Alive With The Sound Of Suicidality

On days like this
In times like these
I feel an animal deep inside
Heel to haunch on bended knees
Living on if and if I tried
Somebody send me
Please
Dream wars and a ticket to seem
Giving out and in
Selling the don't belong
Well what do you say
Do you have a word for giving away
Got a song for me
(Sing)
(Sing)
Hey now, hey now now, sing This Corrosion to me
Hey now, hey now now, sing This Corrosion to me
Hey now, hey now now, sing This Corrosion to me
Hey now, hey now now, sing
I got nothing to say I ain't said before
I bled all I can I won't bleed no more
-- The Sisters of Mercy

For months I have been asking for, pleading for, more help. I went way outside my comfort zone to get all the paperwork filled out and signed to get into the premier mental health facility in the region -- the process would have been drawn out if I let the normal person who advocates for me in her spare time do it so I spent many hours getting to all the doctors' offices to make sure it was done quickly. Then it took more than a week longer than expected to get in for an assessment. Shortly after my assessment I was informed there was approximately a two week wait to get in but I was on the waiting list. Two weeks later I learn it still "will be a couple weeks". If I did not know better I would look at this data of getting put off a week, then a couple weeks, then a couple more weeks -- the trendline indicates the delays are getting longer so at this rate I will never get in. And all the parties involved know I have suicidal plans!

Granted I was not guaranteed to have treatment start quickly but the material I was asked to read during my assessment stated "accepted clients can potentially begin treatment within 48 hours" and my assessor told me I was expected to begin treatment there, once accepted, within 48 hours. My poor verbal memory does not allow me to exactly quote what my assessor told me but I know damn well that not only was my acceptance indicated but also that I was to prepare myself to be a resident there within 48 hours. I had quite an anxious reaction to her saying that because, for one thing, I did not have the suggested 7 days worth of clothes to pack and while a person in a normal state of mind might be able to buy/wash clothes quickly and swiftly get everything else in life put on pause for potentially months (family/pets, work/projects, relationships/friendships, holidays/vacations, and various other appointments and expectations), my anxious state made even deciding where to buy plain t-shirts feel like an insurmountable task.

So after the assessment I went about the next day prepping family and trying to psych myself up that this was the right thing to do even though I just want to do what no one is comfortable talking about. Once I got news of the first two-week delay I wondered why I had to hurry up just to wait -- that day of stress was unnecessary and, I would think, easily avoidable.

Then there was the stress of emails and communications from my assessor -- I am the designated primary point of contact in my family but for some reason news of delays came through my therapist while details followed in emails, but not by the promised schedule. Last week I left a voicemail for my assessor on Mon then I left another Thu asking for a status update -- this is the week after I was informed via email that "we will contact you by email at least weekly ... to give you an update on your status." I received zero emails from them and no returned calls that week. And all the parties involved know I have suicidal plans and feel chronically unimportant!

A while ago I made a deal with my therapist that I would delay all suicidal planning until I had completed my TMS. Since then I have been living in this tortuous and torturous limbo of these stresses and more. During this time I had to cope with my therapist slowly telling my loved ones about my suicidal plans -- within 25 days my therapist did this for about 2.75 of the 4 people she thought it was important to contact. I think we all know that when doing the limbo, song accompaniment is necessary. Sing along if you like:

• Doe: a dear urge to disappear
• Ray: a drop of refinement added to suicidal plans
• Me: a name I hardly recognize (but broken and feeling guilty for hurting loved ones for having plans not to mention the extreme guilt brought on by thinking about the pain I would inflict on them if I carried out my plans)
• Far: a long long way to open up to mental health professionals about plans
• Sew: a needle-like precision of documenting/following their instructions
• La: a note of hollow feedback (which is often invalidating even when I do what I am supposed to -- it feels like Bizarro World when I, the one with motivation problems and myriad reasons to not be compliant, am sometimes the only one doing what one is supposed to do)
• Tea: I drink what's crammed with dread (specifically feeling even more unimportant combined with a tenacious and deep sadness that no one else seems to have), that will bring me back to Doe, oh, oh, oh...

Gallows humor aside, I have analyzed this cycle and the only way I have a shot at breaking it is to reduce the dread/sadness (life will continue to be peppered with invalidation and people who want one to feel guilty, both of which I am confident I can deal with if my sadness load is lightened). Notice I did not say reduce the net sadness -- it would take multiple lifetimes full of joy and love and satiation to balance out the sadness. In this life, right now, my sadness must be reduced. Easier said than done but the cycle resists all attempts to break it in the other steps. This more than anything else must be understood by anyone who wants to help me.

It does appear that the above cycle is paused when I am listened to and truly heard, typically by a couple of the most validating people I have ever met. And that gets me by for a day or so but it is obviously not their jobs to be my crutches for decades to come. Can't anyone agree with me that it is horrible to be stuck in this cycle and that at least on some level (I would argue a rational level), suicide is not an unexpected reaction? Folks sometimes glibly state that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem -- but it is dismissive to label something "a temporary problem" when it is a chronic, treatment-resistant pain that builds over decades and can be debilitating.