Category Archives: Coping Skills

The New Tattoo Is a Sign

I’ve got a lot on my mind – coming out, new committee work, suicidal thoughts and feelings, a new love interest maybe, a new tattoo and that it means I’m in control of my treatment and my body and who I tell what to, filling out end-of-life paperwork. All in all I’m overwhelmed with me, and a bit hypomanic from the mucinex, and together these things are causing me distress. And anxiety. Lots of anxiety. Just doing the paperwork reminded me that doing such things are a symptom of thinking death is near. And of course I’m having such intense and frequent thoughts of suicide, but in a more abstract way, not a concrete plan, thank goodness.

I just need a place I can be fully me, and be cared for, and share my piled-on thoughts with. Right now that place is church. I’m grateful for the people there that accept and care for me, as well as for the opportunity to do something (social justice team) that speaks to my heart’s burden to make the world a better place. It’s a process of becoming, isn’t it? Becoming a stable person with bipolar, becoming someone who loves in different ways, becoming a leader again. I’m generally someone who pays attention to process, and lets it unfold. But when it comes to me, I’m impatient!

That said, I’m hopeful about entering the process of EMDR to end the suicidal thoughts, and I know it could take a while. I’m hopeful about the person I’ll be and the opportunities I can take when I’m no longer regularly hospitalized and don’t have the terrible thoughts. So I suppose I am paying attention to process because I’m looking to the future and I Will allow it to unfold. And there Will Be a Future. I’m going to keep fighting.

Mixed Mood Blues

I’m relying heavily on coping skills such as distraction or grounding myself. But I really want to die. If I can hang on, the mixed mood will pass, which will make the suicidal images less intense (they never go away completely). My psychiatrist increased my antipsychotic med drastically a few days ago. And my therapist is checking in on me daily. There’s a bed waiting for me at the hospital if I need it, but everyone is rooting for me to hang on and cope through this bad spell at home.

Except I really, really want to hurt myself. I don’t have a good plan, and my access to any means has been extremely limited. But the various ways keep pounding through my brain relentlessly. I want something to work – a way out of life or a way to make the feelings and images stop. I’m still just trying to hold on, grasping on the ledge with my fingernails, despite coping skills.

My thoughts are singular. My access to any means is gone. I don’t want to live this way. I don’t want to live at all. And people telling me they care isn’t enough of a reason to stay on this earth. I believe my brain’s lies. I’m not in my right mind. I’m not ok.

On Not Failing

So I’m still struggling with suicidal ideation. I found a recent medical journal article that described what I go through EXactly. “Intrusive Suicidal Imagery” that is unbidden and unwanted, yet can lead to suicidal behaviors just to try to stop the imagery that by being so intrusive leads to hopelessness and then desire to kill oneself. It’s an endless, eternal circle and cycle that I live with. Here’s the article: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5551152/ The first third describes what I go through Every.Stinking.Day. The rest is about possible treatment…

What??? There might be treatment for chronic suicidal thoughts? Yes, EMDR as described in the above article has been successfully used for PTSD and trauma for about 30 years. In the last 10 it has been used successfully with other mental disorders and now finally with bipolar and with chronic suicidal ideation. Something to think about, research more, and see if insurance will cover.

This idea of possible EMDR is one of the really helpful things my therapist told me about last visit. The other is that by even trying just a little bit, just one teensy step, I Am Not Failing. Part of me thinks I fail every time I DON’T go through with suicide – too chicken maybe, since the suffering is so ridiculously unpleasant that I ought to have ended it already, having already gone through every.treatment.possible. Part of me believes doing so many coping skills all the time is failure because surely one of them ought to have worked by now – same with medications and other treatments. I must be doing something wrong.

I complained to my therapist that my brain is trying to kill me. He thinks it is just afraid, and again, that I am not failing. I continue to try: to live, to combat the thoughts or at least try to detach from them. And that struggle has made me who I am. And he thinks that’s a pretty awesome person. Meanwhile, I’m still over here planning my death, but I AM still trying to live. Aren’t there better ways to make someone an awesome person? Asking for a friend…

My Therapist Told Me To Write This

I’m having a hard time telling anyone close to me about my suicidal thoughts. So my therapist told me to write about my feelings. I’m not talking about them because I don’t want them to be real, maybe? I don’t want the ECT to be wearing off? and I don’t want anyone to encourage me to do ECT again? All of that probably.

But I have to remind myself that I’m in a new place with my bipolar and its treatment. I’m in control of my treatment. And if I want to use only medications, then that’s my choice. And if my psychiatrist can’t find medication to help the OCD suicidal thoughts, then I’m back to discussing how to manage them with my therapist and using coping skills.

So here I am using the writing coping skill as instructed by my therapist. I’ve got frequent images of one plan to kill myself in my head, and negative self-talk swirling through my mind. People would be better off without me, type of stuff. I can tell myself my brain is lying, but I still believe the negative self-talk for a while. And when the self-talk and images coincide – as they do regularly – I find myself rehearsing the plan, or starting and then stopping. I really don’t want to die, do I? It’s hard to tell. With all the crap in my head.

I haven’t been able to tell my family, or to contact the Crisis Text Line (741741) or the Natl Hotline (1800-273-TALK). Obviously I contacted my therapist, who told me to write at the minimum. I did tell my church and my online community of friends. After suffering in silence for two days. I’m tired of suffering and I’m scared to tell.

Shootings, Suicide, and Spirituality

I am sick to death of shootings that kill or injure ANY number of people, not just the ones that “score” enough deaths to be considered “mass” shootings. My heart hurts. My soul is heavy. My body itches to DO something to ease the enormous pain my country is in.

This is not a new feeling. I can remember the ache as far back as childhood when gang violence in the cities was more likely to make the news than a lone wolf, cis- and young white male with a high-capacity gun was.

Yes, I said it. The problem is not just guns, though background checks and limiting them will make a huge difference. The problem is not just access to mental health treatment, though some of the shooters may not have been in treatment for their mental illness. No. I believe the current problem lies in cis- white, patriarchal supremacy that is replete through American culture.

Unfriend me if you wish. I just needed to say it. Because ever since we had a week full of violence in California, Texas, Ohio, and Illinois, just to name the ones I happened to hear about, I’ve been quiet and hurting, nauseous and aching for the pain, loss, and fear. I’ve also felt more suicidal, more often than usual, with the accompanying feelings of emptiness and lack of purpose.

Then a notorious, alleged criminal is said to have died by suicide (many think not, icymi). Just having suicide in the news is a trigger for suicidality for me. And now he won’t face the justice likely to have come down on him for atrocious acts. Many hearts scream for justice, and I hear them. And death seems a real possibility again.

I talked with my therapist about the suicidal thoughts and was reminded of coping skills that I can use before the feeling gets intense. Going to church is one of those coping skills, something I do to be social, to be encouraged toward ethical action, and to be inspired by the good that IS in the world. Then today, at the beginning of a service to recognize the grief and pain and urge to act because of the shootings, the suicidal feeling came back again. In my last community, I would very often drive to church with hope, only to leave suicidal. That hasn’t happened much in my current community, but here it is, happening again.

I’m using coping skills – such as blogging about my feelings – to ride out the suicidal feelings. But my heart still aches, and my stomach is nauseous.

Decisions, Decisions

I am living with anxiety: I have coping skills. I have reminders from my therapist. I have a benzo I take 3x/day.

My anxiety was at a 10 on Thursday morning as I met with the doc for the second opinion on ECT, and then with the regular team I see before ECT to talk about the anesthesia trauma and the unbearable anxiety I’m living with. Man, I used every possible coping skill that morning, and I still blubbered all over the place as I talked about what I’m living with.

Ultimately that morning, no final decision was made about ECT. I Did Not Have a treatment that morning. I did not schedule a treatment. I only agreed to talk about the future of ECT and me at a later time when I was calmer an in my own home, not staring at the ECT trappings that reminded me of bad experiences. So Monday I will talk with a person who understands where I am coming from – knowing both the benefits I’ve experienced and the trauma and anxiety I cannot live with.

I was told that there is a med I can take that would drastically reduce my anxiety the day of ECT. And there is something (not sure what – find out Monday) that can be done to prevent anesthesia problems.

I am in the driver’s seat, and I am left with a horrible decision: Do I trust the ECT team with the things they can now do to earn my trust back for smooth ECT experiences, even though they were not offered when I had talked about my experience and great anxiety BEFORE? OR do I stop all ECT, and possibly never do it again, choosing instead to play medication roulette again should my mood waver again or I get suicidal again?

Decisions, decisions. I will get more info Monday.

How Best to Take Care of Myself

Anxiety has been my constant companion at an elevated state since the f*** up at ECT nearly 10 days ago. If my anxiety was at a 9 last week at therapy, it was an 8 this week. Ooooo – totally getting better. Not. I cried through most of the session again this week. And off and on the rest of the day afterward.

This is what I am holding on to. My therapist reminded me that it is my decision whether or not to have ECT. I have been through trauma related to the anesthesia of ECT that I keep reliving every.single.day multiple.times.a.day. Leading to panic and anxiety going up and down all the time. I no longer feel safe in my home or alone. The anxiety is waiting to get me, sometimes as an anxiety attack or as people or things waiting to jump out at me. While ECT has helped my mood like no drug ever did – I found baseline for me! – it has now ruined my life, in my mind. I might be exaggerating, yet I’m miserable now.

Before my next treatment, I have a second opinion appointment which is designed to see if ECT is helping and still beneficial for me. I promised my therapist and mom, I will tell him everything, from how much better my mood is, to the plan to do maintenance treatments so the results last longer, and now how the anxiety from the anesthesia gaff has traumatized me and the anxiety is nearly unbearable.

While I want the decision from me and the second opinion dr to be to stop ECT, I will keep an open mind. Maybe I need to stop for now so the anxiety can subside. Maybe I would need to start up again in the future. Maybe I will ever do it again, and will play pharmaceutical roulette with my psychiatrist if I need it. I just know I Need To Take Care Of Myself. And I’m holding on to ECT being OVER.