Tag: psychotherapist

stigma and suicide

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders, psychache, suicide, suicide attempt, writing

Stigma and suicidality
“Among the 10 leading causes of death in the U.S. most are claiming fewer lives each year but sadly suicide is on of the few that continues to rise. Depression and other diseases of the mind that contribute to suicide are real illnesses, not weaknesses. Not character flaws. People battling these illnesses deserve understanding and treatment afforded people with any other llness.” Robert Gabbia AFSP Executive Director.

There is a stigma out there that mental illnesses are not real. That if you just pull your boot straps up you will be ok and not suffer from depression. I have a friend in Canada, a place where the suicide rate is higher than the US because they are still in the dark about treating depression and other mental illnesses. Like Mr. Gabbhia states this is not a character flaw or a weakness. This is real. It takes character and strength to admit there is something wrong and to see help for it. And if you don’t succeed the first time try again until you do.

If I didn’t try and try again, I probably wouldn’t be here today. I probably would have taken my life. I have seen over 10 therapists over the course of my treatment for my mental illness. My current therapist I have been with for the past twelve years and it has been the a huge difference. With the stability of treatment providers I don’t go to the hospital as much and with the value of trust between us, I can state my suicidal feelings without being held against my will in some treatment facility. I am open about how I feel with my therapist but it took a long time to get to where I was. It took about 3-4 years to really trust her and for her to trust me.

I say that it takes trust between us because most therapist are under the believe that all people that have suicidal thoughts should be hospitalized immediately if they cannot be held to safety contracts, which are worthless. Therapist think this is the way to go but it is not. It just takes the legality of it all away from the therapist and really does not put trust in the relationship. Nor does it build an alliance with the therapist because the client is always in fear of being put into the hospital for fear of stating their true feelings. Is that how therapy is supposed to go? Again you have the stigma that if you talk about suicide, you will cause suicide. That is a common myth that everyone still believes is true except for those that actually deal with it. Like me and other suicidologists around the country. Those that deal with suicide are afraid of being sued but there are measures that can be taken so that it is not as frightening as it is. I am not saying that the person with a loaded gun or is in eminent danger and threatening suicide should not be hospitalized and that that gun or other means NOT be taken away. I am saying for those that are chronically suicidal be given a chance that doesn’t include the hospital all the time. In the course of my therapy over the past twelve years I have been hospitalized 4-6 times, compared to twice a year for the previous ten years.

For resources on dealing with suicide:
http://www.suicidology.org the American Association of Suicidology.

Jobes, D. A. (2006). Managing suicidal risk: A collaborative approach. New York, NY: Guilford Press.
Michel, K., & Jobes, D. A. (2011). Building a therapeutic alliance with the suicidal patient. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association; US.

Nemo, The Blizzard of 2013, New England

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders, psychache, suicide, transgender, writing

Nemo, The Blizzard of 2013, New England

I have lived in Boston most of my life and the craziness every time the word “snow” is mentioned is wicked funny. People go crazy in the stores thinking the world is going to end. They buy ridiculous amounts of milk, eggs, bread and other items that will probably go bad if the power goes out during the supposed storm. I have been taking pictures since noon time to compare the accumulation for my friends in the UK and elsewhere. It is kind of fun doing so.

Right now I am installing software on my old laptop because the software is not compatible on my new laptop. I have to get a newer version for it but I am not going to pay another $80 USD for this software when my old laptop can still run it. Even if I did it would take me years to figure it out like when I first bought this software. I just wanted to burn CD’s. And it was complicated. I needed the 200 page manual to figure it out. I am not a software geek that is for sure.

On a personal note, I am a man again! My 7 and a half week siege of the menses has ceased. I can now go back to my manly clothing. I am so happy I think it knocked out the cutting urges finally. I still feel depressed but it’s just my normal level of depression. Though the psychache is still there. That has not lifted at all. I don’t think that ever will. It’s always there like a monkey on my back. I am going to try and work in a shower today. I really need it and then I can slip into my boxers again. I am so relieved that stopping the OCP’s worked. I was really getting worried that something was wrong.

Ramblings 24

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt, writing

Took out my back today while doing little things around the house. I am in bed now. My groceries came this morning and I have been up since 7. I hate waking up early but it was an early delivery. I guess I did too much going up and down the stairs as well. I hate my ankle being weak. But on good news I stuck to my diet, pretty much, so that is a good day.

I wish mood-wise it was a good day. I have been up and down all day, sometimes on the verge of crying and still wondering why I should still be around.

I passed on information to my favorite DJ at the country music station I listened to and my name got announced on the radio. I was wicked excited! Gloriana is going to be singing the National Anthem at Gillette Stadium Sunday for the AFC Championship game. So excited to see them in New England!! My favorite DJ and I have been tweeting on and off since I signed up so it was quite a tweet to get the message as I wasn’t listening to the radio at the time! I don’t usually listen anymore unless I remember to turn on the Tune In Radio app on my tablet.

Tomorrow is supposed to be a get together for my old workplace. I would go but I am broke, having spent the last of my money on my groceries and I don’t get paid again until next week. Would have been good to go out but I hate going into a bar and being around drunk people, especially when the start of hockey season begins tomorrow night. People tend to be loud and obnoxious so I tend to avoid those places. But it was my suggestion. I might make an appearance and just have a coke or something.

Read an interesting article about suicide today that was not by someone suicidal but someone who just talked about it without it being depressing or concerning. It was someone who was sharing their thoughts about it as he knew a few people who committed it. It was on the freshly pressed version of wordpress and I think the blog was called “On Suicide”. Also read a good blog about the silence of gays. I know that I am open but you don’t hear people talk about homosexuality like you used to unless it has to do with gay marriage. I myself have never thought of being in a long term relationship with anyone so it’s a null point with me. Hell it took 10 years just to find a therapist willing to put up with me for 12. That is the longest relationship I have ever had. Strictly professional but therapy is a type of intimate relationship.

It was pretty cold today and I didn’t go out. I wanted to but I just couldn’t bring myself to get dressed. I wanted to go to the bakery to get some scali bread but didn’t. It was cold in my room and I just couldn’t get out of my warm bed to get dressed. Course my back is aching me for lugging my powerade up the stairs. I bought 20 bottles to last me for a month or so. I drink it to take my meds as I can’t take them with water as some of them dissolve quickly with water or just taste gross.

The one thing I have to say is that with TuneIn Radio I hear the same commercials at each commercial break. I wonder if it is the same with real radio?

why i think about suicide

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, physical pain, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

Suicide is the ultimate escape. The place you can go to when all seems and feels hopeless. I often think about killing myself at least twice a day or more if I am feeling really hurt and hopeless. Pain is another reason I think about suicide. Pain can be either physical or mental for me. Mostly these days it’s mental. I do not like myself. I loathe myself to the degree I would rather be dead than live this way. I hate the way I look. I hate the way my body is. I am ugly and disgusting and no one can tell me otherwise. My therapist says that I have a form of body dysmorphic disorder because I loathe myself so much. It’s just another reason to kill myself. Another reason to end my life.
Yet despite all this loathing and self-hating and pain, I’m still alive. I’ve come up with a date to end my life. I have decided that 38 years of living is long enough, or close to it anyways. I try not to think about it I try to think of now and live but its just too damn hard when you have to force yourself to breathe everyday. Sure the lungs work automatically but to actually breathe freely without this elephant sitting on your chest, that is what I am talking about. I used to say weight on the chest but what is that exactly. Not very accurate visually. Unless you have been to a gym and know what a weight is and looks like, most people don’t know. An elephant is easier to visualize and imagine better.
Right now I am at a café in a bookstore in Harvard Square. I bet no one knows that I am suicidal. They just see a guy writing in a notebook, drinking a lime soda. That what kills me. The invisibility of it all. These thoughts are mine and mine alone, unless I speak of it like I am doing now. No one knows. No friend or family member knows except my therapist and psychiatrist. Sometimes guilt will make me not want to commit suicide. I feel bad because I have worked with these caregivers for more than a decade. MY psychiatrist I have worked with for almost two decades. Yet I don’t but do care how they will react to my suicide. Will their attitudes change? Will they refuse to see other clients who are suicidal? Most will.
My therapist keeps saying I am the exception not the rule. But I am tired of living in constant misery. Misery that only the blog world knows about. I can’t share my misery with others because I have become so ingrained to keep it to myself. I keep it to myself so as not to worry my friends and family members. They wouldn’t understand anyways. My family is not one of openness. I am not blaming them for how I turned out. I don’t blame anyone but myself for my suicidal thoughts. It’s my fault. Maybe if I got help sooner I wouldn’t be this way but that is doubtful, it took me twelve years of therapy to realize what the root of my suicidality was. I was suicidal since I was eight years old. It wasn’t because I was abused (although I have been by multiple family members) but not at that ago. Suicide just came to me at that ago and has been with me ever since. I didn’t like myself back then anymore than I do now. But it was because of reasons I had not thought of. Reasons I could not articulate like I can now as an adult. I realized I was a girl and I didn’t like it. I developed into one an hated it. But I couldn’t say anything to anyone, not even my best friend from childhood because back then you just didn’t say what you felt or what you thought. I would have fallen on deaf ears and it’s not like psychiatry/psychology is like it is now. I have always felt like an outcast and coming out as a “boy” would have further set me into outcast land.
Just like when I thought I was a homosexual, I thought of killing myself. I felt like I was severely psychotic liking another woman. Again I didn’t say anything to anybody, not even my therapist at the time because I was fearful of being committed to the hospital. I already had a few by this point. But I met a fellow inpatient that showed me it was ok to be gay and I’m grateful for that.
My therapist now does what she can for helping me accept being a transgender but part of me always wonders whether one day she will have me committed for these thoughts. And I don’t mean the suicidal ones.
Why am I not in the hospital if I am chronically suicidal? Because I’m not “actively” suicidal. If I was in imminent danger to myself, like I was going to do it right this second, at this very moment, I would be hospitalized, probably against my will.
But at this stage I just feel like my telling my providers I’m suicidal is like me crying wolf. I’ve said this so many times I don’t really think anyone believes I will act on it. Hell I don’t even feel like I will act on it. I want so much to die and though I have made active plans to kill myself, I am still here. I have not attempted in several years now. At this point I wish it could be just a wish that I could be granted at anytime. I sometimes wish I lived in the times of the Ancient Greeks where if you constantly asked for permission, eventually you were granted permission and “allowed” to kill yourself with hemlock. Now the governments of most societies say it’s all part of mental illness and every life should be saved. Now do you see why I am not vocal on my suicide thoughts. I have to keep them secret for fear of commitment. But a hospital stay is not what I need. Being six feet under and pushing up daisies is what I desire. That is truly what I want.
Somehow between my last “attempt” seven years ago, I lost my lethality. I lost the will to truly die. Even though I wish to be dead on a constant basis, don’t get me wrong, I have no will so to speak to truly act on my thoughts anymore. I lost the intensity of my constriction, my narrow minded thinking. Because of this I am still alive though I desperately wish I was dead.