Sad, more sad, and more sad*

*I will be marking posts dealing with suicide with an asterick if I think that it might upset someone.  I have avoided being overly specific as much as I could but I need to think through it all and this is where I do that kind of writing.  In comprise I'll try to keep the posts marked so you can choose.


Dr. Mind completely wore me out.  I think it was really two-sided but it was another very intense, very long session.  By the time we'd made it through my nightmare and the increased suicidal thoughts as I approach tomorrow and the dreaded ending of all signs I have a career and gotten finally into some of what I am avoiding dealing with and what is hidden from him because I'm hiding it from myself I had actually reached the point of wiping my nose on my sleeve because I was too overwhelmed to get a tissue.

It seems like if we start getting too close to this hurting and where I feel at risk of having to handle too much then the suicidal stuff gets worse.  Because I've had several times that I've found myself feeling unsafe when close to medication aisles in stores I had to promise to not go to any stores today. I also had to promise to call and leave him messages twice tomorrow, once that I am ok in the morning and then later that I am ok after it is done.  I also had to look at him and tell him I'm not planning to hurt myself.  It's possible that I never conveyed how much I was thinking of this stuff several weeks ago.  I did do better for a few days last week.  But after we talked about how I think about this several times per day I got the impression that I hadn't previously shared this.  I sobbed something about not wanting to feel worse because I don't want to go back to the hospital.  I suspect I've shared this sentiment before since he kind of sighed and said nobody said I had to, but I know that any more suicidal and I'm going back and I suspect that if I'd said what I did today on any other day that did not have tomorrow's painful experience looming I would be well, wearing pants (just finished exercising, didn't grab clean ones yet) right now. I mean I'm not allowed to go into stores.   My house is pretty safe place and I think that's about the only reason I am here. I think he knows I need to get this over with, but is also concerned.  Calling him should be loads of fun since I have to call the secretary and probably actually talk to her, twice; he doesn't have voicemail or anything private so I have to find a way to say "hey! I didn't hurt myself.  yay!" in more appropriate langauge.  Twice.  Not that the secretaries don't know that I am in a bad place and very sick right now but still.

This is so ridiculously hard.  I know I need to talk about it and deal with it and yet I can't.  It's easy to know why; if I get upset the suicidal thoughts increase.  If they increase I feel worse.  When I have the thoughts I am handling them but I am terrified that at some point I won't be able to.  I understand that I need to deal with the anger and other feelings, but the only one that feels semi-safe is sad.

(Later) I obligingly spent some time thinking about things other than sad.  I actually did this for an hour; I turned off the lights, curled up under a warm blanket because it is cold here, and what I discovered and must remember to tell him is that I can play complete the sentence (I feel angry about ___, etc) but I really truly do not feel those things right now.  There are some smaller things I feel frustrated about, but mostly I feel sad and nothing but. I feel more frustration and anger about things I bought before I ever considered that I might go a few years without income and that my income would always be limited.  This is not big anger. I understand that those things are coming, are probably there somewhere but I do not have the ability to even think about it right now.  The sadness is far too overwhelming still and the other things are scary.  The thing keeping me safe besides baby-proofing right now is that every harmful thought it impulsive. Because there is one thought, consuming large quantities of tylenol that is more prevelant that one concerns Dr. Mind.  But that is easy enough that if I wanted to I could certainly access that and I haven't tried.    Somewhere though someone is going to say that "I haven't tried" only stretches so far.

In a way the having to call in frustrates me more than almost anything else.  He knows only part of this story but years ago I say a psychiatrist once.  I don't even remember her name now, unfortunately as she'd be a nice medical record to add to the disability list.  When I saw her I was really not on meds yet and I was pretty agitated.  Which got much worse when she insisted I be admitted to the hospital and that if I did not agree she was going to put me on a psych hold.  I kind of yelled at her.  However I managed to get the right terms out to let her know that I would fight and probably would win on any hold because I knew what to say to show I didn't meet the criteria.  She left it as she'd give me a week to get things together but the next week I was to call her and would need to be hospitalized then.  By the next week I'd put all kinds of stuff in place to be hospitalized and she never mentioned it.  Nor did she remain my doctor.  But that call-in thing reminds me of that time years ago in a totally different situation.

I am so tired.  It is impressive how exhausted I get crying through every session.   But it's not just tears, it is that each one is hard work and often hard thinking later.  And this time, dreading tomorrow.

I wish I could just make tomorrow be over with and forgotten.  Not likely though.