(no subject)
Alright. I've been talking so little here- going to post a few things, at least.
I wrote this following email and posted it various places online last night.
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This is excerpted from an email I wrote tonight to my therapist. The background info, that I haven't been mentioning, is that I was feeling magorly suicidal on Tuesday evening (I don't remember this very well- I know I was at a cafe writing and that whoever was out was both impulsively and *actively* suicidal, and wrote a five page letter to Lynette (therapist) about this, and mentioned seriously thinking of doing something when we got home... Got knocked out of that by a phone call from someone, but... I've been "fine" since then (well, obviously not, but...). Don't remember hardly any of my therapy session on Wednesday, though. I know she said that the only reason she wasn't hospitalizing us was that *she* agreed that another traumatic hospitalization would be so detrimental at this point...
"Dear Dr.D,
I'm having a really, really rough night. Earlier at PHP I think I called you- really wasn't feeling seen or heard by Barbara- not so much, a little bit from Dr.Fromont. I understood his point. Sometimes i wonder lately if I've been suicidal so much people are just used to it and don't pay it any mind. that's always been a fear of mine- that and that people will think i'm being manipulative or wanting attention (part of why i get really triggered by being called borderline- besides, i'm NOT, right?)
I was *really* suicidal after PHP- I'll type out what I wrote (er "I"?) while waiting for the bus and stuff.
"I feel like just- giving into the suicidality. Of letting myself just go and see how far I fall before I drown.
Sunday. That's the new deadline.
They say "commiting" suicide. As if it were something you- married, almost. A marriage between despair and death- whose child is not a beginning but an ending. I want to say "I'm sorry"- but for *what*? I'm *not* sorry for my life- or I've tried not to be. Sorry it's ending this way, perhaps. Sorry that despite what everyone has said, I'm *not* stron enough to do this. Not and *want* to, at least.
I'm sorry for all the things I'm not going to see or do. The people who will miss me, and the people I won't get to know.
I regret- I regret this. I regret that I've come to this place where I see no other options I can stand. I regret- and wonder what I could've done differently. I regret all the people I've hurt-"
Er, THEN Colleen, a friend from Herrick came by at the coffeeshop we'd arranged to meet her at. I'd really thought that interaction was going to be longer then it was- I was left feeling really, really lonely. The suicidal stuff had "switched off" when she showed up, but I was still VERY much aware it was there. So I started writing you a letter.
Then this guy sitting next to me asked me something about being a student, and I told him I was a psychology student and we go into this really weird, long conversation. Parts of it were really neat, like how he lived in Alaska and was a fisherman there (really dangerous) and about psychology and his interest in it, and how he knew Alan Whatts and he'd met Joseph Campbell, etc. Parts of it were- I mean, he was *very* well-educated and nice and *not* at all a bad person- but he was reading something about Gnosticism and talked about that and the idea of "Knowledge" as opposed to "Belief" and somehow we got to talking about the biological/neuro-transmitter model and how much that lacked and *that* led into talking about schizophrenia and some recent studies I'd read disproving it as purely biological... And then he told me about the first schizoprhenic person he'd known at nineteen (he's seventy-one- obviously had a very interesting life) but *that* got into- schizoprhenics as hearing demons and angels and connection with other planes of reality and um, yeah, THAT part and some of the other bits were really triggering, and I tried to steer things away... On the other hand, it was completely distracting from my own stuff.
I'm going to type out what we wrote about *that* at the bus stop after talking to him.
"It's so strange how things can *change* like that. At least for the moment. Into- something *wholely* other then what things are *now*.
I know that conversation stirred up a *lot* of stuff on a *lot* of levels. No, I *don't* think he's involved in RA. I- see *similarity* but- didn't get that sense from him. Not the- malevolence, even under the skin. Although- what? I get lost.
The world-view of angels and demons is very much the same.
Of "secret knowledge", Knowledge whose very *knowing* changes the fabric of *being*. Of *knowledge* in *experience* of God, as opposed to *belief* in God.
The whole idea of schizophrenics as part of antoher reality, beset by the unseen, caught between battles of angels and demons. (How would *they* react to that, tomorrow, if I came and said that? Would *any* of them understand? What is is to KNow instead of *believe*- and the power of that Knowledge to shatter? The Illuminated One- the One who is Illuminated and *transformed* by Knowledge.)
This is straying into territory both wonderous and terrible. One who sees the Light of Heaven must also experience the torment of Hell."
I'm going to stop this now so I can send it and say I *need* you to write me back- if you haven't by tomorrow when I'm at PHP I'll find out if you can call at the main group room or something and ask you to call me there- I just- I *need* to talk to you about the suicidal stuff.
OH! I forgot! When I got *home* just now, I was laying exhausted trying to relax for a minute and I couldn't stop *thinking* about- overdosing on all my pills. I mean, I just- I was thinking of weither anyone would find me in time, things like that. And I could *feel* the urge to do that. Umm, this isn't good, is it? Fuck. Please, I *really* need you to write or call me back. Thank you.
Daniel and others"
I'd really appreciate some feedback of some nature for this. She DID email me back, said she'd call Barbara and she was concerned, would tell Barbara (Head partial hospitalization person (PHP)) about how she thinks *if* it's going to not be in the awful psychotic unit we SHOULD be hospitalized right now, etc. *sigh* So we'll see tomorrow.
Daniel
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"Tomorrow" being today, no, I'm not in the hospital. I'll try and write about that tomorrow, though- the sleep meds I took just started to kick in.
I wrote this following email and posted it various places online last night.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is excerpted from an email I wrote tonight to my therapist. The background info, that I haven't been mentioning, is that I was feeling magorly suicidal on Tuesday evening (I don't remember this very well- I know I was at a cafe writing and that whoever was out was both impulsively and *actively* suicidal, and wrote a five page letter to Lynette (therapist) about this, and mentioned seriously thinking of doing something when we got home... Got knocked out of that by a phone call from someone, but... I've been "fine" since then (well, obviously not, but...). Don't remember hardly any of my therapy session on Wednesday, though. I know she said that the only reason she wasn't hospitalizing us was that *she* agreed that another traumatic hospitalization would be so detrimental at this point...
"Dear Dr.D,
I'm having a really, really rough night. Earlier at PHP I think I called you- really wasn't feeling seen or heard by Barbara- not so much, a little bit from Dr.Fromont. I understood his point. Sometimes i wonder lately if I've been suicidal so much people are just used to it and don't pay it any mind. that's always been a fear of mine- that and that people will think i'm being manipulative or wanting attention (part of why i get really triggered by being called borderline- besides, i'm NOT, right?)
I was *really* suicidal after PHP- I'll type out what I wrote (er "I"?) while waiting for the bus and stuff.
"I feel like just- giving into the suicidality. Of letting myself just go and see how far I fall before I drown.
Sunday. That's the new deadline.
They say "commiting" suicide. As if it were something you- married, almost. A marriage between despair and death- whose child is not a beginning but an ending. I want to say "I'm sorry"- but for *what*? I'm *not* sorry for my life- or I've tried not to be. Sorry it's ending this way, perhaps. Sorry that despite what everyone has said, I'm *not* stron enough to do this. Not and *want* to, at least.
I'm sorry for all the things I'm not going to see or do. The people who will miss me, and the people I won't get to know.
I regret- I regret this. I regret that I've come to this place where I see no other options I can stand. I regret- and wonder what I could've done differently. I regret all the people I've hurt-"
Er, THEN Colleen, a friend from Herrick came by at the coffeeshop we'd arranged to meet her at. I'd really thought that interaction was going to be longer then it was- I was left feeling really, really lonely. The suicidal stuff had "switched off" when she showed up, but I was still VERY much aware it was there. So I started writing you a letter.
Then this guy sitting next to me asked me something about being a student, and I told him I was a psychology student and we go into this really weird, long conversation. Parts of it were really neat, like how he lived in Alaska and was a fisherman there (really dangerous) and about psychology and his interest in it, and how he knew Alan Whatts and he'd met Joseph Campbell, etc. Parts of it were- I mean, he was *very* well-educated and nice and *not* at all a bad person- but he was reading something about Gnosticism and talked about that and the idea of "Knowledge" as opposed to "Belief" and somehow we got to talking about the biological/neuro-transmitter model and how much that lacked and *that* led into talking about schizophrenia and some recent studies I'd read disproving it as purely biological... And then he told me about the first schizoprhenic person he'd known at nineteen (he's seventy-one- obviously had a very interesting life) but *that* got into- schizoprhenics as hearing demons and angels and connection with other planes of reality and um, yeah, THAT part and some of the other bits were really triggering, and I tried to steer things away... On the other hand, it was completely distracting from my own stuff.
I'm going to type out what we wrote about *that* at the bus stop after talking to him.
"It's so strange how things can *change* like that. At least for the moment. Into- something *wholely* other then what things are *now*.
I know that conversation stirred up a *lot* of stuff on a *lot* of levels. No, I *don't* think he's involved in RA. I- see *similarity* but- didn't get that sense from him. Not the- malevolence, even under the skin. Although- what? I get lost.
The world-view of angels and demons is very much the same.
Of "secret knowledge", Knowledge whose very *knowing* changes the fabric of *being*. Of *knowledge* in *experience* of God, as opposed to *belief* in God.
The whole idea of schizophrenics as part of antoher reality, beset by the unseen, caught between battles of angels and demons. (How would *they* react to that, tomorrow, if I came and said that? Would *any* of them understand? What is is to KNow instead of *believe*- and the power of that Knowledge to shatter? The Illuminated One- the One who is Illuminated and *transformed* by Knowledge.)
This is straying into territory both wonderous and terrible. One who sees the Light of Heaven must also experience the torment of Hell."
I'm going to stop this now so I can send it and say I *need* you to write me back- if you haven't by tomorrow when I'm at PHP I'll find out if you can call at the main group room or something and ask you to call me there- I just- I *need* to talk to you about the suicidal stuff.
OH! I forgot! When I got *home* just now, I was laying exhausted trying to relax for a minute and I couldn't stop *thinking* about- overdosing on all my pills. I mean, I just- I was thinking of weither anyone would find me in time, things like that. And I could *feel* the urge to do that. Umm, this isn't good, is it? Fuck. Please, I *really* need you to write or call me back. Thank you.
Daniel and others"
I'd really appreciate some feedback of some nature for this. She DID email me back, said she'd call Barbara and she was concerned, would tell Barbara (Head partial hospitalization person (PHP)) about how she thinks *if* it's going to not be in the awful psychotic unit we SHOULD be hospitalized right now, etc. *sigh* So we'll see tomorrow.
Daniel
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"Tomorrow" being today, no, I'm not in the hospital. I'll try and write about that tomorrow, though- the sleep meds I took just started to kick in.