A Whole Big River
Yesterday I went on a crying spree that lasted off and on all day. I cried about everything- my dysfunctional family, my imperfect house, my swollen feet, the passing of my grandmother. Each time I cried it was catastrophic, my heart crushed in equal proportion regardless of the catalyst.
Whenever my sorrow over incomplete baseboards hurts me as deeply as a deceased relative, I’m engaging in what I like to call “La Fiesta Loco”. I’d love to blame it on hormones, but the fact is that I suffer from these little episodes more often than I’d like to admit. Everything hurts. The mental anguish is unbearable. I’m unable to put anything into perspective or engage in rational thought.
My experience has been that with my medication these wonderfully attractive episodes are not a daily or even weekly event. I am more able to tell myself that I’ve ventured into Crazyville and I’ll find my way home soon enough. Most importantly, I usually don’t feel any burning hatred towards myself for having a defective brain or the need to harm myself as a result.
(On a side note, have you noticed how when you go to your doctor or therapist and they ask if you’ve been feeling suicidal and you say “yes”, their next question is “do you have a plan?”? What kind of question is that? No dude, I was just sitting around watching Saved By the Bell reruns and it suddenly occurred to me to end it all but then Slater’s ex showed up in town and Jessie was all pissed and I forgot all about decorating the wall with my frontal lobe. No biggie.)
I am the self-pity queen. That’s not to say that when I have a day like yesterday my feelings aren’t valid or important, it’s just that when I start feeling some clarity it’s vitally important that I put things in perspective. Is my house lacking baseboards because God hates me and I’m doomed to a lifetime of misery and suffering or have I neglected to call the baseboards guy because I enjoy putting things off until the last conceivable minute? Did my grandmother die just to break my heart or because she was 82 years old, sick, and ready to go? Are my feet swollen because I’m the most unsexy human alive or because I’ve been blessed enough to to have a little baby growing inside me?
My life is amazing even when my brain is unable to process this fact and it’s so important for me to assume a position of humility as soon as I’m able. Perspective. It rules.
August 24th, 2007 at 6:25 pm
I have been asked that do-you-have-a-plan question on at least four separate occasions. I feel the same way you do about it.
August 25th, 2007 at 1:09 am
This is why i hate therapy. It’s like reading a textbook. No personal side to it.
When i was asked recently i just pre-empted and said i had a whole plays worth of plans.
August 25th, 2007 at 11:34 am
yes i have a plan and it involves you, doctor. today. right now.
then, HA HA i’m just jerking your chain!!! isn’t that funny doctor? :)
August 25th, 2007 at 5:07 pm
You guys are crackin’ me up. :D I’m glad we can laugh about it and boy does it feel good to hear that you have had the same experience.
August 28th, 2007 at 6:34 pm
If it makes you feel any happier, I’d rather be asked if I had a plan than to be asked, “What color is the discharge?”
P.S. Glad to hear you’re on the web again AND to hear that your carrying a wee-one.
August 28th, 2007 at 9:26 pm
Amanda-mama-to-be, you’re still a pissa. So happy you are sharing your thoughts with the world again! Love ya hunny,
Kel
August 28th, 2007 at 11:25 pm
I would really like to know how to ask the “Do you have a plan” question in a way that isn’t annoying. I am a therapist and people that I speak with often say they don’t have a plan…they just want to die. Others have thought about and know exactly how they plan on ending their life. It is an important way of marking how serious someone is. I have an ethical and legal responsibility to access suicide risk and I would like to do it in the most helpful way possible.
August 29th, 2007 at 11:53 am
perspective is definitely important and yet I find I need to be careful so that I don’t end up berating myself- what is wrong with you? why can’t you just be happy? you have a great life. so many others have it worse. aye.
I got really scared myself this year when I *did* have a plan. I’ve definitely felt I wanted to die and end the awful feelings, but had never said aha! this is what I’ll do before.
August 29th, 2007 at 6:12 pm
J- I know and I hate to sound so harsh towards doctors and therapists. You guys do infinite amounts of good for we the sickypoos.
My experience has been that if I’m being honest, there is always a “plan”. That doesn’t mean that I’m thinking Thursday, noon, with a pistol, in the vestibule, it means that I know I’m perfectly capable of putting an end to myself if I’m not vigilant- if I don’t treat my illness. When a doctor asks me that question, I feel like they don’t understand where I am mentally or how my illness effects me. For me, NOT feeling suicidal is the exception.
I think if it ever came to that I would not put much thought into it. I would just wander into a room and do it. The trick is to treat the reason that I feel suicidal before I get to that point.
I think that maybe if doctors looked at it a bit differently, that feeling suicidal is sometimes a part of having major depression just like coughing is sometimes part of having a cold, it would be helpful to me the patient. And for me, to feel suicidal is to be capable of committing the act- to relieve what is an unbearable amount of mental anguish.
In other words, to have major depression is to be at risk for committing suicide. For me it’s just part of the deal.
I don’t know if that makes sense, but thank you for asking. It means a lot.
August 29th, 2007 at 7:57 pm
Amanda,
Thank you for your response. I really appreciate it. My intention is to be be the best therapist I can be. I am still in the intern process of it all and getting to answer to this question is amazing.
I feel the need to say how much I dread the us vs. them feeling of therapy. Therapist are experiencing the human realm just as any other person. They, like all folks, have issues with their mental health…hopefully they have the tools to deal with theirs as they are of service to others. Sadly, it does not seem like a priority to many schools to teach up and coming counselors how to work their own processes. To me, and for me, healing is a work of collaborative art.