Self-Medicating... Self-Abuse
So after all that happiness and light....
Still off all medications. Not quite stable. But I am still committed to giving this lithium free life a shot. I still see this as a temporary thing. I don't think I can last like this. I don't think I can fake it forever. At some point I have to commit to living or dying. I am however, on the fence right now.
I think of suicide like dating. When one first starts to "date" as a teen, one starts with holding hands and other fairly innocuous stuff. It may take months or even years to progress to that stage with the first boyfriend (or girlfriend). Then one gets a new Significant Other and one progresses down the physical relationship path much faster. One gets to 2nd and 3rd base much faster. Where exactly are 2nd and 3rd or 1st for that matter? I am pretty sure I have a handle on a home run, but the rest of the baseball analogies escape me. By the time we reach late adolescence and young adulthood, it is not unusual to get heavily physical very quickly. Each relationship moves us down the path much faster than the one before. We start at a more advanced stage and more readily move forward.
That is my relationship with suicide. At first I just flirted. Coy looks and dark thoughts preoccupied my days and nights, but that was about all. Then more serious, talking with others and planning were hallmarks of my path. Now after a couple of "failed" attempts, I feel close, naked in bed, with death. I may not actively want to die on Monday, but I know that I can be carnally attached by Wednesday. From what I understand, most normal people don't feel like this. Most of them don't even want to die most of the time. Must be something...... wanting to live. Wow.
So I have been "self-medicating". Although, lets be honest. I have been drinking and using "performance enhancing" herbs. Self-medicating? No. Simple escape. I recognize that, but it does not change my habits. No, my self-medicating involves a razor blade or scalpel dragged across my skin. The pain is a better anti-depressant than anything else I have ever tried. But of concern to me is the depth I have been cutting and wanting to cut recently. Before a simple line of blood was enough, now I need to have a crimson wash down my arm. Maybe it is simply another step in my dance with suicide. Maybe I am that much closer to being ready. I hope so.
Anyway, a link for those who believe that substance abuse is bad for the mentally ill. To add to the hundreds of sources that say it is bad, I have one that says it may not be so bad. What a ringing endorsement.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/4606475.stm
When our own words fail us we turn to the poets, and so as Langston Hughes wrote in a poem entitled Advice
Folks I am telling you
birthing is hard
and dying is mean
so get yourself
a little loving
in between.
Indeed...
Still off all medications. Not quite stable. But I am still committed to giving this lithium free life a shot. I still see this as a temporary thing. I don't think I can last like this. I don't think I can fake it forever. At some point I have to commit to living or dying. I am however, on the fence right now.
I think of suicide like dating. When one first starts to "date" as a teen, one starts with holding hands and other fairly innocuous stuff. It may take months or even years to progress to that stage with the first boyfriend (or girlfriend). Then one gets a new Significant Other and one progresses down the physical relationship path much faster. One gets to 2nd and 3rd base much faster. Where exactly are 2nd and 3rd or 1st for that matter? I am pretty sure I have a handle on a home run, but the rest of the baseball analogies escape me. By the time we reach late adolescence and young adulthood, it is not unusual to get heavily physical very quickly. Each relationship moves us down the path much faster than the one before. We start at a more advanced stage and more readily move forward.
That is my relationship with suicide. At first I just flirted. Coy looks and dark thoughts preoccupied my days and nights, but that was about all. Then more serious, talking with others and planning were hallmarks of my path. Now after a couple of "failed" attempts, I feel close, naked in bed, with death. I may not actively want to die on Monday, but I know that I can be carnally attached by Wednesday. From what I understand, most normal people don't feel like this. Most of them don't even want to die most of the time. Must be something...... wanting to live. Wow.
So I have been "self-medicating". Although, lets be honest. I have been drinking and using "performance enhancing" herbs. Self-medicating? No. Simple escape. I recognize that, but it does not change my habits. No, my self-medicating involves a razor blade or scalpel dragged across my skin. The pain is a better anti-depressant than anything else I have ever tried. But of concern to me is the depth I have been cutting and wanting to cut recently. Before a simple line of blood was enough, now I need to have a crimson wash down my arm. Maybe it is simply another step in my dance with suicide. Maybe I am that much closer to being ready. I hope so.
Anyway, a link for those who believe that substance abuse is bad for the mentally ill. To add to the hundreds of sources that say it is bad, I have one that says it may not be so bad. What a ringing endorsement.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/4606475.stm
When our own words fail us we turn to the poets, and so as Langston Hughes wrote in a poem entitled Advice
Folks I am telling you
birthing is hard
and dying is mean
so get yourself
a little loving
in between.
Indeed...
posted by Stoic Stranger at 4:37 PM
1 Comments:
Hester, indeed I did tell my pdoc. He glossed right over that, never said a word in fact. Hhhhmmm, at $250.00 an hour, you would think he might have some insight.
Post a Comment
<< Home