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.

hospitalizations

Feeling a little bit better today, not as gloomy. I still feel depressed however. I just can’t seem to get away from it. I wish the highs would return. I miss them.

I am the worst grilled cheese maker in the world. I tried, again to make one and burned one side while didn’t cook the other enough so it was soggy with butter. Or maybe I just put too much butter. I don’t know but I suck at making this meal. I even burned my gums because the cheese was hot. OUCH. I don’t think I will be making anymore grilled cheese any time soon. I’ll just have my mother make them! LOL

I am close to making a milestone with my blog. I got another 30 or so views to go before reaching 10K. If I do this before Thursday, I would be happy, least for a little bit. Thursday marks the one year anniversary for my blog. I am kind of excited that I will have 10K. I have been giving updates on my facebook page with the countdown and also with my Midnightdemons facebook page. I even got to reading my own blog because as I have said before, I don’t always remember what I write. Even when naming a blog I have to go through the search to see if I named a blog this already. I have over 300 blogs to far so it is hard to remember sometimes what I write.

Right now, I am working on another paper for Cauda Equina Syndrome (CES). I have noticed that a lot of people find my blog using search terms for CES. I think it would be a great idea if I had a fact sheet or something to tell beginners about this or those that have been newly diagnosed. It can be very terrifying to get this diagnosis and sometimes people just don’t get the care that they need or worse, don’t get diagnosed at all. I won’t go into specifics about the condition but if you are reading this and want to know more, go to http://www.caudaequina.org to learn more about this devastating condition. I have been living with this for twelve years and through my support group, have learned to live with it better.

Today I am supposed to go out with a friend to the movies. He is an eye doctor and works where as I am disabled and don’t work. The last few times he has paid for the movie tickets and I just got the popcorn (which can sometimes be as much as getting the tickets!) But this time I am short on funds. I have just enough just to get my Ativan prescription filled and then that is it for the next week and a half. I will be totally broke. I find it totally humiliating that I am again without cash funds for the third month in a row. I have tried budgeting this time and it didn’t work. When my check comes in, I have bills to pay and food to get. There usually isn’t a lot left over. I might have to cut my Starbucks fund but then I NEED my coffee and need to get out of the house so I can’t really cut my fix. The whole money thing is depressing me. I wish I was still collecting the long term disability but I owe them because I didn’t know you can’t collect SSD and LTD at the same time. So the money I was supposed to get, they are taking until my balance is cut off. Which will be in about twenty months from now, in which time, I probably will be off it. I don’t know what I am going to do then as there is no way I can afford to pay them with my SSD. I guess by then I can start working part time somewhere and have a little extra but I can’t do that now, especially when I am having splits and psychotic symptoms.

I have my meeting with my therapist tomorrow. I am kind of glad I do. I just am having a rough weekend. Thoughts of killing myself are still in the back of my mind and I so want to go through with it. I am just so tired of fighting with myself every day on trying to keep myself from going through with it, tired of putting on a “happy” face so my family doesn’t know I am depressed. Just so tired in general. I know I probably should be in the hospital but they will just kick me out in a few days if not two weeks. It’s really hard to stay past that length of time. The insurance just doesn’t want to pay. I get letters from my insurance (while in the hospital) that “Dr. so and so thinks you should be discharged but if you feel like this is wrong and need further care, talk to your attending doctor for an extension.” I’m like, really?? I am in the hospital and you send these to MY HOME. How am I supposed to refute what you are writing. Though my favorite is when these letters arrive AFTER discharge!! It is comical though not really. Not like I want to really stay in the hospital but I think some time there is beneficial. I don’t have to put up a façade every day like I do when I am home. I can sleep most of the day without it being too disruptive. But I would be lost if I didn’t have my games and my cell phone with me. I guess that is why I fear going in the hospital. I don’t want to lose access to my phone. I would hate not having music because I don’t have a separate MP3 player. It is my phone. I would be so lost without listening to music while in the hospital it wouldn’t be funny. And then trying to have a check in with my therapist would be impossible. I have had that happen to me one hospitalization where I couldn’t get a hold of my therapist and my therapist couldn’t get a hold of me because the floor phone was busy. I hated that. And the only reason they deny you using your phone is because it can take pictures. Like really? I am going to take picture of this place or a fellow inmate? For what? I am not the idiot that has to post 90 thousand pictures on Facebook or twitter or Instagram every single day. I use my phone for its use and for checking email. Sure I will be on twitter and Facebook but it will just be on MY status updates and not someone else’s. I won’t say that John smith is having a bad day and took a nutty and had to be restrained. That is not my place to. Though I did have one hospitalization that a patient actually kicked down the metal door of the unit. That was scary. He was a BIG dude. I was scared of him. He was kept mostly sedated for that reason after that. He was also psychotic. But now that I am thinking about it, so was I. He kept talking on his ipod thingy or maybe it was his phone, I don’t know. But only he was allowed to use it and the rest of us wasn’t. Totally not fair!!

So I guess that is why I am resistant to going in the hospital. I won’t have my cell phone to listen to music and make calls, check emails, and play my games. Seems right to me!

Dysphoria of sorts

All I want to be is DONE.

I didn’t know what to write about today. It’s taken me a long while to come up with something to write. I tried writing in my journal while I was at Starbucks but I just left a blank page. I have been feeling paranoid lately. I feel like everyone is watching me. There were a lot more people in the store today than there usually is so I guess it kind of prevented me writing. I was also really hot and wanted to just sit in the air conditioned room. I also wanted to enjoy my new iced coffee, Kati Kati. I got an email from Starbucks last night about it and so tried it today. It is a little stronger than my Isla Flores but it is ok. I loved it! It was the one joy on this dismal day.

I had therapy this afternoon. I really didn’t want to talk but then I got really suicidal. I had fantasies where I would hang myself off the back porch while my family would be at my cousin’s house for the 4th of July BBQ. We worked out a safety plan that didn’t include me downing a bottle of one of my medication. I am to write and go through my crisis response plan (to what that entails, check out this blog). If these things don’t work, I am to try and get in touch with my therapist, psychiatrist, or go to the hospital. I truly have crashed. I don’t have the energy to do anything. I have no motivation. I just want to crawl under a rock and die.

I knew this crash was coming. I just didn’t think it would come this fast. I think it just came at the beginning of this grief that I am feeling. I also am feeling trapped by living. I don’t want to live. I just want to die. Life to me is just worthless. Nothing gives me pleasure except that one coffee I have from Starbucks a day. And watching baseball games. Least I can get lost for a little while watching the games because each pitch keeps me entertained. I love when the batter keeps fouling pitches and the at-bat count gets about five. My sox are good at working the pitch count in their favor.

I texted my therapist about what to write. She told me to write about something but I forgot what that is. I think it was on feeling trapped but that has many definitions. I feel trapped because I am now forced to live this thing called life and I don’t want to. I feel trapped because I am in the wrong body. And that truly is what is depressing me. I know my hormones are still going whacky. I just think that this whole business of transitioning to another gender is too hard. I can’t even talk about it anymore. I am starting to feel like a freak. Sure I can dress in male clothes all I want but that doesn’t help my huge chest. I wish they were just man boobs (which I guess technically they are) but it distresses me. I can’t stand looking at myself in the mirror because I am ugly. I know that I have some form of body dysmorphic dysphoria. But if I already am dysphoric in general, does that mean that I have all the other dysphorias? I have gender identity disorder, how can I not. I want to kill myself because I am in the wrong body. I want to be a boy. And sadly, I don’t think that is ever going to happen because of my damn menstrual cycle. In order for me to get rid of my menses, I had to pretty much tell the doc that I get more than just the typical depression with my periods. I get down right suicidal. So pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder was tacked on to my list of diagnoses. Another female diagnosis. It is a good thing that I don’t have access to guns. I think I would have blown my brains out by now.

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?