being in pain. END OF STORY. And by the end means taking my life, so be it. I am kind of scared though. I never have meant it like I mean it now. I just want relief. I want to be pain free. I don’t want to be stuck taking pain pills for the rest of my life. Funny how I am comfortable taking my psych meds though. I know I need those for my well being, not that they work the greatest. It is just enough to keep me out of the hospital. But I still get psychache at points in my life and it brings me down. I want reprieve. I don’t think I am asking too much. I know a lot of people suffer every day, but I am now one of those people and I can’t bear it anymore.

Your Word

I think I should just give up sleep. I just can’t get sleepy tonight. I have my head racing a mile a minute and the voices won’t shut up so I am playing music because it is the only thing that calms me down. I had to go up on my meds to quiet them out. I love when I have three conversations going on in my head at once. It gets loud and noisy. Drives me crazy. Just picture a crowded lunch room with a bunch of people talking at once. That is what is going on in my head right now. Doesn’t help that I should not have had the sausage for dinner. My stomach is killing me. I just took some antacid. I wish I could fall asleep but it just isn’t happening. I am too wound up. The voices keep asking me questions. What am I doing? what am I writing? How am I feeling? What do you think of this? What do you think of that? UGH I just want to sleep and they just don’t get it. Least they aren’t telling me what to do. But I am scared the new voices, the ones that are having a big conversation might turn against me. Then I will have to go to the hospital. I would hate that.

I don’t know why I have been so angry lately, more annoyed, than I have been. Started with someone calling me a bullshitter. I am not. I can’t even if I tried and then you will know that it is. I did realize that if I don’t go through with my plans to end my life, I will be breaking a promise to myself and I don’t know if I can live with that because I have let myself down so many times. That is why I keep future dates. But this time I really mean it. I am not going to see 2014. I just can’t face another year of being in pain. I know I should learn to live with it but I just can’t. I can’t break a promise to myself that I will end the suffering. What started this all was reading today’s AAS (American Association of Suicidology) blog. I felt like I could go on if only I could live with the pain. But I can’t. It’s too unbearable. It might not be all the time. It might not be every day. But when it hits, I just want to curl up and die. But instead I am just popping pills. I am a pill popper. And I don’t like it. I am ashamed of it. But with out these pills, I am in horrific pain. And isn’t it better that I am not in pain while popping these pills? It’s a catch 22 and you can’t eat your cake too. Though I would have loved some cake tonight. I miss having desserts. I used to have pie all the time when I was at work but then the pies got sucky and I switched to cake. Some cakes were better than others. I wouldn’t eat the frosting, just the cake part because that is what I like, with a little bit of frosting not a glob. Though sometimes in my moods for chocolate, I will eat the frosting, if it isn’t too sweet. But I digress…

Right now my stomach and throat hurt. Not because of the same reasons. I knew I shouldn’t have had the greasy sausage so that is why my stomach is acting up. My throat is acting up because I still have whatever virus or bacteria I caught last week. I have the A/c going because it is quite warm in my room and humid. I cannot stand humidity. So now I am freezing in my winter pjs and have my comforter on. Oh well.

What does your word mean if you don’t keep it? I mean we all make promises to ourselves all the time. We promise to go on a diet, to go to the gym, etc. but what if you make a promise to kill yourself? How can you not keep that promise when it means so much to you? I am struggling with that question. I mean if you give your word to someone, you generally keep it, least I do. That is why I am still here. Because I have kept my word to her that I would not kill myself. But what about my word to myself? Don’t I get the same kind of respect? Am I disrespecting myself by not keeping my word to MYSELF? I don’t know. Maybe promises to yourself are meant to be broken and only those for others are to be kept. It just hurts that I have to live to please others when I am disrespecting myself knowing that I should be dead.

Also what has been ticking me off is that the prez of the AAS thinks he can stop suicide from ever happening. He is fooling himself. I half want to say to him, dude, if you can save me you can save the world but I don’t tell him my true feelings. How can I in 140 characters on twitter? Even the founder of the AAS has stated that he does not want to live in a world where suicide doesn’t exist. Suicide is and always will be an individual choice that no one else can make but you. So why am I still hanging on?