I just don’t get it. All the pamphlets and books say that if someone says they’re suicidal, you should always take it seriously. All the information about the medications I’ve been on recently says they can cause an increased risk of suicidality. I have been diagnosed with a condition that has a suicide rate that is more than 20 times that of the general population. Previous medications have triggered mixed states in me. And “Studies have shown that suicidal thoughts are greatly increased in people in the midst of a mixed state, and the presence of manic activation means a greater risk that these people will have the energy and motivation to carry out their suicidal plans.”
And then I go on a new medication. And I start to have anxiety, agitation, panic attacks, irritability, impulsivity, (all known to be possible effects of the medication) on top of the crippling depression I have been battling for months. I feel like I’m completely losing my grip on reality, losing my grip on myself. Like some kind of demon has taken over, like I have no mind or body, all that is left is pain and screaming. During the moments when I manage to have thoughts, I see the same images over and over, 101 ways to kill myself. After a while it’s just the one image, the best way, fast and violent.
There are slight lulls, when I still feel extremely distressed, but there are shreds of rationality. During one of these moments, I manage to call the mental health crisis team. I tell them what’s going on. I tell them I feel like I’m losing my grip, I’m scared I’m going to kill myself during one of these blinding attacks. Worse than that, I’m scared I might hurt someone else.
And they say there’s no crisis beds available. They say “why don’t you have a cup of tea and go to bed.”
I just. Don’t. Get it. Hundreds of people commit suicide every year in this country. They are not just numbers, they are real people, who die, real deaths. I don’t want to be one of them. I want to get better, I want to stick around because part of me hopes that I will get better. But there have been times, recently, and I think it’s been triggered by the meds, when the distress has been completely unbearable. I’ve banged my head so hard I’ve given myself bumps and a black eye. I’ve smashed things I really wish I hadn’t smashed. I’m really lucky, my parents, and people from St Andrew’s have been there for me, and they’ve looked after me, and I have survived. But it could so easily have been different. I could have become one of those nasty annual statistics. And it could be different next time. That scares me so much.
I don’t get it. Why do they tell people to take it seriously, why do they go on about suicide prevention strategies, why have the crisis lines, why bother?! If all they can offer is a cup of tea?
Your last post (make a wish) made my day. I wasnt going to comment about it, just smile and pull myself out of the mildly crappy day I was having at the time. But I remember that for the rest of that day I was focused on seeing the world from another perspective.
Considering your current post I would like to say that on that day and since yourve made an impact.
I have no other support to give you except that Im glad your around.
Posted by: Vincent at March 28, 2007 04:37 PMThats absolutely shocking how you were treated, I really didn't think our health service was quite that bad. Grrr and arghh..
You're a cool as person & please do keep on rockin eh :)
Posted by: Reb at March 28, 2007 06:56 PMI'm sorry I can't do anything more meaningful than say it really sucks that you're not getting the support you need.
I recently went to see a play about a girl who attempted suicide. It was a great play except for the factual inaccuracy where the playwright assumes that there is a mental health system, ie, if you attempt suicide (or tell someone you might) there is then some kind of support (clinic if you want it, concerned doctors etc). This is certainly a complete myth in NZ, they say 'here's the crisis number, off you go home'. My friend who saw the play with me was very disbelieving of my comment.
I wonder if we get treated this way because we're eloquent. Because we can clearly explain what's wrong with us and what we think we need, it somehow makes them feel that we can't truly need it.
On medication, I wonder if you've tried Dopress. It was a God-send for me. But everyone's different.
Posted by: suraya at March 29, 2007 09:13 AMSome of the people on the crisis line are pretty decent. Some of them act like you’re wasting their time, or treat you like a two-year-old who is being “naughty”. But some of them are good and they listen, but there’s just nothing they can do, if the handful of crisis beds are full, they don’t have anything else to offer.
This was not an isolated incident, by the way. I've had several bad experiences on new meds in the past few months, and various crises, and once I was able to go to respite, which helped, because there were people around 24 hours a day, and they could make sure I didn't do anything drastic. But about ten times there have been variations on the above. Sometimes they suggest a hot shower instead of a cup of tea.
Suraya, I think you're right. Being eloquent definitely does not help.
Then again, I think I've had times of not being very eloquent lately, and that doesn't help much either, because then you can't explain what you need.